"Sherlock, episode 3x03: His Last Vow“

Starring: Benedict Cumberbatch, Martin Freeman, Rupert Graves, 
Jonathan Aris, Mark Gatiss, Una Stubbs, Louise Brealey, Amanda 
Abbington, Lars Mikkelsen and Andrew Scott 


Previously on Sherlock: Sherlock and John's happy little 
domestic arrangement was disrupted when Moriarty threatened to 
kill all three of the people Sherlock loves most in the world, 
effectively making good on his threat to "burn the heart" out 
of him. Especially when he returned to find John had moved on 
to blonder pastures. Mofftiss dropped several hints that there 
is something sinister about Mary, especially during her and 
John's crazy ass wedding that doubled as the scene of an 
attempted homicide. They also dropped several hints that she's 
pregnant, which Sherlock awkwardly announced at the reception 
before basically admitting that Mary won and slinking away like 
a jilted lover while the reception was still going on.
   Chrissy: Walking home alone. In the rain. With a cake.
   Diandra: That's not how the song goes, Chris.

We open on some sort of hearing. A woman who has probably been 
in every major BBC series - identified here as Lady Smallwood - 
asks the man we saw very briefly at the beginning of this 
season to state his name for the record. "Charles Augustus 
Magnusson" says the somewhat less creepy brother of Hannibal 
Lecter in a thick accent. She asks him to describe his 
influence over the Prime Minister. He asks for clarification: 
she means the BRITISH Prime Minister, right? I mean, there are 
other Prime Ministers in the world... Smallwood is like 'yeah, 
quit stalling. You know what I meant.' He says he's never had 
any influence over any British PM and he has no idea what she's 
talking about. She purses her lips and flips through some 
papers, noting that he's had seven meetings at Downing Street 
this past year alone. What was that about then? Magnussen says 
he was invited. Smallwood asks what the meetings were about. 
Magnussen doesn't think that is appropriate. You know, national 
security and such. 

The guy next to Smallwood goes on a rant about a private 
newspaper proprietor from a foreign country having such 
unrestricted access to the Prime Minister. Hardly seems 
appropriate. Magnussen puts on what looks like a regular pair 
of glasses and a data file on this guy pops up at the side of 
his vision. His name is John Garvie and he's an adulterer and 
alcoholic in a fair amount of debt with a "normal" porn 
preference. Conclusion: status unimportant. The words "pressure 
point" blink underneath in bright red text, followed by 
"disabled daughter (see file)". Magnussen rambles about how it 
would be rude to refuse an invitation from the Prime Minister, 
but he is so very sorry about his status as a foreigner. Since, 
you know, Brits can get pretty twitchy about that. Garvie says 
hold on, that's not what he said. Smallwood barrels on, 
redirecting to ask Magnussen if at any point anything he said 
could have had influence on government policy or the Prime 
Minister's decisions.

Magnussen turns to her and his Google Glasses identify her as 
Lady Alicia Smallwood. She was a former gymnast, has a strong 
marriage and doesn't look at porn at all or have any other 
apparent vices. He takes the glasses off to clean them while 
they're still searching for her pressure point. By the time he 
puts them back on, they have come up with "husband". He says 
no, he can't think of anything he could have said. She asks if 
he's sure and he says "I have an excellent memory" in a voice 
dripping with pure evil.

After the sun goes down, he returns to this enormous, ultra-
modern mansion somewhere and goes into that basement room we 
saw a glimpse of at the end of "The Empty Hearse" that looks 
like an archive. He locates a file on Smallwood and her husband 
and clips a picture of another woman to it, but not before 
brushing it against his lips like a creepy perv.
   Chrissy: So are we combining Milverton with Gruner, the 
    guy who "collected" women and ruined their lives?
   Diandra: Isn't that kind of what Holy Peter was too? You 
    know, I'm beginning to suspect that Doyle had a lot of 
    overlap in his villains. 

And then suddenly we're in what looks like Smallwood's office. 
Magnussen gets up from a plushy leather chair and asks if he 
can "join" her. She thinks it's highly inappropriate for them 
to have any contact with each other at all outside of the 
inquiry. He completely ignores her, pulling up a chair beside 
her and grabbing her hand. He starts talking about how her 
husband was having an affair with a woman named Helen back in 
1982. Smallwood says so what? She wasn't with him yet. He says 
he has their correspondences, some of which were very...shall 
we say...racy. He starts reciting one of the less explicit 
passages. Smallwood asks what the hell his point is here. Also, 
could he let go of her hand? Magnussen says the point is that 
Helen was 15 at the time. Smallwood spits the defense her 
husband probably gave: she looked older than that. Magnussen 
says oh, yes, "she looked delicious". He saw all those pictures 
she sent him. But let's disregard that little hint that he's 
the real pervert here. Smallwood stresses that her husband only 
met the girl once and when he figured out how old she really 
was, he broke it off. "Facts are for history books," Magnussen 
says. "I work in news." It should be noted here that Mofftiss 
have stated repeatedly that their inspiration for Magnussen is 
Rupert Murdoch of FOX "News". Yeah. Let that sink in for a 
moment.

Smallwood coolly notes that Magnussen's hand, still gripping 
hers, is sweaty. He says yeah...he has a condition. She says 
yeah, well, it's gross. He shrugs and says he's used to it. 
"The whole world is wet to my touch." Instead of spontaneously 
regurgitating right then and there, she threatens to scream for 
security and have him "removed" like the disgusting boil he 
apparently is. He pulls her hand up and sniffs her wrist, 
identifying her perfume as Claire-de-la-Lune. She tries to yank 
her hand back and he asks if she wants to hit him now. Well, 
now that you mention it... He suggests that she's too old and 
feeble to do such a thing and maybe she should call somebody to 
come help her after all. Instead of grabbing a letter opener 
and driving it into his crotch while shrieking "does this seem 
feeble to you?!" she yanks her hand back and sits stewing. He 
notes that she won't call for security because now there are 
"consequences". He has the letters and therefore he has power 
over her. She calls that what it is: blackmail. He says nah, 
it's "ownership". She snarls that he does NOT own her and he 
leans over and LICKS her face. Because he's a subtle creep. 
   Chrissy: Oh, good. I was really hoping they'd bring back 
    the rape subtext on this show. 
   Diandra: Did it ever really go away?
He pulls out a handkerchief and wipes his tongue, muttering 
that Claire de la Lune doesn't taste as good as it smells. She 
manages to hold it together while he drops the handkerchief on 
the desk and walks away, then shudders and probably wishes she 
had some bleach handy to wash THAT off.

Sometime later, she's in a fancy ass car, still shuddering as 
she wipes at her face. The driver asks if she's okay. She says 
yes, but grumbles that NOBODY ever stands up to Magnussen. 
"There isn't a man or woman in England capable of stopping that 
disgusting creature." She goes quiet suddenly, her face 
suggesting she just thought of something, and orders the driver 
to turn around. He asks where they're going. "Baker Street."

Opening credits. This episode is apparently written by Stephen 
Moffat alone. This might explain some things.

John is having the same flashback dreams of Afghanistan, but 
now they're intercut with one of his first conversations with 
Sherlock about how he actually thrives on danger and would 
absolutely like to join him on some potentially dangerous 
mission. He gasps awake to somebody banging on a door 
somewhere, shaking Mary awake beside him. He goes to the door 
to find a crying woman who apologizes for waking them. Mary 
asks if that's Kate and if John is planning to let her in. John 
startles and invites "Kate" inside. 

John goes to make tea and brings back a tray to set on the 
coffee table by the couch where Mary is comforting the still 
crying Kate. Mary explains that it's Isaac. John says oh...her 
husband. Mary says no, you twat, her son. Way to care about 
your neighbors. Kate says he's gone missing again. Mary looks 
to John who's like 'um...this is the drug addict, right?' Mary 
is like 'yeah, good for you. We will discuss your tact later.' 
John ignores her and says if Kate is looking for Sherlock 
Holmes, he hasn't seen him in "ages". Since the wedding, in 
fact. Huh. Strange coincidence.
   Chrissy: Oh, come on, you're not supposed to be the 
    heartless one!
   Diandra: On the other hand, apparently he's dreaming 
    about him, so there's that.
Kate is like "who?" "See," Mary says. "That DOES happen." Ha. 
Kate says there's this place Isaac and his friends usually go 
to. A drug den. Well, it used to be a house, but it's 
practically falling apart now. John asks where it is exactly 
and Mary gives him a wide eyed look. 

Cut to John going out to the car that he suddenly knows how to 
drive because Martin Freeman had to learn since last season so 
he could play a Minnesotan. Mary trails after him to ask if 
he's serious. He says yeah, why not? If she won't go to the 
police, he might as well retrieve the kid. Call it being 
"neighborly". She asks why he's being so..."I don't know. 
What's the matter with you?" He yelps that there is NOTHING 
wrong with him and takes half a breath before adding that she 
should imagine he just said that without shouting. 
   Chrissy: Because YOU'RE THE ONE WITH THE TEMPER ISSUES 
    HERE AND WE ALL KNOW IT. I AM PERFECTLY CALM AND 
    REASONABLE.
   Diandra: Let's just leave the Trump references out of 
    this one, can we?
She grumbles that she'll try, wraps her bathrobe tighter around 
herself and rushes to the passenger seat. John objects to her 
coming with him because she's pregnant. She fires back that he 
can't just LEAVE her by herself then, can he? He sighs and 
climbs in the car without another word.

At the drug den, he fetches a tire iron from the trunk and 
shoves it down his pants. Mary giggles and asks what the hell 
he thinks he's doing with THAT. He snarks that there are plenty 
of "smackheads" in there and...you know...one of them might 
need help changing a tire or something. He says if anything 
happens she should just leave because he'll be fine. She 
declares this whole scenario to be a "tiny bit sexy". He opts 
for the Han Solo response: "Yeah, I know".
   Chrissy: And that is how I came to be known as Three 
    Continents Watson in the military. Well, that and the 
    fact that I told everyone I was Scottish. You wouldn’t 
    believe the number of women who cream their knickers if 
    you put on a kilt and speak with an accent so thick it 
    barely sounds like you’re speaking English anymore. 
    They’ll even overlook the fact that your singing sounds 
    like a poorly tuned bagpipe.
   Diandra: ...
   Chrissy: Never saw "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot" then?
   Diandra: Ah...no. Any good?
   Chrissy: No.

John is greeted at the door marked "KEEP OUT" by a scruffy 
looking guy in a hoodie who demands to know what the hell he 
wants. John, still riding the "I am a sexy badass" high, just 
shoves his way in, saying he's looking for a "friend". And then 
he adds that he's looking for a "specific" friend and not just, 
you know, browsing for someone who'll blow him for drug money 
or something. Not that he would ever do that. Ahem. I'm 
paraphrasing a bit. The scruffy guy says he has to go because 
they don't do visitors here. John gives up his half-ass search 
down the main hall and asks if the guy has seen Isaac Whitney. 
Scruffy guy pulls a knife. John is like what? Is that supposed 
to be a clue or something? The guy gestures at the still open 
door and tells John to leave or else he'll cut him. John 
chuckles that he's too far away to do that and says here, he'll 
help him. He steps closer and says "now concentrate. Isaac 
Whitney." Scruffy is like 'who the hell does this guy think he 
is' and says he WARNED him that... John knocks the knife from 
his hand, kicks his leg out from under him and shoves him into 
the wall. The guy collapses to the ground and groans. John 
picks up the dropped knife, leans over him and asks if he's 
"concentrating" yet. Scruffy whines that John broke his arm. 
John says nah, he just sprained it. Scruffy yelps that it feels 
"squishy". John says trust him: he's a doctor. He knows what 
he's doing. It's just a sprain. Scruffy yelps that he doesn't 
know where Isaac is. John frowns at him and he offers that he 
might be upstairs. John says there, that wasn't so hard, was 
it? He pats Scruffy's knee and heads up a staircase. Scruffy 
calls after him that he's "mental". John grumbles that he's 
just used to a "better class of criminal".

Upstairs, he finds a bunch of junkies in varying stages of 
dragon chasing. He finds Isaac sitting on a mattress along the 
wall, looking dazed, and bends down to check him over. Isaac 
identifies him as "Doctor Watson" and asks where he is, 
slurring almost entirely incoherently. "Arse end of the 
universe with the scum of the Earth," John answers.
   Chrissy: Well, it figures we'd find you at the end of 
    the universe, but shouldn't you have a crazy alien and 
    a depressed android with you?
   Diandra: [high fives Chrissy]
Isaac asks if John has come for him then. John, who has 
apparently gotten increasingly sarcastic lately, asks if Isaac 
thinks he knows anybody else here. The lump on the mattress 
next to Isaac rolls over and a familiar voice is all 'oh, hi! 
Long time no see. Did you come to get me too?' John turns to 
see Sherlock, dressed in sweats, blinking up at him.
   Chrissy: Too bad he missed that little badass display of 
    John's downstairs. 
   Diandra: Probably a good thing, actually. It would be 
    cruel to tease him with what he can't have anymore.

Outside, Isaac staggers up to the car, greeting "Mrs. Watson", 
who asks where her husband is. "They're having a fight," Isaac 
says. Mary asks WHO is having a fight and we cut to Sherlock 
slamming through a door that flies right off its hinges while 
yelling "for god's sake, I'm on a CASE, John!" John is right 
behind him, yelling back that it took him ONE month to wind up 
in a fucking drug den and HOW IS THAT GOING TO LOOK ONCE IT 
HITS THE PAPERS? Sherlock snaps that he's undercover. John says 
he is NOT. Sherlock throws up his hands and shrieks "well, I'm 
not NOW," in the most ridiculous and overdramatic fashion 
possible.
   Chrissy: Drama queen.
   Diandra: OH YEAH? WELL [blows raspberry].
   Chrissy: Shall we revisit the conversation about which 
    of us is the woman?
   Diandra: I just removed a door!
   Chrissy: Yeah. And?
   Diandra: Oh, shut up.

Mary pulls up beside them and orders them both to get in the 
car NOW. They do without comment, John getting in the passenger 
seat and Sherlock in the back with Isaac. Before they can 
leave, the scruffy guy comes up, cradling his arm and begs them 
to let him come with them because he thinks his arm really is 
broken. Mary snaps at him to go away. John is like whatever, 
it's just a sprain, but get in if it'll make you shut up. Mary 
asks if there's anybody else they should wait for then. 
   Chrissy: Oh, shut up and drive.
   Diandra: Yeah, okay. In other news, guess who's not 
    getting any tonight after all?
   Chrissy: What, are you going to play Mary now?
   Diandra: I don't see why not.

Scruffy squeezes in beside Isaac and Sherlock, who he calls 
Shezza. John does a double take and asks "Shezza?" Sherlock 
grumbles that he WAS undercover until John so rudely 
interrupted him. So you had to pick an alias and you went with 
a porn star name?
   Chrissy: Oh, don’t be ridiculous. He’s not a porn star. 
    He's a genderfluid supermodel. It’ll be more obvious 
    when he grows his hair out and shaves off his eyebrows. 
    Presumably among other things.
   Diandra: ...
   Chrissy: Didn’t see "Zoolander 2" either, huh?
   Diandra: Uh, no. I didn’t even see the first one. I 
    figured I would be better off simply setting fire to a 
    pile of money.
   Chrissy: Yeah, probably.
Mary is with me on this one as she smirks at him in the rear 
view mirror and says no, seriously...Shezza? Were the more 
ridiculous names already taken? Sherlock sighs but before he 
can say anything John announces that they're going to St. 
Bart's and he's calling ahead to tell Molly that they need to 
have Sherlock pee in a cup.

Cut to Molly's lab, where Molly is finishing checking the urine 
sample under a microscope. John asks if he's clean then. Molly 
just steps in front of Sherlock and wallops him across the face 
three times. Everyone stares at her wide-eyed while she rants 
about Sherlock throwing away the gifts he was born with and he 
needs to apologize to his friends RIGHT NOW. So...that's a no 
then? Sherlock rubs at his face and says he's sorry about her 
broken engagement, but he's kind of grateful she's not wearing 
a ring right now. She snarls at him to knock it off, although 
now that he's basically called her bluff it looks kind of like 
a kitten desperately trying to make believe she's a tiger.
   Chrissy: That's...what?

John takes over, chastising Sherlock for not calling him if he 
was in danger of using again. Sherlock brushes him off and says 
this is all for a case. John asks what the hell sort of case 
requires this. Sherlock deflects by asking when John started 
taking a bicycle to work. John says no, fuck you, we're not 
playing this game. Sherlock continues that he started doing it 
recently and very determinedly. John says he's not interested 
in this bullshit. Scruffy, being tended to by Mary off to the 
side, pipes up that HE is. Then he yelps and Mary apologizes 
and says his arm IS only sprained. Scruffy says yeah, SOMEBODY 
hit him. Then they try to play it off as just a fight between 
him and some other addict even though Sherlock, John and 
Scruffy all exchange looks that make it clear they know what 
really happened. Sherlock pointedly says that yes, in a way, he 
WAS attacked by an addict in need of a fix, wasn't he? They 
stare at each other meaningfully. 

Scruffy suddenly pipes up that it's the creases in John's 
shirt, isn't it? They show that it was folded recently but it 
isn't new. So he dressed in a hurry this morning and all his 
shirts look like that. Probably because he cycles to work every 
morning and takes a shower when he gets there, getting dressed 
in the clothes he brings with him. So basically the shirts are 
folded in a way that makes them easy to pack. John stares at 
him like 'oh, shit, there are two of them now'. Sherlock grins 
and notes that that was really good. "I further deduce," 
Scruffy adds. "That you've only started recently because you've 
got a bit of chafing." John looks down and Sherlock says no, 
actually, he always walks like that.
   Chrissy: Yes, having an enormous trouser snake is both a 
    blessing and a curse.
   Diandra: Trouser snake? Really?
   Chrissy: What would you prefer I call it?
   Diandra: I don't know. Little John?
   Chrissy: Pfffftttt, little? ...actually, you know what? 
    I just remembered that that name has always been used 
    ironically, so let's go with that.

Sherlock asks what Scruffy's name is again. Scruffy says people 
call him The Wig. Sherlock says no, come on. Seriously. Scruffy 
falters and says um...Wiggy? Sherlock says no, try again. 
Scruffy sighs and says his name is Bill Wiggins. Sherlock 
compliments "Billy" on his observational skills. His phones 
chirps and he fishes it out and gushes excitedly at whatever he 
sees on the screen. "There's every chance that my drug habit 
might hit the newspapers. The game is on!" He puts the phone to 
his ear and slips out the door. 

And we go right to the cab, where Sherlock is asking if John 
knows who Charles Augustus Magnusson is. John says yeah, he 
owns a few newspapers. Mainly the ones John doesn't read. Good 
for you, John. Sherlock apparently isn't listening, because he 
has suddenly realized that the other people they were with seem 
to have disappeared, leaving just him and John. John sighs and 
reminds him that Mary is taking the other guys home while John 
is stuck with him and they already discussed this at some 
point. Sherlock looks at the ceiling and mutters that he must 
have filtered out all the talking everybody else was doing. He 
does that a lot. "I've had Mrs. Hudson on semi-permanent mute."
   Chrissy: The fact that Mrs. Hudson hasn't murdered him 
    yet really speaks to the affection she holds for him.
   Diandra: Well, he did help her get rid of her husband.

The cab pulls up to 221b and Sherlock can tell just by looking 
at the door that Mycroft is inside. He jumps out of the cab, 
John calling after him like 'well, I guess I'm paying the fare 
then'. As you have been since you started living with him? 
Yeah.
   Chrissy: You know, sometimes I wonder how you function 
    when I'm not around. 
   Diandra: ...what? Did you say something? I wasn't 
    listening.
Sherlock is standing in front of the door, noting that Mycroft 
always straightens the door knocker because of his raging OCD. 
He doesn't even know he's doing it. Sherlock shifts it back out 
of alignment and opens the door. John asks why he did that. "Do 
what," Sherlock asks. John just shrugs like 'yeah, if you can't 
see it I'm not going to point it out.'

Mycroft is sitting at the bottom of the stairs just inside the 
door and greets Sherlock by asking if he's "back on the sauce" 
then. Isn't that usually how you refer to alcohol? Sherlock 
asks what the hell he's doing here. John says he called him. 
Sherlock rolls his eyes and Mycroft continues to ramble about 
old habits and how very much he is like their Uncle Rudy. 
"Though in many ways cross-dressing would've been a wiser path 
for you."
   Chrissy: I was working my way up to that. Did I mention 
   the eyebrows?
Sherlock is like 'gee, thanks for this John. Really appreciate 
it.' Mycroft says of course John called him. Now quit pouting 
and tell me where you hid the drugs. There's a noise upstairs 
and Sherlock storms past Mycroft to find Anderson already 
searching in the kitchen. Anderson apologizes and says it's for 
his own good. A woman beside him gushes that THAT'S Sherlock 
Holmes and says she thought he'd be taller. Heh. Sherlock 
ignores her, pulling the hood on his sweatshirt up and flopping 
into his chair, laying sideways in a fetal position. 

Mycroft comes in behind him and introduces these people going 
through his flat as members of Sherlock's "fan club". He 
figured he could trust them and they'd be willing to search 
through the potential health hazard that is 221b for him 
without involving the police (presumably) because he's a 
celebrity now and can't afford to have his drug habit made 
public. Sherlock grumbles that he doesn't HAVE a drug habit. 
John interrupts this little argument by noting that his usual 
chair is missing. Sherlock poutily says it was blocking his 
view of the kitchen. 
   Chrissy: Sure. Keep telling yourself that.
   Diandra: Oh, what? You think I just couldn't bear 
    looking at it and thinking about how you LEFT ME? You 
    thought maybe I was sitting around just staring at it 
    and wishing I could go back in time and try to stop the 
    wedding or even stop you from meeting Mary in the first 
    place because I just can't bear to think of what might 
    have been?
   Chrissy: .......
   Diandra: Yeah, okay, I might have had other reasons.

Sherlock grumbles that John was gone and he saw an opportunity. 
Oh, hiss. 
   Chrissy: WE WERE ON A BREAK.
Mycroft asks Anderson and co (are they still called the Empty 
Hearse club?) if they've found anything yet. Sherlock says no, 
they wouldn't have, because there's nothing for them to find. 
Mycroft notes that his bedroom door is shut and he has never 
closed his bedroom door before without Mycroft or mummy 
ordering him to. He heads for the door and Sherlock perks up in 
alarm and yells at him to stop because he's made his point. 
John sighs and grumbles "Jesus, Sherlock." Mycroft turns 
around, satisfied that he's won this argument and says he'll 
call their parents in Oklahoma. "Won't be the first time your 
substance abuse has wreaked havoc on their line dancing." I...I 
just...what? Sherlock rolls his eyes and says it's not what he 
thinks: this is all for a case. Mycroft asks what sort of case 
could possibly justify this. Sherlock says it's about 
Magnusson. At the name Mycroft's smirk falls and his posture 
stiffens. He whirls on Anderson and friend and informs them 
that they did NOT just hear that name and if he ever catches 
wind of them saying they heard it in this apartment in this 
context he will see to it that incriminating evidence is found 
on their computers. "Don't reply. Just look frightened and 
scuttle." They leave the room silently. He turns on John and 
says he hopes he won't have to threaten him too. John looks at 
him like 'seriously?' and says they'd probably both find that 
embarrassing. 
   Chrissy: Yeah, come at me, bro. I guarantee you I have 
   bigger brass ones.

Sherlock snorts. Mycroft isn't amused. He says Magnusson is 
none of their business. Sherlock recovers to note that that 
must mean this is Mycroft's jurisdiction. Mycroft says they can 
consider Magnusson under his protection, yes, and if they try 
to go up against Magnusson, they will have to fight him too. 
Sherlock says yeah, sure and goes to hold the door open, 
shooing Mycroft out. Mycroft gets in his face and says this is 
"unwise". Sherlock grabs his wrist and wrenches his arm behind 
his back, throwing him into the nearest wall. He says Mycroft 
really should know better than to taunt him while he's high. 
John suggests Mycroft just go and not test his luck because 
Sherlock is totally strong enough to break him and he's kind of 
worried he's in a mental state to actually do it right now. 
Sherlock lets go and paces back toward his chair. John uses the 
same 'don't talk, just run' line on Mycroft and hands him his 
umbrella. 

He waits until Mycroft leaves to go back over to Sherlock. 
Sherlock asks what time it is. John says 8 o clock. Sherlock 
grumbles that he's meeting "him" in three hours and he needs to 
take a bath. He heads for the bathroom and John presses that 
Sherlock said this was all for a case. What sort of case? 
Sherlock cryptically says it's "too big and dangerous for any 
sane individual to get involved in", which is why he's doing 
it. John asks if he's trying to scare him away. Sherlock says 
fuck no, "I'm trying to recruit you." Because we all know John 
is a sucker for dangerous bullshit. He goes into the bathroom, 
calling "stay out of my bedroom." 
   Chrissy: Because that's not suspicious. Particularly 
   when you've never said that before.

John hesitates, then starts marching in that direction, 
possibly to go into the bedroom anyway, when the bedroom door 
opens and Janine, the maid of honor from the last episode 
appears in the doorway wearing what is probably Sherlock's 
shirt. "Oh, John, hi. How are you," she giggles. John stares at 
her like 'I...I don't...where...what... why...' Janine asks if 
everybody has gone then. She brushes past him on her way to the 
kitchen, babbling that she's going to be late for work and 
grabs a French press. She says it sounded like there was an 
argument going on. "Was it Mike?" John is like 'who?' Janine is 
like 'yeah, you know, Mike? They're always fighting. Brothers 
and such.' John realizes she means Mycroft and she laughs at 
the idea that anyone actually calls him that. Having apparently 
done nothing with the French press, she asks John if he could 
put some coffee on so she can go get dressed. John splutters, 
but agrees to do it. She asks how Mary is doing and how he's 
liking married life. He says everything is "fine" and reaches 
for one of the shelves. Janine waves at the other side of the 
kitchen and says oh, they moved the coffee over there. "Where's 
Sherl?" John repeats this new nickname and smirks like 'oh, I 
am totally going to tease the shit out of him for that one'. He 
clears his throat and says he's in the bath and he'll probably 
be out in a minute. Janine says nah, that's not likely and 
disappears into the bathroom. John gapes as splashing and 
giggling sounds emanate from behind the door. 
   Chrissy: Help! I took a wrong turn and now I'm stuck in 
   the Twilight Zone!

Sometime later, John is sitting on the coffee table (you know, 
since he doesn't have a chair anymore) when Sherlock comes back 
in the room, cleaned up and dressed in his better clothes, and 
says so..."you've probably got some questions". 
   Chrissy: Um...yes. At least a dozen.
He sits in his chair like a normal person this time. John 
watches Janine, also dressed in her own clothes now, heading 
back for the bedroom before starting with "you have a 
girlfriend?" Sherlock says yeah and immediately switches the 
conversation to Magnusson, who he describes as a shark. He asks 
if John has ever stood in front of the shark tank at the London 
Aquarium and gotten a good look at those cold, dead eyes. "I've 
dealt with murderers, psychopaths, terrorists, serial killers. 
None of them can turn my stomach like Charles Augustus 
Magnusson." John just stares for a beat and says basically 'so 
that's a yes on the girlfriend thing then?'
   Chrissy: Sorry, I just can't stop picturing you having 
   sex with her now. It's making it difficult to focus. 
   What was the question?

Sherlock says yes, he's dating Janine. Obviously. John says 
yes, well, ahem, uh...so...no, seriously? 
   Chrissy: You're in a relationship with someone? A woman? 
    How does that even work?
   Diandra: You need me to draw you a picture or something?
   Chrissy: Actually, yes, because up until just now I 
    would have guessed you didn't understand the mechanics 
    of sleeping with a woman yourself.
   Diandra: Oh, what? Just because I repeatedly point out 
    that women are "not my area" and nearly drop my teeth 
    whenever you go all bad ass former military captain... 
    where was I going with this?
   Chrissy: I have no idea, but please continue making my 
    argument for me.

Sherlock says yes, he's really dating Janine. And they're "in a 
good place" and it's "um...very affirming." 
   Chrissy: The rocket situation is firmly under control.
   Diandra: Oh, god, not that again. 
"You got that from a book," John accuses. Sherlock says 
EVERYONE got that from a book. Janine interrupts to announce 
that she's leaving and they should behave themselves.
   Chrissy: Although it would probably be more fun if you 
    don't. Let me know so I can plan tonight. Also, you 
    should let me know if I should bring the paddle or if 
    you just want me to use my hand.
   Diandra: Oh, good lord, are you playing Janine now?
   Chrissy: Why not?
   Diandra: No, it's fine. It's just that your version of 
    Janine sounds an awful lot like Irene. 
   Chrissy: Well, if she did that might explain what 
    Sherlock sees in her.

Janine perches on the arm of Sherlock's chair and nuzzles his 
face, chirping that he's going to have to tell her where he was 
all last night. He says he was working. John stares at them, 
his mouth actually hanging open and twitching occasionally, 
like he's trying to work out when the planet totally spun off 
its axis. She babbles that she's "the only one who really knows 
what you're like."
   Chrissy: Okay. That's it. Now you're just looking for a 
    fight.
   Diandra: You know, I'm worried our multiple 
    personalities are going to catch up with us at some 
    point here. 
   Chrissy: Oh, like you've never argued with your split 
    personalities before?
   Diandra: ...it's sad that you know me well enough to 
    know the answer to that question already.

Sherlock swipes a finger on her nose affectionately. She turns 
to John to say that she hasn't told Mary about any of this 
because she wanted to surprise her, so... John assures her that 
Mary will definitely be surprised. As will EVERYONE ELSE. 
Janine says they need to have John and Mary over for dinner 
soon, but they should do it at her place because this apartment 
really is a "scuzz dump".
   Chrissy: Which reminds me, did I ever tell you what my 
    nickname was in college, Sherl?
   Diandra: Yeah, I'm not letting you bait me with that 
    one.

Sherlock laughs and John is like 'yeah! dinner! sounds great!'
   Chrissy: I literally have no idea what I'm saying 
   anymore. I think my brain has been scrambled. Coffee! 
   Girlfriend! Dinner! Could somebody please pinch me to 
   verify that I'm not having a really weird dream right 
   now?! 
She says she has to get going and climbs off of Sherlock, 
bouncing over to the door with a 'it was nice seeing you, 
John'. 
   Chrissy: I especially liked the part where I got to rub 
    it in your face that I'm sleeping with your old 
    boyfriend. And speaking of rubbing and faces 
    mffffggggghhhharrrrr
   Diandra: I'll let you go if you promise to not finish 
    that sentence. 
Sherlock opens the door for Janine and tells her to call him 
later. She says yeah, maybe. "Unless I meet someone prettier." 
They kiss and John gets a WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE look 
on his face before finding sudden interest in the drapes. 
"Solve me a crime, Sherlock Holmes," she purrs before walking 
out the door. 

Sherlock's smile drops off the minute she turns her back and he 
closes the door and returns to his discussion of how vile 
Magnusson is like none of that just happened. He says it's 
publicly known that Magnusson is owner of newspapers, but he's 
really much more than that. "He uses his power and wealth to 
gain information." This, in turn, gives him more power and 
wealth. He knows the pressure points of pretty much everyone of 
importance in the entire Western world. Basically, he's Irene 
Adler on steroids and without the BDSM. Or, as Sherlock 
describes it "the Napoleon of blackmail". 
   Chrissy: No, your description made more sense.

Sherlock pulls up some pictures and an architectural frame of 
the mansion Magnusson was headed toward earlier on his laptop 
as he adds that Magnusson has built "an unassailable 
architecture of forbidden knowledge" which is called Appledore. 
John just stares at him and says "dinner."
   Chrissy: I'm still trying to picture you having sex with 
    a woman. Were you talking?
   Diandra: UGH! Is it really that hard?
   Chrissy: I really don't know. Is it?
Sherlock blinks at him and says "seriously? I just told you 
that the Western world is run from this house and you want to 
talk about dinner?"
   Chrissy: Well, no, I'd rather talk about whether you 
    were here at all last night before going to that drug 
    den and the related implications of that, but...
   Diandra: You mean whether or not we've had sex.
   Chrissy: Yeah, sure. I wasn't going to say anything, 
    but...
   Diandra: Jesus, and you complain about MY inability to 
    listen to what people are saying.

John tells him to go ahead and talk about Appledore then. He's 
listening. Then he looks at the door Janine recently exited 
while Sherlock continues, suggesting that he really isn't. 
Sherlock, apparently full of these comparative descriptions 
today, calls it the Alexandrian Library of scandals and 
secrets. And Magnusson is too smart to have it on a computer 
because those can be hacked. It's all in hard copies of some 
form in a vault under the house. He says as long as those 
copies exist "the personal freedom of everyone you've ever met 
is a fantasy."
   Chrissy: Uh-huh. So, do you make her wear a strap on?
   Diandra: I will kick you out.

Mrs. Hudson interrupts before John can say anything, actually, 
to say that the doorbell just rang and didn't Sherlock hear it? 
Sherlock says no, he put it in the fridge because it kept 
making annoying ringing noises. John asks who it is. Mrs. 
Hudson goes back down to tell the visitor that they can go up 
and we see Magnusson's glasses vision with relevant information 
on her. Full name Martha Louise Hudson. Landlady, widow, semi-
reformed alcoholic and former exotic dancer. Wait...seriously? 
21% in debt. Her pressure point is marijuana. 

Two bodyguards enter in front of Magnusson to frisk Sherlock 
and John for weapons. The one frisking John pointedly relieves 
him of a nasty looking switchblade and the tire iron he has 
apparently had shoved down his pants since the beginning of 
this episode. No wonder he was walking funny. He leans toward 
the guy as he's holding up the tire iron and mutters that this 
doesn't mean he isn't pleased to see him.
   Chrissy: I could take you with both hands tied behind my 
    back. Wanna go?
   Diandra: Did you happen to get a contact high from that 
    drug den? I know it's been a while, but you can't 
    possibly have gone from "I need excitement in my life" 
    to "I am invincible" so fast. And just how big is 
    Little John that you were able to keep a tire iron in 
    your pants for the past several hours possibly without 
    even noticing?
   Chrissy: Wouldn't you like to know.
   Diandra: I would, actually, but you always yelled at me 
    when I tried to peak, even though I kept telling you it 
    was for scientific purposes.
Sherlock says he can vouch for Doctor Watson and if Magnusson 
knows who Sherlock is, he knows who John is. He addresses this 
at Magnusson himself as he enters the room and says he thought 
they were meeting in his office.

Magnusson looks at John and his glasses list his military and 
doctor status, his porn preferences as "normal" and his status 
as "unimportant". To whom? His pressure points are his wife 
Mary and his alcoholic sister who may or may not actually 
exist. Magnusson says this is his office now, picks up some 
papers and goes to sit on the couch. Sherlock says he was asked 
to "intercede" with Magnusson by Lady Smallwood "on the matter 
of her husband's letters". She would like them back. Magnusson 
just stares at Sherlock and the text from his glasses lists his 
porn preferences as "normal" (wait...he looks at porn? Really? 
Is that a mistake?), his brother as MI6 and the fact that he 
was officially declared dead from 2011-2013. The part where it 
says "pressure point" starts scrolling crazily like there's a 
big long list of things there, but if you pause it you can see 
that it keeps scrolling through the same six things. John 
Watson (obviously), Irene Adler, Jim Moriarty, Redbeard, Hounds 
of Baskerville and opium. I would think cocaine would make more 
sense there, but what do I know?
   Chrissy: Any drugs, really. 
The point is that we're obviously supposed to think there's 
more to it than that, while being able to pick out any of those 
things as it flies by.

Magnusson chuckles. Sherlock asks if it was something he said. 
Magnusson says no, he was just reading.
   Chrissy: I especially like the part where your military 
    fetish sites are labeled "normal" 
   Diandra: Seriously, though, on what planet could 
    Sherlock looking at porn be normal by any definition? 
    He should have either had the same result as Lady 
    Smallwood (none) or a search history that runs the 
    gamut of every possible weird fetish because he was 
    researching how the victim of a case wound up crushed 
    by a horse while wearing a bridle and a corset.
   Chrissy: Or just...you know...anything having to do with 
    Irene Adler.
   Diandra: So basically what I just said minus the horse.
   Chrissy: Ahem. Yeah. 

Magnusson says "Redbeard" out loud and Sherlock's face twitches 
like he's had the air sucked out of him suddenly. Magnusson 
apologizes and prompts him to continue. Sherlock clears his 
throat and starts to repeat Lady Smallwood's request. Magnusson 
interrupts him again to ask where the bathroom is. One of the 
bodyguards says it's on the other side of the kitchen. Sherlock 
loudly repeats that he's been asked to negotiate the return of 
the letters. Magnusson takes his glasses off and asks "is it 
like the rest of the flat?" Even his own guards don't get what 
he means, so he clarifies that he's asking after the condition 
of the bathroom. The guard says yes, it's like the rest of the 
flat and Magnusson decides he won't use it then. Sherlock, 
desperately trying to get back to the original thread here, 
asks if he is an acceptable intermediary. Magnusson just looks 
out the window, blinks at Sherlock and smarms that he really 
LIKES Lady Smallwood. He smacks his lips a couple times in case 
that was too subtle. He starts rambling about how very ENGLISH 
she is, except she actually has a backbone. He kicks the table 
aside and walks between Sherlock and John to the fireplace 
while he continues that the thing about Brits is that they are 
so very... domesticated. He unzips his pants and pisses into 
the fireplace while he brags about how the British will let you 
do just ANYTHING without even trying to stop you because 
they're just too polite. In fact, they might apologize for 
being in your way. He says he has "interests" all over the 
world, but he tries everything out in England first because "if 
it works here, I'd try it in a real country."

He zips his pants and retrieves a wet wipe from one of the 
guards while he continues his taunts about how much of a 
doormat England is. No, dear, you're thinking of Belgium. Which 
could apparently be wiped completely off the map and nobody 
would even notice except maybe John. Bonus points to anyone who 
gets that reference. He says he's keeping the letters because 
he might need them later and Sherlock can feel free to pass 
that message to Lady Smallwood. Then he drops the wipe on the 
floor, pulls some papers just barely from the inside pocket of 
jacket so Sherlock can see that he had the letters on him the 
whole time, and saunters from the room. "Jesus," John 
splutters, looking back at the fireplace. Sherlock asks if he 
noticed the one "extraordinary" thing Magnusson did. John says 
um...yeah, there's one thing in particular that comes to mind. 
Sherlock, off in his own world again, says yes, he showed them 
the letters. John just rolls his eyes and says sure. That must 
have been it. Sherlock continues rambling that if Magnusson 
brought the letters to London he must be willing to negotiate 
regardless of what he says. And he is only willing to do that 
with people whose "pressure points" he has already determined. 
"So, clearly he believes I'm a drug addict and no serious 
threat."
   Chrissy: Wow. For a genius, you are sometimes 
   spectacularly clueless.

He puts on his coat and peaks out the window to watch Magnusson 
get in his car. Then he adds that if the letters are in London, 
they will be in his office safe tonight while he's out doing a 
business dinner. John asks how he knows Magnusson's schedule. 
Sherlock totally neglects to answer this yet, instead just 
declaring that he'll see John tonight after he does some 
shopping. He starts running out the door and John calls after 
him wait...what about tonight? Sherlock says he'll "text 
instructions". 
   Chrissy: Don't bother wearing anything too elaborate. I 
   want to be able to remove it quickly. 
John says oh yeah? Well, maybe I'll text you back if I'm not 
busy. Sherlock says he's not. He already checked.
   Chrissy: Goddamn it. I keep telling Mary not to talk to 
    him behind my back.
   Diandra: And I keep reminding you that you are not the 
    boss of me.
   Chrissy: Oh, right. You're playing Mary now. You're 
    right, this has the potential to get very confusing.
   Diandra: Want to stop?
   Chrissy: Hell no.

John groans and follows Sherlock out to the street where 
Sherlock instructs him to NOT bring a gun. Or a knife. Or a 
tire iron. "Probably best not to do any arm-spraining, but 
we'll see how the night goes."
   Chrissy: You want to field that one or should I?
John, who pulls the door shut by the knocker, leaving it askew 
again, says Sherlock is making a big assumption thinking he's 
coming along with whatever plans Sherlock has for tonight.
   Chrissy: Really? You're not going to respond to any of 
   this?
Sherlock says it's time John got out of the house because he's 
put on seven pounds already since the marriage and all that 
biking is obviously not working. He needs a better workout.
   Chrissy: Seriously, you're just going to let that go 
    without comment?
   Diandra: What? You want me to suggest you ride something 
    else for exercise? You think I'm trying to get you 
    alone so I can jump you?
   Chrissy: ...I don't know, probably.
   Diandra: Unrelated question: do you still have your 
    military uniform?
John says actually it's only been four pounds. Sherlock, 
climbing into the back of a cab, says well, he and Mary think 
it's seven so he's outnumbered. John glares at the retreating 
cab.

So that night, John goes to Magnusson's office building. A 
television inside is playing a news report of an MP being 
arrested on charges of corruption. Oh, do they still do that in 
England? I think they've given up on the idea in America. John 
looks around for Sherlock, but doesn't see him until Sherlock 
suddenly appears beside him to announce that Magnusson's office 
is on the top floor. He has a private flat above it and there 
are fourteen layers of security they have to get through to get 
to it "two of which aren't even legal in this country." He 
invites John to guess how he plans to break in. John is like 
'we're breaking in? You never mentioned that.' Sherlock is like 
'duh, John, try to keep up here.'

They find coffee somewhere and go up an escalator while 
Sherlock explains that there's an elevator that goes directly 
to Magnusson's suite but only he has the key to it and security 
would be alerted if anyone else even tried to operate it. He 
holds up a basic key card for the building that he says he 
stole it yesterday, but only works to get them into the 
cafeteria. He asks John what he thinks would happen if he were 
to try to use it on that private elevator.
   Chrissy: Have I ever mentioned how annoying it is when 
    you ask me questions you've just given me the answer to 
    like I'm a moron?
   Diandra: Yes, security would be alerted. Good boy. [pats 
    Chrissy/John on the head]
   Chrissy: One day I will murder you and nobody will be 
    surprised.

They stand and watch as a second, phantom version of Sherlock 
plays out the scenario and gets dragged away by security 
officers while John describes him being taken away "to a small 
room somewhere" where no one can hear him screaming. Both 
versions of Sherlock look at him like 'really? Did you need to 
add that little detail?'
   Chrissy: Yes. I really did. Fantasizing about some beefy 
    guys roughing you up relaxes me. Sometimes it helps me 
    sleep at night.
   Diandra: You do know I was tortured while I was away 
    right? In fact, there was this one Baron who...
   Chrissy: Let's not go there again.
John basically says yeah, well, he finds it amusing. Sherlock 
rolls his eyes and hands John his coffee before explaining that 
if he holds the key card against his mobile phone long enough 
it will screw with the magnetic strip and the card won't work. 
It's a common problem that Moffat is probably basing on 
personal experience. By the way, I'm pretty sure - based on my 
own experience - that this is a problem with ANY electronic 
device including remote car keys. Those cards really are 
bullshit. 

The duplicate phantom version of Sherlock swipes the card again 
as he asks John what will happen now. Twice as many security 
guards start running toward phantom Sherlock and John says it 
still won't work. Sherlock says no, but this time it's not 
being read as the WRONG card, it's being read as a CORRUPTED 
card. How would they know it wasn't Magnusson with a damaged 
card? Security wouldn't risk making that mistake, so what would 
they do? The phantom guards disappear as John says they would 
need to verify the identity of the person using the card. 
Sherlock points out the camera at eye level next to the door. 
Phantom Sherlock swipes the card and an alarm bleats as he 
explains that the camera takes a picture of the person using 
the card and sends it directly to Magnusson's office where his 
personal staff would verify his identity. This time of night, 
the only person there would be his personal assistant. John 
says so...how does that help again? Sherlock cryptically says 
"human error", pats his breast pocket and approaches the door. 

He swipes the card and waits while John continues to question 
how he thinks this is going to work, exactly. Up in the office, 
Magnusson's assistant - Janine - checks her computer and asks 
through the intercom what the hell Sherlock thinks he's doing. 
John perks up when he hears her voice. Sherlock smiles and begs 
her to let him in. She says no, he knows she can't do that. He 
looks around and pleads with her to not make him do this out 
here in front of all these people roaming the halls. John 
smiles at some of them as they pass like 'nothing to see here! 
move along!' Janine asks what he's doing, exactly. Sherlock 
takes a deep breath and pulls a jewelry box from his pocket, 
holding it up so she can see the ring inside. She gasps, has a 
minor freak out and pushes the button to let him in the 
elevator. Sherlock puts the ring away and turns to John, smile 
dropping off as he concludes that everyone has their 
weaknesses. John, mouth hanging open again, splutters that that 
was Janine. Sherlock says um...yeah? She's Magnuson's 
assistant. John asks if he really just got engaged to break 
into Magnuson's office. Sherlock stares at him and says 'yeah' 
like 'jesus, you're slow.' He points out that John can take 
some of the credit for this because Magnusson's PA just 
happened to be at his wedding. It made this whole plan SO much 
easier.
   Chrissy: HONEYPOT.
   Diandra: Yep. And suddenly everything makes perfect 
    sense because OF COURSE Sherlock wouldn't be dating 
    someone unless he was using them for something.

John splutters, tosses their coffees in the garbage and follows 
him into the elevator, pointing out that, despite all outward 
evidence of her being mentally balanced, Janine is in love with 
him. Sherlock says yeah, well...hence his earlier mention of 
human error. John just stares at him like he still can't 
believe Sherlock is really like this. He asks how far Sherlock 
is planning to go here. Sherlock says obviously he's not 
actually going to MARRY her because there are limits. John asks 
what he's planning on telling her then. Sherlock says probably 
that their entire relationship was a sham he concocted so he 
could break into her bosses office. "I imagine she'll want to 
stop seeing me at that point, but you're the expert on women."
   Chrissy: Uh, no. She'll want to murder you at that 
    point. And I might be inclined to help.
   Diandra: Oh, you love me. Despite all reason. It is your 
    weakness.

They arrive in the office to find it empty. John warily asks 
what happened to Janine then. Sherlock grumbles that that's a 
bit rude to run off after he just proposed. John finds her over 
in a corner and bends to check on her, holding up his hand to 
reveal blood. He says she's still breathing, but she was hit in 
the head. Janine kind of comes around and moans incoherently as 
John calls her name. Sherlock wanders past them to check out 
the other body - one of the security guards - further inside 
the office. John asks if he needs help. Sherlock takes in the 
tattoos behind his ear and on his hand and says he's an ex-con 
and a white supremacist so fuck him.
   Chrissy: Hey! He could run for president of the United 
    States one day!
   Diandra: What did I say earlier?
   Chrissy: Sorry.
He tells John to stay with Janine and creeps closer to 
Magnusson's desk. John hisses that they could still be here. 
Sherlock says yeah, Magnusson's chair is still warm, so he must 
not be at dinner like he's supposed to be. John says they 
should call the police. Sherlock thinks John would make a 
terrible burglar if his instinct is to call the police while 
he's breaking and entering.

Sherlock takes a deep breath and notes the presence of a 
perfume that doesn't belong to Janine. Sherlockvision cycles 
through different possibilities before identifying it as Clair-
de-lune. He asks himself out loud how he recognizes that. John 
notes that it's the perfume Mary wears. Sherlock dismisses him 
because of course it can't be that. It must be something else. 
Uh-huh. Hold that thought. There's a noise upstairs and 
Sherlock runs to find Magnusson cowering on the floor, mid 
babble about what "your husband" would think of this. The woman 
standing over him cocks a gun and he whimpers and babbles about 
how she's doing this to protect him "from the truth." Sherlock 
steps behind the woman, who is dressed all in black with a knit 
hat, and notes that if one is planning to commit a murder, they 
might want to consider wearing something other than the perfume 
they always wear. He identifies her as Lady Smallwood. 
Magnusson blinks at him, looks at the woman, and says 
um...that's not... Mary - apparently the only other person who 
wears this perfume - turns around and points the gun at 
Sherlock. After a quick look of 'oh, shit, I fucked that one 
up', Sherlock quickly runs back over the deductions he's made 
about her in Sherlockvision. Only child. Linguist. Appendix 
scar. Secret tattoo. Clever. Liar liar liar liar LIAR.

Mary asks if John is with him. Sherlock says um...he's... 
uh...yeah, he's downstairs. Magnusson, feeling braver now that 
the attention is off him, asks if she's just going to kill them 
both then. Sherlock says whatever Magnusson's got on her...he 
can help. He starts moving toward her and she threatens to kill 
him if he comes any closer. He pointedly calls her Mrs. Watson 
and predicts that she won't. So she shoots him before he can 
get any closer. He blinks and looks down at the slowly growing 
bloodstain on his shirt. She says she's really sorry about this 
and turns to point the gun at Magnusson. Everything freezes and 
an alarm blares. And then Molly is standing beside Sherlock 
noting that it isn't like they show it in the movies. There's 
no big splurt of blood and the victim flying backward like they 
were hit by a truck.

Suddenly she's in her morgue, still babbling about the physics 
of gunshot wounds as she uncovers Sherlock's body on her metal 
slab, a bullet hole in his chest. She says he's going to die 
and they need to focus and slaps the body on the table just as 
she did back in the lab. Sherlock gasps awake and snaps back to 
the room where everyone is frozen. Molly, still in front of 
him, repeats "focus!" and slaps him again.
   Chrissy: We really just wrote this whole thing so she 
   could unload all of the accumulative rage of the past 
   several episodes at once.

Back at the morgue, except this time Sherlock is both on the 
table and standing beside it looking dazed. Molly says this 
whole Mind Palace thing is great, but he only has three seconds 
of consciousness to use it right now. "So come on. What's going 
to kill you." He looks at his own body and says blood loss. She 
says great, so does he fall forward or backward?

Back in the room in Magnusson's suite, now Anderson is there 
with Molly, asking "one hole or two?"
   Chrissy: Look, I'm flattered, but that fanfiction site 
   you and that little group of yours started has some 
   really fucked up shit.
Molly clarifies: is the bullet still inside him? He runs 
through a catalogue of guns to try to determine the make of the 
one Mary is holding. Mycroft appears in the corner suddenly to 
grumble that the GUN isn't important. Also, he's an idiot. 
Sherlock suddenly turns into a child and snips that he is NOT 
stupid and Mycroft is just a poopyhead. Mycroft says yes, he is 
stupid and mommy and daddy are very disappointed in him. 
   Chrissy: Wow. You just have YEARS worth of therapy in 
    that mind palace, don't you?
   Diandra: I have no idea what you're talking about.

And now we have to take a moment to address the nepotism again, 
because the little boy playing young Sherlock happens to be the 
son of Stephen Moffat and his wife, producer Sue Vertue. I just 
want to highlight this story Stephen told in the commentary at 
this moment in the episode: "I remember telling him, ‘We are 
not giving you any support. We’re not even looking at your 
audition. Everyone else makes the choice. You have to get this 
part on merit alone,’ and he looked at me with what I thought 
was total understanding and said, ‘You are the worst dad in the 
world.’" I have no idea if that story is true or if he was just 
trying to be funny, but I love it.
   Chrissy: Either way, some therapist will be hearing 
    about it one day.
   Diandra: I ever tell you my dad was the guy every 
    fanboy/girl in England fantasized about murdering at 
    some point? Women would come up to him crying "you 
    ruined my life", which...you know...would have meant 
    something COMPLETELY different for anybody else, but...
   Chrissy: He just laughed it off. Because he's evil.

Anyway. Mycroft reminds Sherlock that he saw the whole room 
when he entered it. What was behind him? Sherlock snaps back 
into his adult self as he turns to note the mirror on the wall 
behind him. He realizes he would have heard it shatter if the 
bullet had passed all the way through him. Mycroft says yes, 
so... Sherlock says the bullet must still be inside him. Molly 
and Anderson conclude that he needs to fall on his back then so 
gravity and the bullet itself acting as a stopper will slow the 
bleeding.

The color and lighting goes wonky as he snaps back and forth 
between reality and the mind palace. He falls backward in slow 
motion, a potted plant in the background skittering in the 
other direction just to mess with our sense of reality, but 
before he hits the floor he snaps back to the morgue where he 
is looking down at his own body in one of the cold storage 
drawers. He yelps and asks what the hell is happening now. 
Molly appears to explain that he's going into shock. Sherlock 
asks what he's supposed to do about that. Mycroft is in Molly's 
place suddenly and unhelpfully says he needs to not go into 
shock. He says there must be something in this "memory palace" 
he can use to calm himself. And he'd better hurry up and find 
it because "the east wind is coming" and it's coming for him. 
There's some flashes of Sherlock running down a twisting 
staircase. He opens a door to find Mary in her wedding dress. 
She shoots him again. Then he's running down a hallway and 
opens one of the doors to find a shaggy dog. This is Redbeard, 
who Sherlock obviously named in the throes of his childhood 
pirate obsession. It is also supposedly Martin and Amanda's dog 
if I remember that bit of trivia right. 
   Chrissy: Wow, the nepotism really doesn't know any 
    bounds. 
   Diandra: Yeah, I actually missed one last season when I 
    forgot to point out Mark Gatiss' husband. I can't even 
    keep track of all of these anymore.
Sherlock kneels on the floor, vacillating between his adult and 
child self as Redbeard runs up and licks his face. "They're 
putting me down too, now," he moans. 

Sherlock falls again, both in the mind palace and in reality. 
He hits the floor and Molly appears to say that he's going to 
start feeling the pain now that he's avoided going into shock. 
He's going to have to do something to control it. Sherlock 
starts thrashing and screaming and runs down the stairs again 
and somehow winds up in a small padded cell. Moriarty is 
chained to the opposite wall in a straight jacket. Sherlock 
pants and babbles that "you never felt pain, did you? Why did 
you never feel pain?" Moriarty says no, he always FEELS it, he 
just doesn't have to FEAR it. Actually "says" isn't the right 
word there. The last part of that sentence is hissed directly 
in Sherlock's face after he takes a run at him and is pulled up 
short by the chain. Sherlock wails and falls over again while 
Moriarty hovers over him, taunting.
   Chrissy: Okay, fine, Benedict, just take the damn Emmy.

John's voice shouts his name from a distance and we snap back 
to reality where John is kneeling over Sherlock, calling him 
and asking what the hell happened. Magnusson, peeling himself 
from the floor on the other side of the room and fumbling for 
his glasses, says he was shot. Mary has completely disappeared. 
John peels back Sherlock's jacket to find the bullet hole and 
frantically reaches for his phone, yelping "who shot him?" 
Magnusson just stares at him, sliding his glasses back on, and 
John is distracted by the emergency service operator asking 
what he needs.

Meanwhile, in the mind palace, Moriarty is creepily singing a 
little ditty he just made up that goes "it's raining, I'm 
crying, Sherlock is dying." He drools and lays next to 
Sherlock, inviting him to just get it over with already. This 
is intercut with a blurry John in the ambulance shouting "we're 
losing you!"

Suddenly Sherlock is in an operating theater and a machine is 
screaming a flatline. The doctors try to revive him and then 
seem to just shrug and give up, pulling away. 

Moriarty babbles that Sherlock will love being dead. There are 
no people around to nag him all the time. Of course, his 
parents and Mrs. Hudson and the Woman will be heartbroken. Not 
to mention John. "It's him that I worry about the most. That 
wife. Pffftttt. You're letting him down, Sherlock. John Watson 
is definitely in danger." Of course, this is exactly the right 
thing to get Sherlock's attention as his eyes snap open and he 
struggles upright and runs from the padded cell, yelling John's 
name. He pulls himself up the staircase he was running down, 
which many fans have noted looks a lot like an even more 
rundown version of the stairs in the building where they found 
the woman in pink on their first case. The symbolism being that 
when we last saw that stairway, Sherlock was at the bottom of 
it and John was at the top. So in struggling up those stairs 
he's symbolically pulling himself back up to John.
   Chrissy: Pffffffffftttttttt.
   Diandra: Yeah, I didn't say I bought into it. It's not 
    like the added symbolism is really necessary as he is 
    obviously dragging himself back to life because of John 
    anyway. But more interestingly, if it is the same 
    staircase because he's populating his mind palace with 
    locations he's been in before...where does that padded 
    cell come from?
   Chrissy: I...shit.
   Diandra: Yeah.

The doctors descend on him again as the heart monitor starts 
blipping again, peaking every time he puts a hand down on the 
staircase railing in the mind palace. There's a frantic series 
of images and then he opens his eyes on the table and gasps 
around the breathing tube.

And then it's sometime later and Mary finds John pacing the 
halls of the hospital. He grins as he announces that Sherlock 
just woke up and he's going to make it. Then he says she's in 
big trouble because the first thing he said when he woke up was 
"Mary". Mary laughs like haha, that's so weird, and hugs the 
clueless idiot.

Magnusson is back at Appledore, searching through the stacks of 
blackmail information for the file with Mary's picture clipped 
to it. He smiles evilly and calls her a "bad, bad girl". 
   Chrissy: And somewhere, Mary feels a sudden need to take 
   a shower.

Sherlock is probably still coming out of anesthesia when Mary 
herself appears over him and instructs him to not tell John 
about this, prompting him to swear he will not say anything. He 
blinks woozily at her and probably wonders if he's awake.

And since we're embracing the rape subtext again with this 
show, let's toss in the deleted scene that I assume was meant 
to go about here. 

Magnusson visits Sherlock's room, which already has every 
surface of it covered with flowers and plants even though 
Sherlock still seems to be just coming out of anesthesia. 
Though this is probably explained when Magnusson notes that he 
sent many of them himself, except the carnations by the window, 
which are from Scotland Yard. And a single rose from someone 
the card identifies only as "W". Sherlock watches him from 
mostly closed eyes as Magnusson sits by the bed and starts 
stroking his hand. He mutters that he "covets" Sherlock's hands 
and picks it up, removing the pulse ox from his finger and 
rambling about musicians and artists hands. He presses his lips 
to the back of it and adds that they're like a woman's hands 
really. 
   Chrissy: Okay, now EVERYBODY has a sudden desire to take 
   a shower. 

Sherlock's hand flops back down as Magnusson lets go. Magnusson 
apologizes for his hands being so damp, but "you'll get used to 
it." 
   Chrissy: [spluttering noises] WHAT?!
He explains, while he replaces the pulse monitor, that the 
woman he knows as Mary Watson left without killing him after 
all, which is strange since that's presumably the reason she 
went to his office in the first place. And then Magnusson leans 
over until he's practically on the bed with Sherlock, brushing 
their noses together as he murmurs that he hasn't told anyone 
about Mary yet because the information is just TOO valuable. 
Sherlock breathes heavily, but can't keep his eyes open for 
long and closes them, apparently drifting off again until 
Magnusson leaves, presumably to go have a cigarette.
   Chrissy: JESUS. They're not even being subtle anymore!
   Diandra: Yeah, I saw somebody describe that as "as close 
    as they could get to an actual rape on network 
    television". Eliminated only because it would change 
    the subtext of future scenes.
   Chrissy: I'm starting to understand why fan writers like 
    you produce a lot of stories about Sherlock being raped 
    now. By the way, I think we need to have a long talk 
    about that story because you obviously have issues.
   Diandra: You think that's bad. Wait'll you see the AU.
   Chrissy: Is that the one with Sorcerer John?
   Diandra: EMPATH. HE'S AN EMPATH.

So back in the actual finished episode, Sherlock closes his 
eyes on a blurry Mary hovering over him in a dark hospital room 
and opens them in a much lighter version of that room. Janine 
is sitting next to the bed, waving tabloids at him with 
headlines like "Shag-a-lot Holmes" and "Seven Times a Night in 
Baker Street" and "He Made Me Wear the Hat". She announces that 
she's buying a cottage with all the money she just made getting 
revenge for him faking a relationship with her by spinning wild 
stories for any reporter who was willing to write them. He 
frowns at the papers and asks if she gave any of this to 
Magnusson. She says no, she gave it to all of his rival 
newspapers, so...you know...he's pissed. "Sherlock Holmes, you 
are a backstabbing, heartless, manipulative bastard," she 
snarls. He pushes a button to raise the bed so he can look her 
in the eye as he calls her a "grasping, opportunistic, 
publicity-hungry tabloid whore." She waits a half a beat and 
says "so we're good then?" He says yeah, of course they are. 
It's not like they ever actually had a thing.
   Chrissy: Although after that little exchange...if you 
    didn't still have a hole in your chest I would totally 
    jump you right here and now. 
   Diandra: Did you really have to parade around the flat 
    in my shirt, by the way? I mean, I know I said I wanted 
    to make John jealous, but it took me HOURS to get him 
    to focus again.

He asks where the cottage is. She says it's in Sussex. It has 
beehives, but she's getting rid of them. In other words, it's 
the place Sherlock retired to in the original stories. Sherlock 
squirms a bit and starts making pained noises. Janine says 
yeah, he might need to restart the morphine drip because she 
may have messed with it. He asks how much more revenge she 
thinks she needs and reaches to drive it to maximum, 
which...what brilliant person puts the controls on the 
painkillers within easy reach of an addict? She notes as much: 
that he's probably thrilled to be somewhere where they will 
gladly feed the drugs right into his body. He grumbles that it 
isn't good for his work. She says yeah, well, he won't be 
working for a while now. Then she gets back to her original 
complaint that he lied his face off to her this entire time. 
"Just once would have been nice." Before we can wonder what she 
means by that he mutters that he was waiting until they got 
married.
   Chrissy: Ha! I knew it!
   Diandra: Are you John again?
   Chrissy: Yes. Please try to keep up.

Janine says yeah, well, they both know the marriage was never 
going to happen, so...that's convenient. She sighs and says she 
has to go because she has an interview with The One Show. She 
kisses his forehead and heads for the door, turning at the last 
minute to add "you shouldn't have lied to me. I know what kind 
of man you are."
   Chrissy: Gay.
"We could have been friends."
   Chrissy: We could have helped each other find 
   boyfriends.
"I'll give your love to John and Mary."
   Chrissy: I would say no hard feelings, but...well...that 
    would be redundant.
   Diandra: Having fun over there?
   Chrissy: Well, you COULD be helping.
   Diandra: Nah, you're doing fine.

She leaves and Sherlock turns down the dial on the morphine, 
closes his eyes and goes back into his mind palace. Mary is 
standing in the middle of that hallway again, repeating her 
instructions that he not tell John about any of this. He 
circles her while Sherlockvision reminds us that she is a 
liarliarliarliarliarliar as if we needed reminding at this 
point. He asks who she is really. She just cocks her head at 
him like a curious puppy. He walks away from her and turns 
around as a gun goes off, snapping back to the hospital bed.

Elsewhere in the hospital, John is walking with Lestrade, 
warning him that Sherlock is pretty doped up, so he shouldn't 
expect him to make a whole lot of sense right now. He nods at 
the mobile phone in Lestrade's hand and reminds him he's not 
allowed to use it in here. Lestrade says he wasn't planning on 
using the phone feature. Just the video camera. Presumably to 
add to the same collection he put the videos John said he took 
after Irene drugged him. 

They arrive at the room to find the bed empty and the window 
open.

Cut to Mary on the phone asking where he would go. John is 
pacing anxiously somewhere and says who the hell knows? 
Apparently John is still at the hospital as Lestrade is barking 
into his own phone as they leave about Sherlock's three known 
hiding places. Parliament Hill, Camden Lock and Dagmar Court. 
On the other end of the line, apparently, is Mycroft, who 
corrects that there are five actually, if you count the 
greenhouse in Kew Gardens and the "leaning tomb" in Hempstead 
Cemetery.

And then we bizarrely cut to Molly drinking coffee in the break 
room at St. Bart's, saying it's just the spare bedroom. Or 
rather, it's HER bedroom because they agreed that he needed the 
space. Is there a reason this little cutaway was done like it 
was a joke on "The Office"?

At 221b, Mrs. Hudson says "behind the clockface of Big Ben". 
John, pen and pad poised in his hand, says he was probably 
kidding about that one. She really doubts that. 

Anderson tells Mary that actually his first hiding place is 
probably Leinster Gardens because nobody else knows about that 
one. One of his groupies beside him says Anderson only knows 
about it himself because he was stalking him that one night. 
Sorry. Following him.

At 221b again, John is talking to Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson when 
he realizes that based on where the wound was, Sherlock must 
have seen who shot him. Yeah. Keep working on that. You'll get 
there eventually. Lestrade concludes that maybe he's not 
telling them because he's tracking the shooter down himself. 
"Or protecting them," John says. Lestrade scoffs and asks why 
the HELL he would do that. John says he has no idea, he was 
just spitballing there. But maybe he's protecting SOMEONE, 
although he's Sherlock so who could he possibly care enough 
about to want to protect?
   Chrissy: Um...literally all the people in the room right 
    now.
   Diandra: Oh, it is the three, isn't it?
John flops into his chair as he's thinking and then looks down, 
surprised. Lestrade leaves with instructions for John to call 
him if he hears anything. John says yeah, um...sure...and 
continues to stare at the arm of the chair while Lestrade 
leaves. "Mrs. Hudson, Why does Sherlock think I'll be moving 
back in here?" Mrs. Hudson realizes why he's asking: his chair 
is back in its spot. She babbles that it looks so much better 
that way as John stares at the small table beside him where a 
half-empty bottle of Clair de Lune is perched. His phone buzzes 
over on the table and Mrs. Hudson fetches it, looking at the 
screen and announcing that it's Sherlock before trying to hand 
it to him. He's still staring at the perfume bottle as the 
scene fades out so we don't know if he actually answered.

At the corner of Leinster Terrace and Leinster Gardens (we're 
opening on the street sign), Mary walks past a bum crouched 
near an ornate wall/fence/thing. He begs for money and, when 
she tries to barrel on, begs her to not be "like all the rest". 
She hesitates and goes to give him change. He grabs her wrist 
and looks up so we can see it's Bill. "Rule one of looking for 
Sherlock Holmes: he finds you," he says, pressing a phone into 
her hand. The phone rings and she plugs an earpiece into it 
before answering "where are you?" Sherlock's voice is surprised 
she can't see him. She asks what she's looking for, exactly. He 
rambles about the "lie of Leinster Gardens" which is "hidden in 
plain sight". He says most people don't see it, but if she is 
who he thinks she is, she will. He gives her a hint: look at 
the houses. Mary, not exactly in the mood for this bullshit, 
asks how he knew she'd come here. He says he knew she'd talk to 
the people nobody else would bother with. She snorts that she 
thought she was being clever. He says she was, which is what he 
was counting on. She stops in front of one of the houses, 
apparently noticing something off, and asks what she's looking 
at. He points out the lack of doorknobs, mailboxes and the 
blacked out windows. They're vacant. In fact, they were 
eliminated entirely to make room for the Underground. The 
camera pans up over the "house" to show that there is nothing 
behind the facade but a massive drop down to the alley where 
the trains are running. He asks if the false exterior reminds 
her of anyone.
   Diandra: Look, I know you're still bitter that I stole 
    him from you, but you were dead, so...
   Diandra: So you figured you'd just swan right in and 
    take over where I left off? YOU COULD NEVER LOVE HIM AS 
    MUCH AS I DO!
   Chrissy: Okay, we might need to reevaluate the multiple 
    personalities thing, because that was creepy.

A picture of her projects on the front of the fake building and 
Sherlock apologizes for his inability to resist being dramatic. 
   Chrissy: And yet you get offended when people call you a 
   drama queen.
He invites her in. She asks if he owns the place or something. 
He hums and says he won it in a card game "with the Clarence 
House cannibal" that nearly cost him his kidneys. 
   Chrissy: He kept saying they would go well with fava 
    beans and Chianti.
   Diandra: You might know his brother as the pervert you 
    were getting ready to shoot when I interrupted.
No, apparently the "cannibal" was a woman.
   Chrissy: Well...pre-op.

Mary steps "inside" to find a long, dark hallway with a shadowy 
person at the end of it. In her ear, Sherlock declares that 
Mary Morstan was a stillborn baby in 1972. Whoever this woman 
is, she stole the dead baby's identity five years ago. Which is 
why she didn't have many people on her side of the aisle at the 
wedding. He says the "I'm an orphan" excuse is common for 
people like her. He reminds her and the audience that she was 
able to recognize a skip code in the first episode and remember 
a room number Sherlock "deleted" in the second. She says yeah, 
well...he was pretty slow to put it all together, wasn't he? He 
asks how good a shot she is. She pulls out a pistol and cocks 
it, asking how badly he wants to know. He points out that it 
would be spectacularly stupid of her to kill him in a building 
that has her face projected on the front of it. "Even Scotland 
Yard could get somewhere with that." He says he just wants her 
to prove how good she is. She shrugs, pulls out a coin and 
flips it in the air, shooting a hole in it. And then Sherlock 
steps into the hall behind her. She squints at the end of the 
hall and laughs that he tricked her with a dummy, which, in 
hindsight, is pretty obvious. She kicks the coin to him and he 
struggles a bit to pick it up, grunting as he points out that 
she failed to make a kill shot standing six feet from him. 
Which, as General Shan pointed out a few episodes ago, implies 
that she wasn't trying to kill him. 

He announces that he'll take her case and asks why she didn't 
just come to him in the first place. "Because John can't ever 
know that I lied to him," she says. "It would break him and I 
would lose him forever." She insists she would do anything to 
prevent that scenario. Sherlock says yeah, well...sorry. He 
flips on the hall light to reveal that the "dummy" is actually 
John wearing a similar coat and with his hair ruffled. Sherlock 
suggests this might be a good time for them to talk about this. 
   Diandra: Yeah, thanks. You just wanted us to fight so 
    you could have him back when he leaves me because I'm a 
    lying murderer.
   Chrissy: I'm just going to cut in here so it doesn't 
    look like you're arguing with yourself again.
   Diandra: He was only with you because he thought I was 
    dead. Tell me: how does it feel to be sloppy seconds? 
   Chrissy: Yep. Just interjecting.
   Diandra: Oh, please. You didn't even have sex with him. 
    You just made goo goo eyes at him and treated him like 
    the gullible lapdog that he is.
   Chrissy: Hey!
   Diandra: HE LOVES ME! He said so himself!
   Chrissy: Okay, that's enough, girls.
   Diandra: I hate you.
   Chrissy: I...have no idea who you're talking to anymore.
   Diandra: Honestly, I'm not even sure who *I* am right 
    now. Let's just move on before I have an aneurism or 
    something.

And now we just jump ahead to Christmas, as indicated by the 
radio playing carols in the background. Sherlock/Benedict's dad 
emerges from a blazing red house to gather some wood from a 
pile outside the door. In the kitchen, Mycroft moans that it's 
only two o clock and "it's been Christmas Day for at least a 
week now." Mum ignores him, pointing at the laptop sitting on 
her kitchen table and asking "Mikey" if it's his. Mycroft says 
yes, mother, and the security of the free world depends on it, 
so thank you for getting potatoes all over it. She snaps that 
he shouldn't just leave it LYING AROUND then if it's so bloody 
important. Mycroft asks why they're doing this anyway. They 
never get together for Christmas. Mum looks at Sherlock sitting 
over in the corner pretending not to be there and says they are 
DOING it this year because Sherlock is finally home from the 
hospital and they are HAPPY about that. Mycroft is like 'oh, 
are we?' "Am I happy too? I haven't checked." She refrains from 
boxing his ears, possibly proving what Mofftiss once said about 
the Holmes boys being the way they are because they were 
overindulged, and begs him to behave. She calls him Mike, 
which...did Sherlock tell Janine to do that because he knew it 
annoys him or did she pick it up from mum?
   Chrissy: Or she just did it instinctively because of 
    course people would try to come up with a nickname for 
    him so they don't have to say "Mycroft" every time.
   Diandra: I thought that was an American thing born out 
    of over familiarity and laziness.
Mycroft reminds her that she GAVE him the name "Mycroft" so she 
should be able to "struggle all the way to the end of it". 
   Chrissy: I mean, Jesus, who gives their kids some long, 
    old fashioned funny name anyway? Did you secretly hate 
    us or something?
   Diandra: Ahem.

Bill interrupts this little spat by handing Mrs. Holmes a 
drink.
   Chrissy: I know I haven't adopted you yet, but you're my 
   favorite child.
Mrs. Holmes accepts it, but notes what probably everybody is 
thinking: she has no fucking clue what he's doing here. 
Sherlock finally pipes up, not tearing his eyes from the paper 
in his lap, that he invited him. Bill proudly declares himself 
Sherlock's protege. "When he dies, I get all his stuff and his 
job." Sherlock, still not looking up, says no, he doesn't. Bill 
says fine. He helps out. Sherlock says he's getting warmer. 
Bill grumbles yeah, well, if he does get murdered... Sherlock 
tells him to shut up. "Lovely when you bring your friends 
around," Mycroft snarks. Mum tells him to knock it off and adds 
that somebody put a bullet in her baby and if she ever finds 
out who it was she will END THEM. Then she realizes that 
something she's holding was supposed to be for Mary and bustles 
out of the room to go give it to her.
   Chrissy: Ah, there's that slap of irony to the face.
A countdown of seven minutes and thirty-six seconds flashes on 
the screen.

In the living room, Mary is sitting on a sofa with a book in 
her hands when Dad comes in with the logs he was getting and 
shoves them into the fireplace.  Mum comes in and hands her the 
cup of tea she was apparently talking about and warns her that 
if "Father" starts making humming noises she should feel free 
to poke him until he stops.
   Chrissy: Unless, of course, you can find a rolled up 
    newspaper around here. 
   Diandra: Or a spray bottle. 
   Chrissy: Seriously though, this is the benefit of all 
    the nepotism: they don't even need scripts.
   Diandra: By the way, Dad is wearing a bowtie because 
    supposedly it embarrasses Benedict, but it had the 
    added effect of making a bunch of fans assume it was a 
    "Doctor Who" thing and Holmes Sr. was just eagerly 
    awaiting the Christmas special.
   Chrissy: Oh, they're always looking for ways to shoehorn 
    in a crossover.
   Diandra: Yeah. Remind me to show you the one about 
    Holmes Sr. being a Time Lord.

Mary holds up the book she was flipping through about 
combustion dynamics and notes that the author is M.L. Holmes, 
which is her, isn't it? She scoffs that Mary is actually 
attempting to read "that silly old thing". She leaves, but not 
before reminding Dad one more time not to hum and swatting him 
on the butt. 
   Chrissy: They are having way too much fun with this. 
   Diandra: Clearly.
Dad barely waits until she's out of the room to tell Mary that 
his wife is a "complete flake", but she also happens to be a 
genius. She gave up mathematics when she had the kids. "I could 
never bear to argue with her. I'm something of a moron myself. 
But she's...unbelievably hot." Mary laughs and says HE'S the 
"sane" one, isn't he? Dad quirks an eyebrow at her and says 
"aren't you?"
   Chrissy: Um...no. Clearly that would be John. I'll let 
   you figure out which one of you is the crazy, hot 
   genius.

John interrupts just then and Mary buries her face back in Mrs. 
Holmes' book. Dad looks back and forth and offers to give them 
a moment while he goes to...help...with something. He rushes 
out the door, closing it behind him. Sherlock is standing out 
in the hallway and he asks him if they're all right. Sherlock 
mumbles something about them having ups and downs and skitters 
away.

And we're back in the fake building. Because this season is all 
about jumping back and forth in time at weird moments, 
apparently. Sherlock orders them to come with him to Baker 
Street and walks away. John follows him, brushing past Mary 
angrily and apparently charging right past Sherlock all the way 
home because he's the first one in the door at 221b. He tosses 
his coat on a chair and waits while Mary slinks in, followed 
immediately by a woozy looking Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson is in the 
kitchen and greets them all in turn, noting that Sherlock looks 
terrible. He's like yeah, hello to you too. Get me some 
morphine. She protests that she doesn't have morphine. 
Just...you know...marijuana. "Then what exactly is the point of 
you," Sherlock snaps. Mrs. Hudson just huffs and turns to John 
to ask what is going on here. Sherlock says the Watsons are 
about to have a "domestic" and he's kind of hoping they get it 
over with quickly so they can get back to work. John says hold 
on, he has a question. He turns to Mary and asks if everyone he 
has ever met is a psychopath. From behind him, Sherlock says 
yes. Yes, we are. Moving on... 

John whirls on him and screams "SHUT UP" before ranting about 
how this isn't FUNNY and what the hell did he do to deserve 
this? He turns to Mary with this last question and Sherlock 
answers again. "Everything." John starts stomping toward him, 
repeating that he TOLD him to shut up and if he insists on 
saying ONE MORE WORD he "won't need morphine". Sherlock says 
no, really. He was a doctor and a soldier. He couldn't stay out 
in his safe little suburban neighborhood more than a month 
without storming into a crack den armed only with a tire iron 
and a massive set of cojones. "Your best friend is a sociopath 
who solves crimes as an alternative to getting high. That's me, 
by the way, hello."
   Chrissy: Didn't he just basically call himself a 
   psychopath? I'm starting to think even he doesn't know 
   which one of those things he is.
Sherlock adds that even their landlady used to run a drug 
cartel. Mrs. Hudson protests that it was her HUSBAND'S cartel. 
She was just his secretary. Sherlock tosses in the exotic 
dancer history for no particular reason and she mutters 
something about him YouTubing her. Sherlock is like WHATEVER, 
the POINT is that John is just as much an addict as he is. He's 
attracted to danger and dangerous people. So he really 
shouldn't be surprised that his wife falls in line with the 
pattern. John, voice starting to warble, says she wasn't 
SUPPOSED to be like that. Why her? "Because you chose her," 
Sherlock says.

John kicks over the table beside Sherlock chair, ranting about 
how everything is always somehow his fault. Mrs. Hudson 
scampers away, moaning about the neighbors. Sherlock tries to 
calm John and get him to focus. "What is she?" "My lying wife," 
John grumbles. Sherlock says no, try again. "The woman who's 
carrying my child who has lied to me since the day I met her?" 
Sherlock says no, right here and now. John says fine, they'll 
do it his way because they ALWAYS do things his way. John sets 
a chair between his and Sherlock's chairs and snaps at Mary to 
sit there because that's where clients always sit and that's 
"all" she is right now. So she should sit there and they will 
listen and decide if they want to take the case. Except he 
words it "decide if we want you or not", which is telling. He 
flops in his chair and Sherlock slumps into his without taking 
his coat off. Mary goes to sit in the client chair and they 
stare at each other awkwardly.

Back to the future. John asks if Mary is okay. She looks up 
from Mrs. Holmes' book and snarks "oh, are we doing 
conversation today? It really is Christmas." He takes out a 
flash drive with A.G.R.A. scribbled on it in marker. She says 
seriously? After months of not talking, he wants to discuss 
this?

We snap back to 221b where Mary slaps the drive down on John's 
table. Sherlock asks what the letters mean. Mary says it's her 
initials. The drive contains all the details about who she was 
and if John still loves her he will wait and not look at it in 
front of her because there's no way he will still love her 
after. John grunts and shoves it in his pocket. Mary asks how 
much Sherlock knows already. Sherlock says she obviously was or 
is with intelligence. He suspects her accent is misleading and 
she's not really British. She's running and she used her 
resources and skills as a spy to hide. Which is why she was 
planning to kill Magnusson: he knows the truth. She probably 
befriended Janine just so she could get close to him. Mary 
rightly points out that that's EXACTLY THE SAME FUCKING THING 
HE DID TO HER and Sherlock just smirks. John groans and says 
they should have married each other because they're PERFECT for 
each other.
   Chrissy: Oh, here we go again.
   Diandra: No, I was just going to say that now you see 
    why it made sense for me to play both of them.
   Chrissy: I worry about you sometimes.
   Diandra: Only sometimes?

Sherlock gives John a sideways look like "you married a woman 
who is like a darker version of me and that's your takeaway 
message?"
   Chrissy: What, you think I should have married YOU? 
    Don't be ridiculous.
   Diandra: Yes, thank you, John. Now, if you'll excuse me, 
    I have to go have a little cry about something totally 
    unrelated.
Mary says that she could go to prison for the rest of her life 
over the information Magnusson has on her. John says so, what, 
her solution was just to murder him? Mary points out that he's 
fucking evil and people like him are the reason people like her 
exist. John says oh, so she was an assassin then. "How could I 
not see that." She says he did. And he married her anyway. They 
literally just went over this if he'd been paying attention. 
She adds that Sherlock was totally right, by the way, John has 
a type and they both fit it. Sherlock, who is looking 
increasingly distressed, concludes that she wants any 
information Magnusson has on her. Mary says yeah, but why would 
he help her? Sherlock says because she saved his life. He runs 
through the scene where he burst in on her preparing to shoot 
Magnusson again, only this time she shoots them both in the 
head. He says that would have been the easy solution for an 
assassin suddenly confronted with a witness. Instead, she 
incapacitated him. And then she couldn't shoot Magnusson 
because she knew that John would become a suspect once it was 
discovered they had broken into the building. So she just 
knocked him out and bet that he would rather use the 
information as blackmail than tell the police about her, 
which...of course he would. 

John asks how she saved his life then. Sherlock says she called 
the ambulance. John says HE called the ambulance. Sherlock says 
yeah, well, she did it first, which is why it arrived so 
quickly. John didn't find him for another five minutes. If he'd 
had to wait that long he would have died because the average 
time it takes for an ambulance in London is... He looks at his 
watch as paramedics run in the door and announces "eight 
minutes. Did you bring any morphine?" The paramedic says they 
were told there was a shooting. Sherlock says yes, there was. 
Last week. But he's pretty sure he's bleeding internally right 
now and they may need to restart his heart again. He goes to 
stand and nearly falls over. John and Mary catch him. Sherlock 
grabs John by the arms and tells him that Magnusson is "all 
that matters" right now and he can trust Mary. Because she 
saved him. John is like yeah...after shooting you. Sherlock 
says yeah, well, mixed messages. Then he yelps and the 
paramedics catch him as he falls to the floor. John and Mary 
look at each other as the paramedics work on him.

Back to the most awkward Christmas ever, apparently. Mary asks 
if John read what's on the drive. He asks her to stand up. She 
heaves her now heavily pregnant body up and goes to stand in 
front of him, not quite looking him in the eye. He says he's 
thought a lot about what he wants to say to her, so what he's 
about to say is basically a prepared speech. "The problems of 
your past are your business. The problems of your future are my 
privilege." He says he doesn't need to know anything else, 
which is why he didn't read what's on the drive. He throws it 
into the fireplace. She cries and sniffles and points out that 
he doesn't even know her real name. He says if Mary Watson is 
good enough for her, then it's good enough for him too. They 
hug and he mutters in her ear that this doesn't mean he isn't 
still ROYALLY pissed off at her, which he might let slip every 
now and then.
   Chrissy: Not that you'll notice as I've basically spent 
    the past several years being pissed at the people I 
    love.
   Diandra: Aww. I love you too.
   Chrissy: You really do think the world revolves around 
    you, don't you? How do you know I didn't mean my 
    drunken sister?
   Diandra: Because you didn't.
   Chrissy: I hate you.
   Diandra: Like I said, I love you too.

They have a little negotiation about what Mary can do to make 
up for lying about her history as an assassin and shooting his 
best friend and I can't believe I actually typed that sentence. 
He suggests she mow the lawn from now on. She points out the 
ridiculousness of this as HE doesn't do that NOW. He says fine, 
he gets to name the baby then. She says not a chance in hell. 
He says okay and hugs her again.
   Chrissy: Well. I'm glad we worked that out.
   Diandra: I'm glad you think that's what we were doing 
    there.
   Chrissy: What does that mean?
   Diandra: Nothing, dummy. I mean, honey.

Meanwhile, Sherlock and Mycroft have stepped outside for a 
smoke break. Mycroft notes that Sherlock has thankfully given 
up the whole Magnusson thing. But he's still wondering about it 
because it's not his usual sort of puzzle. "Why do you hate 
him?" This is where the deleted scene might have started 
skewing things. Because as I recall, the hatred of Milverton 
was never based on anything personal but Sherlock did genuinely 
despise him for reasons that probably boil down to this: 
"because he attacks people who are different and preys on their 
secrets." He asks why Mycroft WOULDN'T hate someone like that. 
Mycroft shrugs that he's never done any significant damage to 
anyone important. He's like a mosquito buzzing around your head 
all night without landing and actually drawing blood. And he's 
a businessman who is occasionally useful to them. 
   Chrissy: Can we reevaluate the Murdoch thing? Because I 
    can think of a better example.
   Diandra: Not if it's Trump.
   Chrissy: ......never mind. Continue.

Bottom line: he's a "necessary evil. Not a dragon for you to 
slay." Sherlock smirks and asks if that's what Mycroft thinks 
of him as: a dragon slayer. 
   Chrissy: No, I'm fairly certain you'd be the dragon, 
    actually, but John has his own shit to deal with right 
    now.
   Diandra: And there it is.
Mycroft says no, that's what Sherlock sees HIMSELF as. Because 
it's a step above the pirate he used to aspire to being. 

Mum sticks her head out like 'you two idiots aren't SMOKING out 
here, are you?' They whirl around, holding their cigarettes 
behind their back and recite lines she's probably heard many 
times before. 
   Mycroft: No!
   Sherlock: It was Mycroft!
She gives them a dirty look and goes back inside. 
   Chrissy: Oy. The flashbacks.
   Diandra: For you or Wanda?
   Chrissy: Probably.
   Diandra: By the way, that reminds me of another little 
    anecdote, this one from Benedict at Comic Con. 
    Something about watching his mother scramble for the 
    right name every time she turned to him like "uh... 
    Sherlock? Instead of Ben or Tim or Sophie or all of the 
    other names I get called before I get called Benedict." 
    I'm just bringing that up because I love the suggestion 
    that when she's trying to come up with whatever name 
    her son is going by now she comes up with his WIFE'S 
    name first.
   Chrissy: That sounds like something my grandmother would 
    do, actually.
   Diandra: Yes, because she liked your dad more than your 
    mom, even though she's her daughter.
   Chrissy: Everybody likes my dad more than my mom.
   Diandra: Yeah. He's awesome. What were we talking about?
   Chrissy: I don't know. Something about why your recaps 
    are always so goddamn long?

Sherlock blows a stream of smoke. Mycroft says he has a job 
offer for Sherlock that he would prefer he decline. Sherlock 
says okay, done. But what was it? Mycroft says MI6 wants him 
back in Eastern Europe for an undercover assignment that would 
surely kill him within six months. Sherlock frowns and asks why 
the hell he doesn't want him to take it then. 
   Chrissy: Um...because you're my brother and I love you 
    even though I delight in your suffering?
   Diandra: Also, mum would kill me. 
Mycroft says tempting as that may be, he needs his annoying 
little brother on the home front more because "here be 
dragons".

Mycroft coughs a little and snuffs his cigarette on the 
walkway, grumbling that it doesn't agree with him. Sherlock 
says he needs "low tar" and he still smokes "like a beginner". 
Mycroft, already headed inside, hesitates for a moment and, 
without turning around, adds that "also, your loss would break 
my heart." Sherlock makes a big production of choking on his 
lungful of smoke before asking what the hell he's supposed to 
say to that. Mycroft turns around and shrugs, offering "Merry 
Christmas?" 
   Chrissy: And the theme for this episode is "I hate you, 
    I love you, I hate you."
   Diandra: PS, I love you.
Mycroft suggests maybe there was something in the punch. 
Sherlock says yes, obviously. "Go and have some more."

Mary and John are still hugging. Mary points out that of course 
Sherlock dragged them out here to meet his parents for a 
reason. John says yeah. They're lovely aren't they? Such a 
great example of a solid marriage. Before Mary can laugh and 
say something like 'no, he was hoping he could get away with 
talking to them less if there was a buffer', she starts moaning 
and touching her forehead like she's getting a headache. She 
slumps in John's arms suddenly, unconscious, and he lets her 
down into the chair. He barely has time to try to wake her 
again when Sherlock sticks his head in and instructs him to not 
drink her tea. He goes into the next room where his dad is 
passed out on a sofa and adds "or the punch" as he checks to 
make sure dad's still breathing. 

John chases after him, catching up in the kitchen where mum and 
Mycroft are also unconscious. Sherlock checks mum's breathing 
and pointedly ignores Mycroft. John demands to know if Sherlock 
just drugged his pregnant wife. Yes, John. Clearly he drugged 
EVERYBODY but you for some reason. Maybe it would save some 
time if you didn't ask for clarification on the bloody obvious 
and skipped right to WHY. Sherlock assures John that Bill is an 
excellent chemist and she'll be fine. Bill, who is still 
hovering, promises that he calculated the dosage carefully and 
the baby won't be harmed. Sherlock adds that he will monitor 
everybody's recovery, which is more or less what he usually 
does. John, seemingly barely restraining himself from punching 
Sherlock...
   Chrissy: He always looks like that.
...asks what the hell he's done. Sherlock stares into space and 
says he made a deal with the devil. 

Possible flashback. The timelines on this episode aren't 
exactly clear. Sherlock is sitting at a table with a half 
finished plate of food in front of him. He's wearing a hospital 
gown and has an IV stand next to him. Magnusson comes in and 
asks if he's supposed to be in the hospital right now. Sherlock 
says he is. This is the cafeteria. The camera pans out to show 
the small restaurant surrounding them as Magnusson says really? 
Sherlock says yes, he thinks so and invites Magnusson to sit at 
the table with him. "I've been thinking about you," he says. 
"I've been thinking about you too," Magnusson says as he sits. 
   Chrissy: So it was good for you too then, darling?
   Diandra: [gagging noises] 

Sherlock grumbles and turns up the dial on his morphine drip 
before saying he wants to get into Appledore to see all the 
files Magnusson keeps on everybody and he wants Magnusson to 
invite him in. Magnusson asks why the fuck he would do 
something so careless. Sherlock cryptically declares Magnusson 
to be more "careless" than he lets on. Magnusson leans on the 
table and says 'oh...really?' They stare at each other for a 
beat and Sherlock says his "dead-eyed stare" gives him away, 
except it isn't dead eyed, is it? He reaches over and removes 
Magnusson's glasses, asking how they work. He puts them on and 
his face falls as he realizes that they're just regular 
glasses. We switch to Magnusson's perspective while Sherlock 
takes the glasses off and stares at them dejectedly. A line 
about adding morphine to Magnusson's list of pressure points 
scrolls across the bottom of the screen like maybe he stole 
Torchwood's spy contact lenses. 

He plucks an olive from Sherlock's plate, flicking several 
fries out of the way to get to it, and pops it in his mouth. 
Then he dips his fingers in Sherlock's water glass to rinse 
them off and snatches the glasses back. Sherlock slowly lowers 
his hands and, without looking up at him, says "impress me 
then. Show me Appledore." Magnusson says he'll do anything for 
a price and asks what Sherlock is offering.
   Chrissy: Well, we all know what you'd LIKE him to offer. 
    Though I doubt you're suddenly willing to wait for an 
    invitation. I mean, you're a powerful guy. It's not 
    like you have to worry about a silly thing like 
    CONSENT.
   Diandra: Oh, god, here it comes.
   Chrissy: When you have that kind of power, you don't 
    even need to ask.
   Diandra: Please don't do this.
   Chrissy: You can just GRAB THEM BY THE [WHACK] Ow! I 
    deserved that.
   Diandra: Damn right you did.

Sherlock offers a "Christmas present". Magnusson smirks and 
asks what Sherlock is planning on giving him for Christmas 
then. Sherlock smiles and says cheerfully "my brother".
   Chrissy: He literally just said something as close to "I 
    love you" as he is probably physically capable of and 
    you hand him over to a psychotic pervert?
   Diandra: Oh, because your family is perfect?

Back at the Holmes' residence, John paces frantically and goes 
back to the room Mary is in before calling "please tell me you 
haven't just gone out of your mind." Just?
   Chrissy: I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt.
   Diandra: Oh. Still, I proposed to a woman to get into an 
    office. This can't be that surprising to you. 
Sherlock slides the laptop from under Mycroft's hand and calls 
back "rather keep you guessing."
   Chrissy: Okay, stop looking for relationship advice in 
    books!
   Diandra: I didn't see you complaining when the book was 
    the Kama Sutra.
A helicopter approaches the house and Sherlock announces that 
their ride is here.

John wanders outside and blinks at the helicopter as it lands. 
Sherlock asks if he's coming. John asks where the hell they're 
going. Oh, since when do you ask that question first? Sherlock 
asks if he wants Mary to be safe. Because this will be 
"incredibly dangerous" and "one false move and we'll have 
betrayed the security of the United Kingdom and be imprisoned 
for high treason." Magnusson is the most dangerous man they've 
ever dealt with and the odds are not all in their favor. "But 
it's Christmas," John splutters. Sherlock grins and turns 
toward him, chortling that he feels the same way...his face 
falls and without pausing he says oh, you meant the actual 
date. My bad. Did you bring your gun? John asks why the HELL he 
would bring a gun to Christmas dinner with Sherlock's parents. 
   Chrissy: Sorry, I never did learn not to ask questions I 
   really don't want the answer to.
Sherlock holds out John's coat and asks if it's in here. John 
snatches it and snaps "YES". "Off we go then," Sherlock says 
and starts for the helicopter. Heh. John follows, still asking 
where they're going, exactly. This time Sherlock answers: 
Appledore.

Magnusson is sitting on a ridiculously large couch overlooking 
an indoor greenhouse, waiting. The helicopter lands on the lawn 
outside and a guard escorts Sherlock and John up to him, using 
an elevator because I guess the stairs are broken. Magnusson, 
swirling a glass of liquor, greets them by saying he would 
offer a drink, but it's a very expensive MacCutcheon 60 whiskey 
and he just doesn't like them THAT much.
   Chrissy: Was that...a "Lost" reference?
   Diandra: Basically.
   Chrissy: Oh my god, you need to let it go.
   Diandra: Never.

Sherlock sits on the couch beside him and looks at the video 
screen he's watching which is playing the same video he was 
watching two episodes ago of Sherlock frantically digging John 
out of the bonfire. He says oh, so that was you then. Magnusson 
coolly says of course it was and notes that it's very hard to 
find a pressure point on him. John glances over at it and does 
a double take, wandering closer, slackjawed while Sherlock and 
Magnusson continue talking like they're discussing the weather. 
If by "weather" you mean the fact that Magnusson knew all along 
that the drug thing was a distraction and it would be far more 
effective to threaten John if he really wanted to force 
Sherlock to do his bidding. He identifies John as Sherlock's 
"damsel in distress". 
   Chrissy: Yeah, well. That goes both ways. More often the 
   other way, in fact.

John whirls on him and growls that Magnusson put him in a 
fucking BONFIRE for leverage? Magnusson shrugs and claims he 
would never have let John actually die. He's not a TOTAL 
psychopath. He had people standing by. Speaking of psychopaths, 
how's your wife? Still pregnant? He goes to turn off the video 
and explains that aside from him, Mycroft is really the most 
powerful man in the country. And his pressure point is his 
former junkie detective brother. And Sherlock's pressure point 
is John and John's pressure point is Mary.
   Chrissy: To catch the dog to catch the cat to catch the 
   bird to catch the fly...GET TO THE POINT.
So basically, he figures if he can control Mary Watson, he can 
control Mycroft. He sits back on the couch and holds a hand out 
to Sherlock. Sherlock gives him the laptop and grumbles that 
this is an EXCHANGE, not a gift. 

He stands up and watches Magnusson run his fingers along the 
laptop suggestively as he says it's password protected and he 
wants any and all information he has on Mary in exchange for 
the password. Magnusson rambles about how she's a BAD one and 
John should see some of the stuff he's seen... John reflexively 
repeats that he doesn't need to. Magnusson is like 'party 
pooper'. Sherlock interrupts to repeat his request to see 
Appledore. Magnusson, drawing it out a bit more, clarifies that 
he wants to see the secret vaults, does he?
   Chrissy: YES, MOFFAT. QUIT FUCKING TEASING.
Sherlock repeats that he wants everything on MARY. Magnusson 
laughs and says he expected something "good". Sherlock starts 
bragging about the contents of the laptop, but Magnusson 
interrupts to point out that it would obviously have a GPS 
locator, which his brother is probably using to find them since 
he's woken up to find the laptop missing. And once his men 
arrive and find Magnusson holding a laptop with top secret 
information they'll have just cause to search the vaults and 
find enough information to put him in prison. "And you will be 
exonerated. Restored to your smelly little apartment to solve 
crimes with Mr. and Mrs. Psychopath." John just clenches his 
jaw repeatedly. Magnusson says Mycroft should be very proud of 
his baby brother because he's been dreaming of this opportunity 
for a long time. Sherlock frowns and says the fact that he 
KNOWS it's going to happen isn't going to STOP it from 
happening.
   Chrissy: No, but I plan to claim this whole thing was 
    rigged.
   Diandra: [raises hand to slap Chrissy]
   Chrissy: Sorry! Sorry. That was the last one, I promise.
Magnusson says oh? "Then why am I smiling? Ask me." Sherlock 
doesn't take the bait, but John does. As is his nature. And 
Magnusson says Sherlock has made one very big mistake "which 
will destroy the lives of everyone he loves and everything he 
holds dear."

Magnusson finally offers to show them the Appledore vaults and 
walks over to the big double doors we've seen him go through a 
couple times. John and Sherlock follow warily. He declares it 
the entrance to the vaults where he "keeps" them all. He throws 
open the doors to reveal a tiny, very brightly lit white room 
with a chair.
   Chrissy: Yep. I'm keeping both of you in a closet. 
    Because I am Stephen Moffat and I eat fangirl hearts 
    for breakfast.
   Diandra: Eh, give him a break. He's probably still 
    living in fear that somebody will put the words "wibbly 
    wobbly timey whimey" on his tombstone.

Magnusson sits in the chair as he explains that there aren't 
any vaults BENEATH the building. Everything is right here. In 
HIS mind palace. And apparently the text that seemed to be 
scrolling across the bottom of his glasses was just his version 
of Sherlockvision. He demonstrates by closing his eyes and 
going into those stacks we saw him in earlier, miming pulling 
up the file on Mary and flipping through it, rambling about all 
the wet work she did for the CIA and the freelance work she 
does now. He chortles, declares her SO "wicked" and says he can 
see what John sees in her.
   Chrissy: Yeah. Sherlock with a vagina.
   Diandra: Yeah, basically. Which apparently makes it much 
    more acceptable to some people (see also: Hooper, 
    Molly, the female Watson).
   Chrissy: Is there a Mary/Molly ship yet? Because if 
    there isn't, I think you may have just made a 
    compelling argument that there should be.

Magnusson opens his eyes again and makes a gesture like "tada!" 
John clears his throat and says so basically he doesn't have 
any actual documents anywhere. Magnusson says sometimes he 
sends out for physical data if he really needs it, but... "I 
don't understand," John says. "You should have that on a T-
shirt," Magnusson deadpans. John is like ha, fuck you. But if 
it's all in your head that means there's no physical PROOF. 
Magnusson scoffs that he doesn't NEED proof. "I'm in news, you 
moron. I don't have to prove it, I just have to print it."
   Chrissy: And there it is. All of the modern Western 
   world's problems in a nutshell.

He adds that speaking of news, they will both feature very 
heavily on it tomorrow for trying to sell him state secrets. He 
looks at his watch and says "they" should be here shortly and 
they should go outside to greet them. "Can't wait to see you 
arrested." John leans over to Sherlock as Magnusson walks away 
and hisses that they have a plan here, right? 
   Chrissy: I mean other than the one that involves me 
    making you my bitch because you are WAY too pretty for 
    prison. 
   Diandra: Oh, is that the excuse you're going to use?
Sherlock just stares blankly at the chair Magnusson vacated. 
John grumbles and walks away, following Magnusson all the way 
out to a patio and saying "I still don't understand." Magnusson 
mutters that that would be the BACK of the T-shirt.

As Sherlock finally trails out after them, Magnusson talks 
about how much he loves John's "little soldier face" and how 
very much he would like to punch him. He asks John to come 
closer. John looks at him and looks back at Sherlock like 
'seriously?' Magnusson emphasizes that he should do it "for 
Mary". John grudgingly steps closer to him and, on instruction, 
bends over and sticks his face out. Magnusson bends over so 
they're the same height and asks if he can just flick his face. 
He starts steadily flicking John's cheek with his middle 
finger, chortling that he could do this all day. They both 
glance at Sherlock, who is looking at the ground uncomfortably. 
Magnusson, probably assuming that John is too slow to have 
picked up on this much at least, outlines the whole thing: he 
knows all the dirty details about Mary and where to find the 
people who would want her dead. He could make a few calls and 
ruin John's life right now unless he stands there and lets 
Magnusson continue to flick his face like a playground bully. 
He's flicking the entire time he's talking and John is looking 
increasingly murderous. "This is what I do to people. This is 
what I do to whole countries." Then he starts flicking near 
John's eye, taunting him to try to keep it open. 

"Sherlock," John calls, like he's expecting Sherlock to stop 
this deranged manchild. Sherlock apologizes and says John just 
has to let him do it.
   Chrissy: And what if he gets bored of this and decides 
    to see what else he can do to us or make us do to each 
    other?
   Diandra: Oh, you've read those fics too?
   Chrissy: No, I just assume they exist because fanfic 
    writers love their "fuck or die" trope. I'm surprised 
    you haven't written one yet.
   Diandra: Um...
   Chrissy: Oh, god, which one?
   Diandra: The Empath one. And I'm not sure it technically 
    counts because John doesn't go along with it and ends 
    up knocked out while the guard cuts out Sherlock's 
    tongue.
   Chrissy: ......holy fuck, you're serious.
   Diandra: Like I said, if you think the rape one is 
    bad...
   Chrissy: What is WRONG with you?
   Diandra: You want the short list?

Magnusson giggles at John attempting to keep his eye open while 
he flicks at it and admits that it's difficult but "Janine 
managed it once. She makes the funniest noises."
   Chrissy: I...I don't even know where to begin unpacking 
   that potentially deeply disturbing suggestion. 

And that's when a helicopter shows up and hovers menacingly 
over the courtyard, Mycroft's voice booming through a speaker 
to order John and Sherlock to step away from Magnusson. 
Sherlock, stepping closer to John and shouting to be heard over 
the rotors, says so...just to clarify...the "vaults" are 
entirely within his head? Magnusson says yep, they never 
existed anywhere else. No physical copies whatsoever. Mycroft 
repeats his order for Sherlock and John to step back. Magnusson 
waves and shouts that it's okay because they're "harmless". 
Well...mostly. 

The guy in the back of the helicopter with a rifle notes that 
the "target" isn't armed. Several other armed men approach the 
patio on the ground. John asks Sherlock again what they should 
do. Sherlock just stares at the ground as Magnusson answers 
that there's nothing TO be done because he's not a villain. 
He's just a businessman and John happens to be one of the 
assets he's acquiring. Sherlock stares at John, who doesn't 
notice, while Magnusson blathers about Sherlock not getting a 
chance to be a hero this time. Mycroft repeats his order again. 
Instead, Sherlock reaches for John's gun and steps closer, 
barking that he should have done his research. "I'm not a hero. 
I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Merry Christmas!" He shoots 
Magnusson in the head, then immediately drops the gun and puts 
his hands up in surrender. 
   Chrissy: MY BROTHER WILL AVENGE ME!
   Diandra: Although it will probably be less than 
    impressive because Marvel kind of sucks at villains. 
    Also, he will ultimately fare about as well.

Sherlock yells at John to stay back. John just yelps and puts 
his own hands up as the men on the ground swoop in and Mycroft 
screams at everybody not to fire. Sherlock tells John to give 
his love to Mary and "tell her she's safe now." He gets on his 
knees and, from Mycroft's perspective, switches from a grown 
man with little red sniper dots trained on him to his younger 
self, crying.
   Chrissy: We didn't tell him what we were going to be 
    doing in this scene. We're treating it as a teachable 
    moment. He knows what he did. - Steven Moffat.
   Diandra: Yeah, actually, here's another quote: "I had 
    that shot on my iPhone for ages. A picture of my son 
    crying! [...] and I thought 'I've got a picture on my 
    iPhone of my son being held at gunpoint by a 
    helicopter! That's not healthy!"
   Chrissy: Healthy? No. Surprising? Also no.
   Diandra: So this is where that deleted scene really 
    makes a difference by the way. It totally fits with 
    Magnusson's character as a handsy creep who does 
    inappropriate things just because he can get away with 
    it, but it also made Sherlock more DIRECTLY a victim of 
    him. Without it, he's just protecting John and Mary 
    (because John chose her).
   Chrissy: Reinforcing the theme that the best way to get 
    to one of them is to threaten the other.
   Diandra: Yep.

Cut to an office building somewhere, where Mycroft is saying 
that one of his colleagues is fond of saying that sometimes the 
country needs a "blunt instrument" (that person probably being 
Judi Dench). And sometimes it needs a scalpel. "There will 
always come a time when we need Sherlock Holmes." 
   Chrissy: Or James Bond, apparently.
   Diandra: He's busy right now deciding whether he's ready 
    to regenerate or not. 
   Chrissy: What, is he Doctor Who now?
   Diandra: It's just The Doctor, pleb. But there are a lot 
    of similarities.

He turns and we see a whole table full of people in the room 
that he is apparently talking to. One guy asks if this is 
"familial sentiment" talking. Mycroft is like yeah because I am 
SO prone to outbursts of sentiment and "brotherly compassion". 
Then he throws this little teaser in: "you know what happened 
to the other one."
   Chrissy: You know, the other brother that might or might 
    not look like the guy from Taylor Swift's next breakup 
    song?
   Diandra: Or the next James Bond. And even if he doesn't, 
    we will relentlessly tease fangirls with the 
    possibility anyway because this has become our favorite 
    past time.
Mycroft shrugs and says anyway, they can't put Sherlock in 
prison because there would be riots on a daily basis. But the 
alternative would require Lady Smallwood's approval. Luckily, 
she is in the room. She says that alternative is "hardly 
merciful". Mycroft says yeah, well... unfortunately, his 
brother is a murderer now, so...

Tarmac. Sherlock, Mycroft and a guy who is probably an armed 
guard wait by an airplane as a car pulls up and John and Mary 
climb out. He greets Mary with "you will look after him for me, 
won't you?" She hugs him and kisses his cheek, muttering 
promises in his ear to "keep him in trouble".
   Diandra: I would ask you to keep him warm for me too, 
   but I'm guessing that goes without saying.

She goes over to stand by John and they kind of stare awkwardly 
for a beat. Sherlock turns to Mycroft and asks if he and John 
can have some privacy since this might be the last conversation 
they have. Mycroft raises an eyebrow at him and nods at the 
guard. They and Mary all move away. 

John steps in front of Sherlock like 'sooooooo....' "William 
Sherlock Scott Holmes," Sherlock blurts. "That's the whole of 
it. If you're looking for baby names." John laughs and says no, 
they're pretty sure the baby is a girl. Sherlock says oh, yeah. 
Okay then. They look around awkwardly for a long pause.
   Chrissy: Jesus, do we really have to go through this 
   again? Why do men insist on being emotionally stunted?
John grumbles that he can't think of anything to say. Sherlock 
says he can't either, which has probably never happened to him 
before. John says the game is over. Sherlock says no, the game 
is never over, but the players sometimes change. "The east wind 
takes us all in the end." John asks where the hell THAT came 
from. Sherlock says it's a story his brother told him when they 
were kids. About this terrifying force that lays waste to 
everything, plucking the "unworthy" from the Earth.
   Chrissy: ...and one day it will come for you. Goodnight! 
    Sweet dreams!
   Diandra: You know...my sister used to pull shit like 
    that when we were little too.
   Chrissy: That explains so much.
Sherlock says yeah...he was a terrible big brother and they 
both sort of chuckle like 'yeah...good times.'

John fidgets some more and looks around awkwardly. He asks what 
Sherlock is doing now. Sherlock says it's just some undercover 
work in Eastern Europe. John asks how long that will take. 
Sherlock says six months according to his brother's estimate. 
Yeah, so it's the job Mycroft wanted him to refuse because it 
would kill him. Sherlock adds that Mycroft is never wrong about 
these things, so... John asks what happens then. Sherlock bites 
his lips, looks like he's trying not to cry and says "who 
knows," vaguely. He stares at John before awkwardly starting 
that there's something he needs to say because he's always 
meant to and they may never meet again so this could be his 
last chance. Beat. He takes a deep breath and says "Sherlock is 
actually a girl's name." John snorts and says no, it isn't and 
they are not naming their daughter after him. Sherlock says it 
was worth a try. 
   Chrissy: Unless, of course, you're trying to tell me 
    that you actually ARE a woman, which...you know...would 
    totally be fine. And not at all surprising.
   Diandra: Is it because of my hair?
   Chrissy: Really? You think that's the only reason?
   Diandra: No, but I might have gotten confused and 
    channeled Benedict by accident just there. Seriously, 
    though, this is sort of giving me an idea for a new 
    story...
   Chrissy: Oh god. I think I understand now how Dr. 
    Frankenstein felt when his monster gained sentience.
   Diandra: Oh, come on. I've been writing fanfiction for 
    nearly twenty years.
   Chrissy: Well. Not consistently.
   Diandra: ...subtle.
   Chrissy: I'm just saying. But seriously, I'm pretty sure 
    the transgender thing has been done before.
   Diandra: I didn't say he would be Trans. Given his age, 
    he would have grown up around the time of that boy from 
    psychology studies on gender who was raised as a girl 
    because the doctor botched his circumcision.
   Chrissy: Oh dear God, that's a thing?
   Diandra: Pretty common at the time for any baby not 
    clearly presenting as male at birth. The thinking was 
    it would be less traumatizing than being a boy without 
    a fully formed penis.
   Chrissy: I still think there might be something wrong 
    with you.
   Diandra: Join the club.

And then he holds his hand out and ends with "to the very best 
of times." John shakes his hand and he climbs into the plane.
   Chrissy: Oh, come on. You've both said you love each 
    other before and MARY just hugged him. There was no 
    reason for that awkward bullshit.
   Diandra: On the other hand...they *have* said it before. 
    Does it really need to be said again with such a note 
    of finality? Obviously JOHN doesn't know about the 
    whole "we who are about to die" thing, so wouldn't that 
    be suspicious?
   Chrissy: Ugh. Fine.

John and Mary watch, holding hands, as the plane takes off. The 
screen fades to black and the end credit music starts. And 
that's the end of the series forever. Sherlock dies on the 
mission. John, despite his objections, winds up naming his 
daughter Shirley in his honor and brings her to visit Uncle 
Sherlock's grave every year. His final blog post expressed his 
regret over not having said he loved Sherlock one last time. 
But he knew. He KNEW.

Yeah. Not.

Actually, after a second of that little mislead we jump to a 
soccer game, which Lestrade is watching on a TV screen at a 
pub. The image goes to static and somebody loudly complains 
that there's something wrong with the television. The camera 
focuses on Lestrade's face as a distorted voice repeats "did 
you miss me?" over and over.

In 221b, Mrs. Hudson looks up from her vacuuming at the running 
TV and screams. 

In that office Mycroft was in earlier, Lady Smallwood demands 
to know how this is even possible. A guy admits they don't 
know, but it's on every screen in the country as far as they 
can tell. She asks if they've told the Prime Minister. And 
Mycroft.

In the car, Mycroft is on the phone, declaring this "not 
possible". He gets out and John, still standing nearby, asks 
what happened.

On the plane, an attendant hands a teary-eyed Sherlock a phone, 
saying it's his brother. "How's the exile going," Mycroft 
teases.
   Chrissy: Okay, so revisiting that scene last episode 
    where we were noting that it sounded like Mycroft was 
    actually ENJOYING his little brother's suffering? Yeah. 
   Diandra: Well...but...yeah, I have no excuse for it.
Sherlock glowers and says he's only been gone four minutes. 
Mycroft says he hopes it was enough to teach Sherlock a lesson 
because they need him again. Sherlock grumbles that Mycroft 
should really learn to MAKE UP HIS GODDAMN MIND and asks who 
needs him now. Mycroft looks at the screen in the car playing 
the same message everyone is seeing across the country of 
Moriarty's face with the words "did you miss me" across the 
bottom of the screen and says "England". 

Outside, Mary is like 'but...he's dead.' John says yes, he blew 
his brains out. So, you know...definitely dead. Please stop 
asking us to confirm this. Mary asks how he could possibly be 
"back" then. John watches the plane touch down again and - 
somehow keeping a straight face - says if he is, he'd better 
have a nice warm coat because "there's an East wind coming".

And now we actually go to credits. 
   Chrissy: So basically that was a pretty faithful modern 
    adaptation of the Milverton story except in that one 
    Sherlock and John were hiding behind the drapes while 
    one of Milverton's victims killed him in a rage.
   Diandra: Yeah, I remember Mofftiss pointing out how 
    suspicious that sounds. And it highlights one of the 
    issues with the cannon. The stories were told by John. 
    There are repeated acknowledgements that he is 
    sometimes unable to tell the whole story to protect the 
    parties involved and Sherlock notes that his stories 
    aren't always faithful accounts of what really 
    happened.
   Chrissy: Yeah. And yet somehow he managed to leave a 
    whole lot of hoyay in.
   Diandra: Anyway. Maybe we should take a little break 
    before jumping into the next episode to let the dust 
    from the election settle. That way you don't have to 
    keep bringing it up.
   Chrissy: Yeah sure. Depending on how things go we might 
    need the time to pack and brush up on our French. How 
    long do you suppose it would take you to set up an 
    Internet connection in Canada?
   Diandra: Don't even joke.
   Chrissy: Hey, I figure if we can't laugh at it, we're 
    liable to go insane.
   Diandra: You don't think maybe it's too late for that? 
   Chrissy: Haha. Speaking of which, seeing as the special 
    is probably going to be crazy enough as it is, should 
    we rethink this multiple personality thing going 
    forward?
   Diandra: Nah. Embrace the craziness, I say.
   Chrissy: You would, wouldn't you?
   Diandra: What?
   Chrissy: Nothing.