"Sherlock, episode ?: The Abominable Bride“

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

Guest starring: Yasmine Akram, David Nellist, Catherine 
McCormack, Tim McInnerny and Natasha O'Keeffe 


Previously on Sherlock: Um...a lot of shit happened. 

Previously on America: A lot of other shit happened as 
Americans apparently set out to prove that they really can do 
anything the British do, only bigger and crazier. The less said 
about the current shitty situation and all dashed hopes for the 
future the better.

We actually do get a previously on this episode that covers the 
entire series up to this point. Boy meets boy. They move in 
together and solve crimes as an alternative to Sherlock doing 
hardcore drugs. Bad guy threatens to kill John and vows to 
"burn the heart out of" Sherlock. Lesbian falls in lust with 
Sherlock but generally treats him like a nemesis. There's an 
ill advised thing with a dog, Sherlock "kills himself" and 
comes back two years later to find a very angry John marrying 
an assassin. Then a really powerful creep threatens their 
awkward little triad arrangement and Sherlock shoots him in the 
face. 

The previouslies have featured date stamps at the bottom of the 
screen that more or less match the years the episodes aired. 
Once we catch up to the last scene where the plane Sherlock 
just left on touches back down on the runway the screen goes 
black and the word "alternatively" appears over the 2014 date, 
which starts scrolling backward. It doesn't land on any 
particular date, but disappears somewhere in the 1880s and is 
replaced by a closeup of Martin Freeman's eye. 
   Chrissy: He's laying in the middle of the woods and 
    there's a plane flying overhead...
   Diandra: I thought you didn't like it when I made "Lost" 
    references.
   Chrissy: How do you know I was talking about "Lost" and 
    not "28 Days Later"?
   Diandra: Oh. Um...
   Chrissy: Just kidding. I was totally referring to "Lost" 
    because it always began an episode like this.

We pan out to see that John - or I guess I should start calling 
him Watson - is dressed in a military uniform from the 1800s 
and there is fighting and explosions going on behind him. But 
this time Watson voice overs to explain that he fought in the 
"second Afghan war" and we see him actually get shot in the 
shoulder like Doyle described before he forgot and started 
moving the injury around.

Victorian London. Horses and buggys go up and down the street, 
pedestrians occasionally darting around them and Watson 
explains (as if it needs explaining) that he returned to 
England in poor health with few prospects for the future. He is 
hobbling down the street with a cane when Mike Stamford appears 
and I'm pretty sure greets him with the reminder that they were 
at Bart's together, but the closed captioner claims he actually 
says "Bath". 
   Chrissy: Which is either a reference to the town or a 
    WHOLE different context to their relationship.
   Diandra: We met in the Turkish Bath, remember? I was 
    there when you lost your virginity? Er...I mean...I was 
    in the room, but...no, that sounds worse...
   Chrissy: Did that infection ever go away for you?

We fast forward to the bar where Watson finishes his story by 
saying that at least he made it home, unlike some guys. But he 
doesn't have a place to live since he's having a hard time 
finding a decent place he can afford. Stamford laughs and says 
Watson is the second person who has said that to him today. 
"Who was the first," Watson asks.

And we cut to Sherlock - sans fluffy black curls - already 
whipping the hell out of a body in the morgue. Watson and 
Stamford stand outside the door, watching his silhouette while 
Stamford explains that it has something to do with figuring out 
how long after death a body can still bruise. Watson sort of 
twitches and asks where this friend of his is then. Stamford is 
like "uhhhhhh..." Watson looks back and forth between them with 
slow burning dread. 
   Chrissy: Or arousal. 
   Diandra: No.

They go into the room where Sherlock - Holmes...this is going 
to take getting used to - is still whaling away so 
enthusiastically that he's probably in danger of throwing out 
his shoulder and Watson calls some overly polite thing about 
not wanting to interrupt him. Holmes stops, looks Watson up and 
down and announces that he was in Afghanistan. Then he throws 
the whip at him, which Watson instinctively catches. "Excellent 
reflexes. You'll do."
   Chrissy: You also seem pretty comfortable handling that 
    thing, so that's a plus.
   Diandra: Okay, if you're going to keep going off into 
    that little headspace you're going to need to decide 
    which of them is the dominant one.
   Chrissy: They just met. Clearly they haven't discovered 
    Sherlock's secret desire to submit to John's military 
    authority yet.
   Diandra: You've given that too much thought.
   Chrissy: Says the fanfiction writer who described John 
    getting a rush out of picturing Sherlock wearing his 
    dog tags like a secret brand.
   Diandra: Yeah, I'm blaming you for that.

Holmes announces that there is a suite of rooms in Regent's 
Park that he's reasonably certain they can afford. Watson is 
like wait...who said anything about rooms? I JUST MET YOU. 
Holmes babbles that he was just telling Stamford this morning 
that he needed a roommate and now he's introducing him to an 
old friend who was invalided from the military after being 
injured in battle, so...duh. He barely pauses for a breath 
before adding that he has a hanging he has to get to and oh, by 
the way he plays the violin and smokes a pipe. These are his 
only flaws. He thinks. Watson makes a couple attempts to get a 
word in and is immediately drowned out. "And you are clearly 
acclimatized to never getting to the end of a sentence," Holmes 
smirks. "We'll get along splendidly."
   Chrissy: Yes, until I shoot you.
   Diandra: Oh, I'm sure you will come up with other ways 
    to shut me up that will be a lot more fun for both of 
    us.
He ends with a slight variation on the line he concluded with 
in the present, but instead of winking he just plops his top 
hat on his head and marches off, which doesn't quite have the 
same effect. "Yes. He's always been like that," Stamford says. 
Again. And again, I have to ask: why did you do this then? Was 
it some sort of a bet? Who can find someone Sherlock won't 
drive batty within twenty four hours or something?

Opening credits, the music of which is slightly altered and the 
images of which are completely different and feature horses 
where there used to be big red buses. Mofftiss apparently both 
wrote this episode.

We morph to a man hocking copies of The Strand on a street 
corner, featuring a little silhouette of Sherlock Holmes in the 
deerstalker hat holding a pipe. Because this was the magazine 
Doyle published the original stories in. To establish WHEN this 
is, it is snowing and we can hear a choir singing "Hark the 
Herald Angels Sing" somewhere in the background. A carriage 
pulls up to the guy and Watson - now sporting a ridiculous 
mustache that actually curls up at the edges like some 
vaudeville caricature - leans out to ask how "The Blue 
Carbuncle" is doing. The newsman says it's very popular, but 
asks if there's going to be a "proper murder" next month. 
Watson promises to have a talk with the criminals of London. He 
might even provide them with ACME explosives (I hear they come 
with little switches now so you can just turn them off instead 
of disarming them) before painting a tunnel on the side of a 
building and escaping through it.
   Chrissy: I think you might be confusing vaudeville with 
    Looney Tunes.
   Diandra: There's a difference?
   Chrissy: Probably not as far as this show is concerned, 
    no.

The newsman asks if Sherlock Holmes is in the carriage right 
now. There's a thunk and Holmes makes a loud, pained noise like 
Watson just kicked him. Nope, he says. Nobody in here.
   Chrissy: And quit whining about the rope being too 
    tight! Don't make me gag you again!
   Diandra: You know, you scare me sometimes.
The carriage pulls away and the newsman calls "Merry Christmas, 
Mr. Holmes" after it.

When they reach Baker Street we get a little homage to the 
Jeremy Brett series from the 80s, complete with the melody from 
the opening theme on the soundtrack. The awning on the shop 
downstairs says "Speedwell's" now. Mrs. Hudson throws open the 
door to greet Holmes, who is nursing his pipe as he steps out 
of the carriage. She chastises him for not telling her when he 
was planning to come home. Holmes says something about 
dismembered country squires and how was he supposed to know how 
long it would take? Watson emerges behind him and Archie - the 
boy from the wedding who bonded with Sherlock - asks what's in 
the bag he's carrying. Watson is like 'nothing. It's nothing. 
Run along, little boy' like he would actually love to see 
dismembered body parts if he's anything like his modern 
counterpart. Archie shrugs, takes a piece of luggage and asks 
Holmes if they caught the murderer as they head inside. Holmes 
says yes, but they're still looking for the legs. "I think 
we'll call it a draw." Mrs. Hudson notes that Watson published 
another one of his stories. Watson grins and asks if she 
enjoyed it. "No," she says. In fact, she never enjoys them 
because "according to you I just show people up the stairs and 
serve you breakfasts." Watson tries a writer argument of that 
being her ROLE within the "narrative". "My WHAT," she squawks. 
Before she can tell him where he can shove his "narrative", 
Holmes tries to assure her that it's not just her. "I'm hardly 
in the dog one." Mrs. Hudson yelps that she is NOT a plot 
device and grumbles about them making the room look so drab and 
dingy. Watson blames the illustrator for that and snits that he 
had to grow this ridiculous mustache just so people would 
recognize him.
   Chrissy: Oh, is that the excuse you're using?
   Diandra: I guess it's fair since Sherlock has to wear 
    the stupid hat for the same reason.

In voice over again, Watson notes that he has had the privilege 
of telling the stories of his brilliant friend's adventures. 
Did he mention how very brilliant Sherlock Holmes is? And 
handsome. He really is quite breathtaking. And if you think I'm 
exaggerating the gushing schoolboy descriptions of the original 
cannon you have clearly never read a Sherlock Holmes story. 
Watson notes that he sometimes has difficulty choosing which 
stories to tell. 
   Chrissy: The real reason the "dog one" doesn't have 
    Sherlock in it is because I was afraid people would 
    question what we were doing all those nights where we 
    had to share a room with only one bed.
   Diandra: I like that, but it doesn't take into account 
    the fact that Doyle actually did publish a story where 
    Sherlock spent the night on a pile of pillows in the 
    corner. 
   Chrissy: True. 
   Diandra: No, I don't think there's any avoiding the real 
    explanation which, by all accounts, is that Doyle 
    freaking hated Sherlock Holmes and that story was 
    written during the time he was "dead" to placate fans 
    while trying to move away from the character.

Holmes opens the curtains in the flat and we linger on the 
decor to show the differences and similarities between this 
version and the modern version. The deer head on the wall has 
an old earhorn thing lodged in one ear (instead of headphones 
covering both). The skull painting on the wall is a more gothic 
version, similar to the creepy thing on the "Silence of the 
Lambs" poster. The knife is still stabbed through some papers 
on the mantle, but the mantle and knife handle are different. 
And though it's not focused on as clearly, the shot-out smiley 
face on the wall has turned into the "patriotic VR" Watson 
described in the original canon. Watson finishes that no case 
ever pushed Holmes quite to such mental and physical extremes 
as The Case of the Abominable Bride. Which was actually just a 
throwaway line in one of Doyle's stories, so...

Holmes finishes throwing open the curtains and reveals a woman 
dressed in black, her face obscured by a veil, standing in 
their sitting area by the fireplace. Watson startles. Holmes 
just sticks his head out and asks Mrs. Hudson why there is a 
woman in his sitting room. Mrs. Hudson calls back that she's a 
client and she was determined to wait for him to come home. 
"Didn't you ask her what she wanted?" Mrs. Hudson snaps at him 
to ask her himself because apparently SHE DOESN'T TALK. Holmes 
grumbles and begs Watson to please start giving her some lines 
because "she's perfectly capable of starving us." Then he turns 
to the woman and invites her to speak freely in front of his 
friend Watson as he "barely understands a word". "Holmes," 
Watson says warningly.
   Chrissy: If you think I won't get out the crop just 
   because there's a stranger here...
Holmes brushes this aside and launches into some observations 
as he paces around the room. The woman has an "impish" sense of 
humor, is recently married to a man who has abandoned her "for 
an unsavory companion of dubious morals" and she's come here in 
a desperate hope to reconcile. Watson snorts. Holmes says he's 
gotten all of that from her perfume, which is bad news for 
Watson as he still doesn't recognize it. Holmes pulls the veil 
from Mary's face and she smirks at Watson and says she couldn't 
think of any other way to see her husband. 

So sometime later, they're arguing in the background while 
Holmes plays the waltz he composed for their wedding on his 
violin. Mary takes issue with being left behind. Again. It's 
not like it would be dangerous for her to join them because all 
HE ever does is take notes and look surprised. The music 
screeches to a stop and Holmes barks at them to knock it off. 
Then he babbles some nonsense about the curtain rising and "we 
are ready to begin". Mary asks what he's talking about. He says 
sometimes to solve one case, they have to solve another. Watson 
asks if he has a new case then. Holmes says no, he has an old 
one. Okay, I'm not going to pretend that we don't know what is 
going on in this episode. I'm just going to assume he's 
breaking the fourth wall here and speaking as his modern day 
self. He adds that he needs to go deep into himself for this 
one.
   Chrissy: Hmm...might need John's help with that.
   Diandra: Only if he shaves that stupid mustache first 
    because that thing CHAFES.

Holmes shakes himself and orders Lestrade to stop hovering near 
the door and come inside. Lestrade, sporting a bowler hat and 
the most ridiculous sideburns humanly possible, comes through 
the door asking how Holmes knew it was him. Holmes, evoking two 
other detectives from the original cannon that we haven't seen 
on this show so far, says his footsteps are lighter than Jones 
and heavier than Gregson. Lestrade says okay, well...what's 
with Mrs. Hudson? She didn't want to talk. Holmes sighs and 
says she has "branched into literary criticism by means of 
satire". He reaches into the Persian slipper on the table by 
his chair for some more tobacco for his pipe and asks what 
Lestrade is doing here in his off duty hours. Lestrade asks how 
he knows he's off duty. Holmes notes that he is practically 
making goo goo eyes at the decanter and prompts Watson to go 
pour him the drink he obviously wants. Watson sighs, but 
complies and asks what they can do for Lestrade. Lestrade 
claims he was just dropping by to wish them season's greetings. 
They all say Merry Christmas to each other and Holmes grumbles 
"thank god that's over" before asking what Lestrade is really 
here about that he's so embarrassed to tell them. Watson 
watches Lestrade suck down his entire drink and says Holmes is 
mistaken here. Holmes smirks and says "then correct me, Doctor" 
in a suggestive tone worthy of Irene Adler. 
   Chrissy: I thought we had discussed you not talking like 
    that when there are other people around?
   Diandra: Did we? I must have forgotten. By the way, 
    could you put on the uniform while you're "correcting" 
    me this time, Captain? 

Watson takes the empty glass from Lestrade and says he's not 
embarrassed, he's afraid. And he needed the drink to calm him. 
Holmes grins at him, turns to Mary and muses that they "grow up 
so fast". He invites Lestrade to sit, which Lestrade does while 
protesting that he's not AFRAID, really. Holmes says fear is 
"wisdom in the face of danger" and "nothing to be afraid of". 
Watson hands him another drink, which he accepts before 
starting the story.

So a woman in full wedding dress is standing on a balcony, 
firing down into the crowded street with pistols in each hand. 
Her makeup is smeared to exaggerate her crazed look as she 
shoots at various men shouting "YOU! You?" 

Holmes holds up a hand to stop Lestrade and the scene freezes 
with their little portion of the sitting room appearing right 
in the middle of the street. Holmes asks when this happened. 
Lestrade says yesterday morning. Holmes asks for the exact 
description of the bride's face. "White as death, mouth like a 
crimson wound," Lestrade reads from his notes. Holmes asks if 
that's poetic exaggeration or literal. Lestrade non-answers 
that he saw her face himself "afterwards". After one last 
"you!" the bride adds "or me?", puts one of the guns in her 
mouth and we pan away as there's a shot, blood sprays on the 
curtains behind her and she falls out of view. Holmes sighs and 
grumbles that Lestrade needs help identifying the guilty party 
when a woman blows her brains out in public. "I fear Scotland 
Yard has reached a new low." Lestrade is like 'oh, shut up, you 
know that's not why I'm here.' Watson asks what the bride's 
name was. Emelia Ricoletti. It was her wedding anniversary. The 
police were called in and she was taken to the morgue, but...

Fast forward a few hours and Thomas Ricoletti exits what looks 
like a theater or something. Notably, he does NOT have a club 
foot. A carriage pulls up and a woman in a wedding dress with 
the veil concealing her face steps out and points a shotgun at 
him while singing creepily about not being forgotten. "You 
recognize our song, my dear," she asks. "I sang it at our 
wedding." She pulls the veil up and he splutters that that 
can't be because she's dead. She asks if he doesn't find her as 
beautiful as the day they married. A cop runs up and asks what 
this is all about. "What's it look like, my friend," she purrs. 
"It's a shotgun wedding." She shoots Ricoletti twice and we 
snap back to 221b for Holmes to make some snarky comment about 
til death they do part. "Twice in this case."
   Chrissy: We've talked about this. You are not funny. 
    Stop it.
   Diandra: I'll stop when you shave that ridiculous thing 
    off your face.
"Emelia" turns around to reveal the bloody stain on the back of 
her veil and disappears into the fog while the policeman 
apparently is too shocked to even try to stop her.

Holmes chortles gleefully and orders Watson to get his hat and 
coat as he leaps for his own. They're headed for the morgue. 
Mary asks if she's supposed to just wait here then. Watson 
condescendingly says "not at all, my dear, we'll be hungry 
later" and chases after Holmes. She glares at his back like 
'this is going in the note I plan to write to explain why I 
murdered you'. Lestrade goes to leave too and Mary adds 
impotently that she's part of a campaign. Votes for Women. 
Lestrade cluelessly asks if she's for or against that. "Get 
out," she snarls and he leaves in a cloud of confusion. Yep. 
Still like Mary. She flops into John's chair and Mrs. Hudson 
enters and bemoans the lives those "gentlemen" lead. Mary 
snorts at the word "gentlemen". Mrs. Hudson hands Mary a letter 
that came for her. Inside is a card that just says "M" on one 
side and "Immediately" on the other. She asks Mrs. Hudson to 
tell her HUSBAND that she'll be home late. Something about a 
friend in need. Mrs. Hudson asks which friend that is. 
"England," Mary says before marching out the door. "Well, 
that's not very specific," Mrs. Hudson grumbles to nobody.

In the carriage on the way to the mortuary, Holmes asks who is 
on duty tonight. Lestrade says he knows very well who and 
Holmes groans. 

The minute they arrive, Holmes demands to know which "idiot" 
put chains around the body. Hearing his name, Anderson snits 
that it's for everybody SAFETY. Watson pulls the sheet from the 
head of the body to reveal Emelia's face and notes that she is 
very clearly dead as half her head has been blown off so she 
can hardly be considered a threat to anyone.
   Chrissy: Unless, you know...she turns out to be a 
    zombie.
   Diandra: But I mean...that would be ridiculous unless 
    Moriarty cultivated a serum from that weird plague-
    carrying meteor that fell a couple years ago and she is 
    part of the hoard he is creating to take over London.
   Chrissy: So you read that graphic novel I loaned you 
    then?
   Diandra: It's disturbing, really, how you knew I would 
    like that.
Anderson says yeah, well, tell that to her husband. His body is 
over in the corner. Holmes is pretty sure they can safely rule 
out a dead woman as being responsible for whatever happened 
last night. Anderson is like really? Are you sure about that? 

Holmes, tired of this ridiculousness, asks where Hooper is. 
This is Molly's cue to arrive, wearing a short wig and mustache 
and speaking with an affected deep voice that really shouldn't 
fool anyone. She orders Anderson to go back to work. Holmes 
asks if there's anything she...he...would like to draw his 
attention to.
   Chrissy: Nah, I gave up on that after YEARS of 
    frustration. 
   [ETA Diandra: I was going to change this after seeing 
    season four and the horrible regression of Molly's 
    character, but I decided I will get plenty of 
    opportunities to point out the irony of this moment 
    (and really this entire episode) later]
Hooper says nope. Don't let the door hit you on the way out. 

Lestrade begs "Doctor Hooper" to be nice because he asked 
Holmes to come here. Hooper sniffs and notes that there are two 
"features of interest" to borrow a phrase he's always using in 
Watson's stories. Holmes is like what? I never say that. Watson 
says he does to. A lot. Holmes blinks at him like 'we will 
discuss this later'. Hooper says this is definitely Emelia 
Ricoletti. Beyond a doubt. Except it was definitely her at the 
scene of the murder last night too because her husband 
identified her and he had no reason to lie in that moment. 
Lestrade confirms that the cabbie said it was her too. Watson 
says she could hardly have been in two places at the same time. 
Especially since she was a corpse in one of them. He suggests 
it could have been twins. Holmes, who has been using a 
magnifying glass to look at Emelia's hand, straightens and says 
no, definitely not. It is NEVER twins. Lestrade confirms that 
she had no sisters, much less an identical one. Her one older 
brother died years ago. Watson suggests she could have had a 
secret twin. They might have planned this whole thing. Holmes 
notes that that would be very prescient to plan a murder from 
the MOMENT OF CONCEPTION. He stops short of asking if the 
effort required to grow that ridiculous facial hair is robbing 
Watson's brain of valuable energy and just repeats that it is 
NEVER TWINS. Watson bristles and asks what HIS theory is then. 
Holmes ignores him and turns to Lestrade, asking which part of 
this he found so unnerving that he was gulping liquor back at 
the flat. Hooper suggests it has something to do with the other 
"feature of interest". She/he holds up the hand Holmes wasn't 
inspecting to reveal a smear of blood on her index finger. 
Watson says that could have gotten there a number of ways. 
Hooper says yeah, but it wasn't there earlier. Lestrade shines 
a lantern on the nearby wall where the word "you" is written in 
blood and says that wasn't there either. Holmes starts 
muttering about the unambiguity of putting a gun in ones mouth 
and blowing the back of the skull away and ends with "how could 
he survive?" Watson looks around nervously and notes that he 
obviously meant to say "she". Holmes distractedly says yeah, 
sure...whatever. He shakes himself and says he'll send a 
telegram when he's solved the case and stalks off. 

Watson hangs back to note that despite the obvious cause of 
death there seem to be signs of consumption, so it might be 
worth doing a post-mortem. "Oh, isn't he observant now that 
Daddy is gone," Hooper sneers. Watson bristles and notes that 
he is PERFECTLY OBSERVANT in some ways, just as Holmes is 
completely ignorant in others. He did mention the Earth 
revolving around the sun thing, right? Also..."amazing what one 
has to do to get ahead in a man's world," he adds and tips his 
hat to her like the 19th century equivalent of a mic drop 
before sauntering away. Anderson, clueless as ever, asks what 
the hell he meant by that. Hooper is like 'shut up and get back 
to work, serf.' 

Two things. First...only an idiot would believe she was really 
a man and not a woman pretending to be a man. So, Anderson 
apparently. I'm assuming everybody else is just being willfully 
ignorant here. Second...Daddy?
   Chrissy: I believe I've said before that I am willing to 
    let you boss me around while we're on cases. 
    Privately...we know who's really wearing the pants 
    here.
   Diandra: Well, assuming Mary isn't in the room anyway.

On the way back, Watson asks if Holmes has a theory yet. Holmes 
starts waxing poetic about "deep waters" and having to go 
"deeper still".
   Chrissy: You know, you can just say no. Or at least stop 
   complaining that I'm writing you this way. 
Headlines flash by the way they usually do, only they're in 
newspaper clipping style now. They're all about ghosts and Mrs. 
Ricoletti and how Scotland Yard is baffled. Watson voice overs 
that it was several months before they were able to return to 
this case. 

Holmes is pacing 221b in front of Lestrade, an enormous book in 
his hands. Lestrade exposits that there have been five murders 
now and they all appear identical. Holmes tells him to be quiet 
because he's doing something much more important. Namely, 
understanding "the obliquity of the ecliptic". Oh, so we're 
just now getting to the "he doesn't know about the solar 
system" part in this reality? Am I going to need a flowchart to 
keep track of which parts of cannon are established where in 
each separate version of this show? Lestrade is surprised to 
learn that there is something Holmes doesn't already know. 
Holmes scoffs that that would be a waste of useful space in his 
brain (attic...Doyle called it an attic, though I'm not sure 
the writers of this show remember that). Lestrade wonders why 
learning about the solar system is so important suddenly and 
Holmes snaps back that his BORING murders are hardly any better 
use of his intellect.
   Chrissy: So, John teased you about it and now you're 
    getting defensive.
   Diandra: Yeah, it seems that way, doesn't it?

Lestrade says they have FIVE DEAD BODIES and fills in a couple 
more details: there was rice scattered on the floor and the 
word "you" scrawled in blood on the wall of all of the scenes. 
The only explanation possible is that the bride has somehow 
risen from the dead. "Solved it," Holmes sings, not even 
looking up from the book. He says it's obvious (don't know why 
they missed the opportunity for him to say "elementary" 
there...): the story has been widely reported. Other people are 
disguising unrelated murders to make it look like the bride did 
it. And Scotland Yard is dumb enough to fall for it and go 
chasing a ghost. He slaps the book down and grumbles that 
Lestrade should be sure to pay Mrs. Hudson a visit on his way 
out of the flat because "she likes to feel involved." Then he 
calls to Watson to get his hat and boots because they have an 
appointment. Lestrade is like yeeeaaaahhhh, um...didn't he move 
out months ago? Holmes looks confused and wonders who he's been 
talking to all this time.
   Chrissy: Oh, you're still talking to me, dear. I'm in 
    your head now.
   Diandra: It was the only thing that kept me going when 
    that sadistic Baron [WHACK] OW!
   Chrissy: We discussed this. Drop it.

Lestrade snarkly notes that he may be just another moron 
working at Scotland Yard, but the chair Holmes was just 
addressing is definitely empty. Holmes is like huh...and here 
he thought Watson was "improving". He shrugs and goes to get 
ready himself while Lestrade just shakes his head and walks 
away. We know, Greg. We know.

Watson house. Watson is staring over his newspaper at the empty 
chair with an unused place setting in front of it. He huffs in 
annoyance and rings a bell. Nothing happens. He checks his 
watch and pointedly rings it again. A maid finally enters the 
room, apologizing for running late this morning. He complains 
about her taking so long to make breakfast, not keeping up with 
the dusting or the fireplace and nearly ruining his shoes when 
she cleaned the mud off them. Then he adds that she's lucky his 
wife isn't home because dealing with the staff is HER job.
   Chrissy: You just wait until your mother comes home, 
   young lady!

Watson asks where his boss...er...wife is anyway. Maid just 
says she "went out". Well, duh. Watson asks when the hell she 
did that and, apparently not expecting an answer, grumbles that 
she's always ducking out these days. The maid notes that he is 
too. Watson glares at her. She says sorry, it's just 
that...they're hardly ever home at the same time... Watson 
looks like he's about to have a stroke and splutters at her 
that he will "have a word with my wife to have a word with 
you."
   Chrissy: Oh, yeah. I bet she's really quaking in her 
   boots.
The maid, who I'm quickly beginning to love, is like 'okay, 
sure. And when will that be?' Before he can become completely 
apoplectic, she remembers a telegram came for him this morning. 
He's like 'and when were you going to tell me about this?' 
She's like 'what? I am NOW.' He asks what the hell she's been 
doing all morning. She says she was reading his new Sherlock 
Holmes story in The Strand. He blinks, shifts gears a little 
and asks what she thought of it. She asks why he never mentions 
her. "Go away," he grumbles and she skips off. He opens the 
telegram and the hovertext beside him in the form of a typed 
message reads "come at once if convenient. If inconvenient, 
come all the same. Holmes." 

In the cab, Watson puzzles over Holmes' newfound obsession with 
the ecliptic. "Come at once, you said. I assumed it was 
important." Holmes thinks the tilt of the equator relative to 
the celestial plane is very important. Watson snorts that he's 
been reading up on the solar system to try to sound smarter. 
Holmes bristles at the idea that he would need to SOUND smart. 
Watson deduces that they're going to visit someone smarter than 
him then. "Shut up," Holmes grumbles. 
   Chrissy: Lashing out randomly because you're feeling 
    inadequate about the size of your...intellect? How very 
    human of you.
   Diandra: Says the person who just made impotent threats 
    at his maid.

So of course, said smarter person is Mycroft. We know this 
because the building they go into has a sign outside that says 
"Diogenes Club" and another inside that says "absolute 
silence". They approach the front desk and Holmes greets a man 
named "Wilder" with what is presumably sign language, although 
I'm not convinced that whoever was consulting on this episode 
didn't throw in random bullshit gestures to be funny because 
his sign for "Wilder" involves clawing at the air and snarling 
like a baby tiger.
   Chrissy: We have discussed this. Yes, you are a sexy 
    kitten. 
   Diandra: Well, maybe if YOU said it more often I 
    wouldn't have to seek compliments from strangers.
   Chrissy: Maybe we should do our own interpretation of 
    what they're really saying. Sort of like Bad Lip 
    Reading, but for sign language.
   Diandra: You're on.

   Holmes: [rubs fists together, taps his chest and points 
    somewhere behind Watson]
   Subtitles: Is my brother in?
   Diandra: Do you have a room available? My partner here 
    has a desperate need to prove his masculinity.
   Wilder: [waves finger, mimes shoveling food toward his 
    face, holds palms out]
   Subtitles: Naturally, sir, it's breakfast time.
   Chrissy: You know the rules. You have to wait a half 
    hour after you eat for that.
   Holmes: [points behind John again and draws a rectangle 
    with his fingers]
   Subtitles: The Stranger's Room?
   Diandra: Do you have a room with a double bed?
   Wilder: [nods]
   Subtitles: Yes, sir.
   Chrissy: Yes, there's a nice quiet room at the back 
    where you can make all the noise you want and nobody 
    will hear you. Extra insulated. Will regular linen do 
    or would you prefer silk? Or if you need rubber, we 
    have that too. We don't judge. Just try not to do too 
    much damage to the carpets or leave deep gouges in the 
    bed slats.
   Diandra: Well, I think we can declare you the winner of 
    that little competition right now.
   Chrissy: Keep writing.
   Diandra: Yes ma'am.

   Holmes: [points to Watson and puts his index fingers 
    together]
   Subtitles: This gentleman is my guest.
   Diandra: I'm not totally sure of the nuances of this 
    language. Which sign means "partner" and which one 
    means "secret gay lover" again?
   Wilder: [points to wrist, entwines fingers of both 
    hands, holds hands out like a book, rubs the back of 
    one hand, makes bursting gesture, skims one palm off 
    the other]
   Subtitles: Ah, yes, Doctor Watson! Of course. Enjoyed 
    the Blue Carbuncle, sir.
   Chrissy: Ah, yes, the secret lover. Here to open his 
    [censored] and rub his [censored] until he [makes 
    bursting gesture and skims one palm off the other]
   Diandra: I'm actually not the one censoring Chrissy 
    here. She's dictating her response to me like that.
   Chrissy: Don't tell THEM! You're ruining the joke!

There's silence for a moment before Holmes prompts Watson with 
a kick. Watson startles and employs his obviously shaky 
language skills to thank Wilder and tell him he is very ugly. 
Holmes looks horrified. Wilder is like 'excuse me you lunatic?' 
Watson digs himself in deeper, insisting that what Wilder said 
about the "Blue Fishmonger" was very "ugly" and "I'm glad you 
liked my potato". Holmes launches into a bunch of gestures the 
subtitles claim mean that Watson clearly needs to spend less 
time on dance lessons and more time on sign language skills. He 
could just as easily be describing how he could murder Watson 
and dispose of his body somewhere he would never be found. 
Watson stares blankly for a beat and blurts "sorry, what?" 
Holmes stomps off, possibly to find a new partner who won't 
embarrass him. Well, that was fun.

They find Mycroft (and yes, I will have to continue to refer to 
him by his first name for the same reason as Mary: same last 
names are confusing) in the one room they can talk. As this 
special is all about doing the things that are part of the 
original canon that they haven't done for one reason or another 
in the modern series to date, Mark Gatiss is wearing a fat suit 
so ridiculous that he looks like he wouldn't be able to stand 
without the use of either a couple burly guys or a complex 
system of levers and pulleys. Because Mycroft is described as 
fat. He is surrounded by platters of food, but all he has in 
his hand is some grapes, which he casually chews while he 
rambles about how he doesn't need to leave this spot to study 
all the fascinating nuances of human social behavior. Holmes 
snarks that that's good for him since "your ever expanding 
backside is permanently glued to it." Mycroft is like 'I hate 
you to, you little twerp. Hello, Watson!' Watson shakes his 
hand and notes that he looks "well". Mycroft is like 'no, I 
don't. I look like a beached whale carcass'. Watson is like 
'yeah, um...I wasn't going to say anything, but now that you 
mention it...' 

Holmes heads off any doctorly concern about the condition of 
Mycroft's heart by assuring him his brother doesn't HAVE one. 
"It's a family trait," Mycroft smirks. Holmes says he didn't 
mean it as a bad thing. Watson, realizing he's the only adult 
in the room and he should probably just ignore this bullshit, 
says if Mycroft continues like this he'd give him five years, 
max. Mycroft says five? Really? They were thinking three. 
Holmes says he still has his money on four. Mycroft chastises 
Holmes for deducing wrong and points out the visible rings of 
fat around his corneas. Holmes corrects his bet to three years, 
four months and eleven days. Watson objects to them placing a 
bet on how long it will take for Mycroft's morbid obesity to 
kill him. Holmes shrugs it off, assuring Watson that Mycroft is 
competitive enough to will himself into an early grave just to 
spite him. He says he'll change the bet to three years even if 
Mycroft will eat the plum pudding on the tray beside him. 
Mycroft says deal and the camera jumps down his throat as he 
opens his mouth to cram it in.

Some indeterminate time later, the boys are having tea while 
Mycroft says he had expected to hear from them days ago about 
the "Manor House case" because that one seemed to be beyond his 
capabilities as a detective. Holmes grumbles that no, he was 
perfectly capable of solving that one himself. "It was Adams, 
of course," Mycroft needles. Holmes is like YES, STOP TRYING TO 
ONE UP ME. Mycroft exposits to Watson that it was all about 
murderous jealousy. Adams had written a paper on the obliquity 
of the ecliptic for the Royal Astronomical Society, but 
somebody else published another paper that one-upped his. 
Holmes notes that he read it and Watson looks at him like 'oh, 
I get it now'. Mycroft condescendingly asks if he UNDERSTOOD it 
though. Holmes says yes, absolutely. Child's play. Mycroft says 
no, not the paper, the jealousy. "It is no easy thing for a 
great mind to contemplate a still greater one." Holmes smirks 
at him like 'subtle. Really subtle. Mummy liked me best, you 
know.'
   Chrissy: Children...
   Diandra: He started it.

Holmes starts to leave, but Mycroft laughs and says no, 
seriously, he had a reason he needed to talk to him. He just 
couldn't resist playing mean big brother. "Our way of life is 
under threat from an invisible enemy. One that hovers at our 
elbow on a daily basis. These enemies are everywhere, 
undetected and unstoppable."
   Chrissy: It's called fascism and intolerance and in 
   about thirty years it will become a whole lot more 
   visible.
Watson, back to being clueless, asks if he's referring to 
socialists. Mycroft says no. Anarchists, Watson offers. The 
French? The suffragists? Mycroft, frustrated, asks "is there 
any large body of people you're not concerned about?"
   Chrissy: He's a white Victorian male. Also, what British 
    person has ever NOT distrusted the French?
   Diandra: And yet, as my own family proves, while the 
    countries have always publicly claimed to hate each 
    other, there was a whole lot of sleeping with the enemy 
    going on.
   Chrissy: Well, yeah. 

Holmes is like GET TO THE POINT. Mycroft says he's sending them 
a case. At the moment it is just "conjecture" and he just needs 
Sherlock to confirm it. "The Scots," Watson offers, clearly 
still stuck on the "enemies everywhere" thing. Holmes looks 
horrified by him again. Mycroft asks if he's heard about this 
newly discovered phenomenon called PARANOIA. "Ooo, sounds 
Serbian," Watson says. You know, maybe people whose facial hair 
is reminiscent of Snidely Whiplash shouldn't be so quick to 
judge. Holmes seems to have decided to pretend Watson is not 
with him, which is understandable. Mycroft says a Lady 
Carmichael will be calling on them and they should take her 
case. Watson is like 'but what about these invisible enemies?! 
How are we supposed to defeat them?' Mycroft says they can't 
defeat them. In fact, these particular enemies should 
definitely win. "Because they are right and we are wrong." 
Watson, finally mercifully quiet, just blinks at him while 
Holmes redirects back to the particulars of the case. Mycroft 
promises the case has plenty of "features of interest". Holmes 
snits that he doesn't actually SAY that. Watson grumbles that 
he does too. Holmes gives him a quick 'SHUT UP' look and 
continues that Mycroft already solved the case, right? Mycroft 
says yeah, he's pretty confident of the answer he has in his 
head, but he needs Sherlock to do the "legwork". Watson asks if 
he won't at least tell them the answer he's come up with. 
Mycroft thinks that would take the fun out of it. Holmes says 
he'll do it on one condition: eat another plum pudding. "Two 
years, eleven months and four days," he amends his bet to as he 
heads for the door. Watson startles and scurries off behind 
him. Wilder brings Mycroft his fresh batch of plum pudding and 
announces that a Mr. Malice is here to see him. 
   Chrissy: Well, with a name like that he MUST be a good 
   man.

Back at 221b, Lady Carmichael has arrived and is sitting in the 
client chair. She begins by saying something "unusual" and 
"terrifying" has happened to her. Holmes grins and says he 
specializes in these sort of things. He chortles that this is 
looking promising already. "Holmes," Watson says, not even 
looking at him. Holmes falters and becomes serious again, 
clearly understanding that as a warning.
   Chrissy: Hmmm, yes. Which one of us is "daddy" again?
   Diandra: You are, sir.
   Chrissy: Good boy.
Holmes prompts Lady Carmichael to continue. 

Lady Carmichael rambles about how she wasn't sure what to do 
until she remembered her husband was an acquaintance of Mycroft 
Holmes. But she's not sure this is within his "purview". In 
fact, it might require a priest.
   Chrissy: Oh, I'm pretty sure he still has that collar he 
    could wear.
   Diandra: I thought we agreed you wouldn't make me wear 
    the collar?
   Chrissy: Sigh. The PRIEST collar, genius.
   Diandra: Oh. Never mind.

Flashback to Lady Carmichael sitting at the dining room table 
with her husband Eustace and their two children. Eustace asks 
what her morning has consisted of so far. "A vigorous round of 
embroidering?"
   Chrissy: Yes, well, if you could learn to stitch 
    properly, maybe I wouldn't always have to finish it 
    myself.
   Diandra: We're not talking about actually sewing, then.
   Chrissy: No, dear. Do try to keep up.
A servant brings him a tray of messages and he opens the top 
one to ominous music. He stares at the contents, not responding 
to her when she asks what it is. She orders the kids to go 
outside and play, then takes the envelope from her husband's 
hand and dumps five orange seeds out into her palm. She laughs 
and asks what sort of joke this is. He stares at her and 
whispers that it means death. She notes that he's gone pale. He 
jumps up from the table, says it's "nothing" and runs off. 

Holmes asks if she kept the envelope. She says Eustace 
destroyed it, but it was blank anyway. No name, no address, 
nothing. Holmes asks if Eustace has spent time in America. 
Maybe before they were married? She's baffled by the question 
because knowledge of the KKK and the way they handled people 
they didn't like was probably limited for most people. He prods 
her to continue. She says that all happened last Monday. On 
Wednesday, Eustace first saw "her". 

Night. Lady Carmichael wakes up alone in bed and finds Eustace 
standing by a window, moaning. "She's come for me, Louisa," he 
whimpers. He shoves her toward the window to see for herself, 
but all she sees is an empty garden with some hedges cut into a 
maze. He sobs that she's gone and falls to his knees. "It was 
her," he insists. "It was the bride."

Watson looks at Holmes, wide-eyed. Holmes cuts him off before 
he can speak to confirm that Lady Carmichael saw nothing 
herself. Did he happen to describe... She interrupts to say no, 
she didn't see anything UNTIL this morning. 

She wakes up in bed alone again. This time Eustace has wandered 
outside. She puts on some clothes and runs after him. She 
nearly trips over an abandoned woman's shoe on her way to the 
maze. At least I'm pretty sure that's what it is. It's very 
foggy. 

Standard horror sequence as she runs through the maze screaming 
Eustace's name, trips over something and totally fails to 
notice the woman in the wedding dress drifting past behind her. 
Emelia's voice starts singing the do not forget me song again 
from somewhere. Then Lady Carmichael runs into her husband 
standing in a clearing, staring at the veiled woman. She 
demands to know who the woman is. The woman cocks her head and 
says nothing. Lady Carmichael tries to get Eustace's attention 
instead and he tells her that this is Emelia Ricoletti. Then he 
just starts whimpering nonsensically while "Emelia" approaches 
menacingly and hisses his name and a warning that he will die 
tonight. She starts to lift her veil slowly, but he faints 
before she can reveal her face. While Louisa is distracted by 
him, the bride disappears. 

The camera pans out and the curve of the hedges turns into 
Holmes' fingers steepled in front of his face. "Holmes," Watson 
begins, and Holmes immediately tells him to shut up. Watson 
says but...but...Emelia Ricoletti is the name of the bride, 
who... Lady Carmichael notes that he recognizes the name. 
Holmes brushes this off by telling her that Watson "has an 
enthusiasm for stating the obvious which borders on mania". He 
shoots Watson a look. Watson glares back. 
   Chrissy: Five.
   Diandra: Oh, are we doing the counting thing again? How 
    did I get to five already?
   Chrissy: You know very well how.
Holmes asks how her husband is doing today. Louisa says he 
refuses to talk about it, but she has tried to convince him to 
leave the house. NO, Holmes yelps. He should stay right where 
he is. Louisa frowns and asks if he's NOT in danger then. 
Holmes says no, somebody definitely wants to kill him, but 
that's a good thing because "you can't set a trap without 
bait". Watson gives him a look again.
   Chrissy: Six. 

Louisa yelps that her husband isn't BAIT. Holmes says not yet, 
"but he could be if we play our cards right." Watson's eyes are 
now shooting daggers.
   Chrissy: Eight.
   Diandra: What happened to seven?
   Chrissy: Nine. 
He tells Louisa to go home and he and Watson will follow on the 
next train. 
   Chrissy: Well, we'll try to catch the next one, but we 
    have some business we need to take care of first and 
    I'm not sure how long it will take. Don't be alarmed if 
    he is unable to sit by the time we get there. Or if I 
    forget to put my belt back on.
   Diandra: Why would you use your belt when I gave you a 
    perfectly good riding crop?
   Chrissy: Ten.

Holmes gleefully finishes that they don't have a moment to lose 
because Eustace is going to be murdered tonight. 
   Chrissy: TWELVE.
"Holmes," Watson warns again. And, Holmes adds, faltering, "we 
should probably avoid that." Definitely, Watson corrects. 
"Definitely avoid that," he stammers. 
   Chrissy: Let's just round it up to fifteen and maybe we 
    won't have to do this again.
   Diandra: Oh, we'll definitely do this again.

Back at the Diogenes, Mycroft tells someone off camera that his 
brother has taken the case and he is relying on whoever this is 
to "keep an eye on things". "But he must never suspect you were 
working for me. Are you clear on that, Watson?" Mary steps into 
frame from behind him and says he can trust her. 
   Chrissy: Oh, sure. Trust the lying assassin.
   Diandra: Yes.

Train car. "You don't suppose..." Watson begins and Holmes 
interrupts him without opening his eyes. Nope. And he shouldn't 
either. Watson protests that he doesn't know what he was about 
to say. Holmes, still not opening his eyes, says Watson was 
about to suggest some paranormal explanation and he would laugh 
in his face. Watson says but the BRIDE. Holmes sighs and opens 
his eyes. "You amaze me, Watson. Since when have you had any 
kind of imagination?" Watson glowers and says he has "since I 
convinced the reading public that an unprincipled drug addict 
was some kind of gentleman hero." Holmes grumbles that that was 
quite impressive, actually. But back to the case: there are no 
such things as ghosts. "Save those we make for ourselves," he 
adds after a beat. Watson cocks his head at him and asks what 
the hell THAT'S supposed to mean. Holmes ignores him, closing 
his eyes again. 

At the Carmichael mansion, Eustace is trying to explain the 
whole thing away as sleepwalking and a bad dream. Watson asks 
if that dream included the orange pips he got in the mail. 
Eustace scoffs that that was just a joke. Watson says that's 
not the impression his wife got from his reaction. Eustace says 
she's hysterical. You know. Women. Probably her time of the 
month. Holmes, pacing around the room, calls that no, she's 
definitely intelligent and highly perceptive. He says she sees 
whole worlds of potential where others see nothing. Eustace 
sneers and asks how he figures that. "She married you." Watson 
smirks.
   Chrissy: Okay, you're forgiven.

Eustace lunges toward him and Watson immediately takes a couple 
steps to cut off his path. Holmes, unfazed by any of this, says 
he'll try to save Eustace's life, but first he needs to know 
how he is connected to the Ricoletti case. Eustace and Watson 
stop moving and pretend that little near fight didn't just 
happen. 
   Chrissy: It's the subtle things I love most about this 
   show. Somebody threatens Sherlock and John is like "YOU 
   WILL TOUCH HIM OVER MY DEAD BODY."
Eustace splutters and says he's never heard of her. Holmes 
points out that he never said Ricoletti was a HER. Then he says 
he and Watson are leaving now and hopefully they will see him 
again in the morning. Eustace barks at their retreating backs 
that they will NOT be seeing him again tomorrow. Holmes calls 
that he'll be solving his murder then. 

Out in the hall, Holmes hands a butler a piece of paper and 
instructs him to give it to Lady Carmichael. Watson asks what 
that was about. Holmes says he instructed her to claim she has 
a violent headache tonight so she can sleep alone. Because 
she's never used that excuse before, I'm sure. They stop to 
retrieve their coats and scarves and Watson notes that Holmes 
thinks the Bride will try to lure Eustace out again tonight. 
Holmes says that's pretty obvious from the threat. Watson asks 
if he thinks he'll really follow her again. Holmes isn't sure 
what he'll do because he's obviously wracked with guilt over 
something that the orange pips were a reminder of. He exposits 
the meaning of the orange pips again to Watson without going 
into specifics about the KKK. Just noting that it's an American 
thing and Eustace knows what it is and what he did. They pause 
as they emerge from the house into daylight and Holmes 
continues to expand on the discussion back on the train wherein 
he philosophized about the true nature of ghosts. I'm not 
really paying attention to what he's saying though as the 
camera is now close enough yet far enough to get a good angle 
on his entire body and I notice that he has been wearing a 
hideous blue and green plaid suit this entire scene. And brown 
shoes. Watson, meanwhile, is wearing a nice brown suit and 
shoes that actually compliment. Is it just me, or are they 
dressed completely the opposite of the way they normally are in 
the modern version?
   Chrissy: It's hilarious how much this distresses you.
   Diandra: I mean, John's coat matches Sherlock's clothes 
    better than Sherlock's coat does, but it's obvious they 
    didn't accidentally grab the wrong coats because John 
    would look like a child in Sherlock's coat with it 
    falling over his hands and dragging on the ground.
   Chrissy: Are you going to be able to continue recapping, 
    or should I take over for a while?
   Diandra: Huh? Oh. Right.

Holmes says Eustace doesn't just fear death. He thinks Emelia 
Ricoletti has come back from the dead to drag him to hell. 
Watson blinks at him and says "that's a lot of nonsense, isn't 
it?" "God yes," Holmes grumbles. "Did you bring a revolver?" 
Watson asks what good a revolver would be if they're fighting a 
ghost. Holmes repeats the question and Watson sighs like yes, 
of course I brought it. I've been working with you long enough 
to know I need to be prepared for a shootout. Holmes plops the 
deerstalker on his head and announces that the game is afoot. 
Steven and Mark check one more requirement off the list.

The location shot of the Carmichael estate spins around a 
couple times to show the passage of time, landing on a night 
shot. And then we're looking at the outside of a greenhouse. 
Holmes' voice emits from it, barking at Watson to GET DOWN. 
Watson apologizes and grunts that he has a cramp.
   Chrissy: ...........
   Diandra: Go ahead. I know it's killing you.
   Chrissy: No, I'm pretty sure we're going to have to pace 
    ourselves here, so I'm not going to mention that I TOLD 
    YOU that position was a bad idea.
   Diandra: Big of you.
   Chrissy: Speaking of big...
   Diandra: AND WE'RE MOVING ON.
Holmes is watching one of the windows of the main house. The 
light inside blows out and he announces that Sir Eustace has 
gone down for the night. 
   Chrissy: Speaking of going down...
   Diandra: No.

Another light goes out and Holmes announces that Lady 
Carmichael has gone to bed too. Watson waits in silence for 
approximately two seconds before complaining that this is the 
LONGEST NIGHT OF HIS LIFE. He pulls out a watch and notes that 
it's only midnight. Then he decides to try to alleviate his 
boredom by engaging Holmes in conversation. "You know, it's 
rare for us to sit together like this." "I should hope so," 
Holmes grumbles. "It's murder on the knees."
   Chrissy: Hey, I offered to steal a pillow for you, but 
   you refused.
They smile at each other and Watson chuckles a little and 
rambles awkwardly about two old friends just sitting 
around...talking... Holmes looks uncomfortable. "She's a 
remarkable woman," Watson blurts. Holmes reminds Watson that 
"the fairer sex is your department" so he'll just have to take 
his word on that.
   Chrissy: What? Sherlock isn't gay. Whatever would give 
    you the impression he was? 
   Diandra: Yeah. And this near direct quote from Doyle is 
    why I said it is just as easy to infer from the 
    original stories that he's gay as it is to infer that 
    he's autistic. You can absolutely conclude that neither 
    is true (frankly I think the autism thing is ridiculous 
    as it requires such a broad definition of autism that 
    it could potentially apply half of any given 
    population), but you can't fault other people for 
    coming up with a different conclusion.

Watson notes that Holmes liked Lady Carmichael because she is 
intelligent. Holmes says yeah, and she had nice arches too. 
Watson says clearly she's too good for Eustace. And that's not 
him saying it, that's him reading what Holmes was thinking. 
Holmes protests that he has no such opinions. Watson says yes, 
he does. Holmes sighs and says he doesn't like to "dwell" on 
the subject of marriage just in general. 
   Chrissy: Funny how you seem to have decided on that 
    position around the time I got married.
   Diandra: I have no idea what you're talking about.

Holmes asks what's the matter with Watson today. Why is he 
talking like this? Watson notes the watch Holmes carries with 
him that has a picture of Irene Adler in it. We get a brief 
shot of a photo inside a pocket watch and...yes, it's Irene, 
but it's clearly a shot of her from "Scandal in Belgravia" and 
she's dressed in modern clothing, so...nice job, props 
department. 
   Chrissy: Could probably use the excuse that none of this 
    is real.
   Diandra: Sure. Convenient, that.
Holmes grumbles that Watson waited until he fell asleep before 
steeling a look at his watch because he's nosy. Watson easily 
admits that that's exactly what he did. Holmes notes - 
correctly - that Irene Adler was a "formidable opponent" and 
that case was particularly remarkable. Watson says yeah, the 
picture's not bad either. 

Holmes starts getting defensive as he asks where this line of 
discussion is headed. Watson asks why Holmes is so determined 
to be "alone". He adds that "against absolutely no opposition 
whatsoever", he is Holmes' best friend and he is just trying to 
have a conversation with him.
   Chrissy: So as I was saying...as the person most 
    intimately acquainted with you, who loves you despite 
    all reason, why are you so opposed to relationships?
   Diandra: Yeah, I've said it before, but I stand by it. 
    John is the love of Sherlock's life, whether you choose 
    to read that as romantic (pining but repressed by 
    Victorian societal norms) or not (the love of a friend 
    who is closer than a blood relative). He never had 
    anyone else. John might have, but he basically thought 
    of the time he was with Sherlock as the best years of 
    his life, so...
   Chrissy: I like to think that the idea of soulmates is 
    not necessarily tied to romance anyway. Your soulmate 
    can be your best friend without there being a sexual 
    component. 
   Diandra: You can have more than one as well, hence the 
    ending of "Lost". Whole group of souls that needed to 
    find each other before they could move on.
   Chrissy: I see you're taking my earlier reference to 
    "Lost" as free reign to bring everything back to that 
    again.
   Diandra: Sorry.
   Chrissy: No, it's a fun drinking game. See how long it 
    takes before Diandra manages to bring the conversation 
    around to her favorite obsession. 
   Diandra: Bite me, Blondie.
   Chrissy: Should I start counting again?
   Diandra: No, we're good.

Holmes finally gives up trying to redirect and says "if you are 
referring to romantic entanglement, Watson, which I rather fear 
you are, as I have often explained before all emotion is 
abhorrent to me. It is the grit in a sensitive instrument. The 
crack..." "...in the lens," Watson finishes and points out that 
these are the words HE wrote Holmes saying in one of his 
stories for "The Strand". "That is the version of you that I 
present to the public. The brain without a heart. The 
calculating machine. I write all of that [...] but I do not 
believe it." Holmes grumbles something about writing to his 
editor. Watson ignores him and says Holmes is HUMAN and he has 
a PAST. Holmes asks what he means by that. Watson gets the 
uncomfortable Victorian male look as he says er...you know what 
I mean. Holmes blankly says no, he really doesn't.
   Chrissy: Oooookay. Should I just draw a picture or do I 
   need to use puppets?
Watson awkwardly says he must have had...er..."experiences". 
Holmes demands he hand over his revolver because he has a 
feeling he's going to need it. Watson pushes on, insisting that 
Holmes is HUMAN and he must have feelings and, er..."impulses". 
Holmes grumbles that he would quite like to be murdered by an 
avenging ghost right about now. Watson ignores this too and 
says he's saying this as a FRIEND and somebody who WORRIES 
about him. He asks what made Holmes this way. Holmes cocks his 
head at him like 'oh, you sweet little idiot' and says 
"nothing". A dog barks somewhere in the distance and he turns 
toward it and asks "Redbeard?" Then this whole awkward exchange 
- the purpose of which I am not going to address until I 
absolutely have to - is interrupted when a woman in a wedding 
dress appears somewhere outside. Watson blinks and asks what 
they should do. Holmes refocuses and suggests they go talk to 
it.

He goes running off, Watson trailing behind him. When they 
arrive at the floating apparition, Holmes tries to make small 
talk. Hi, Mrs. Ricoletti? Is it? Nice weather we're having. She 
starts retreating back into the shadows and their attention is 
redirected as a man screams upstairs. Glass shatters. Holmes 
goes to check the door and verifies that it is locked as per 
the plan. Then he goes to shatter a window and crawl into the 
house. He lights some sort of lamp on the table that looks more 
like a flashlight and orders Watson to "stay here". Watson is 
like 'the fuck I will.' Holmes points out that all the other 
doors and windows are locked, so he needs him to guard this one 
he just broke. He runs upstairs to find Lady Carmichael 
standing over a puddle of blood, sobbing and screaming. "You 
promised to keep him safe," she accuses. Holmes starts 
following a blood trail out of the room. 

Meanwhile, Watson hears footsteps nearby. He cocks his pistol 
and creeps toward it. He tries to engage whoever it is by 
noting that they must be human, at least. Then he lights a 
candle, noting that there's no point in them sitting here in 
the dark because "this is the nineteenth century". 
   Chrissy: Which is why we have candles and not lanterns. 
   Diandra: Apparently Sherlock took the only one already. 
    But yeah, that doesn't make that line any less weird.

Holmes finds Eustace's body in a hallway, a small, ornate 
handled knife sticking out of his chest. 

A woman screams. Watson's candle blows out and he fumbles to 
relight it while trying NOT to piss himself. The woman in the 
wedding dress appears behind him, hissing "do not forget me" 
over and over. He turns and manages not to scream like a little 
girl when she raises her arms over her head and lunges toward 
him. He does, however, drop the candle and run, slamming right 
into Holmes, who chastises him for leaving his post. Watson is 
like 'but...but...SHE'S IN THERE AND I WAS SCARED AND WHY DID 
YOU LEAVE ME WITH THE HOMICIDAL GHOST?!' Holmes runs to see 
what he's talking about and finds an empty room. He yells at 
Watson for letting her get away. Watson is like FUCK YOU! I saw 
her! It was the bride! "THERE! ARE! NO! GHOSTS!" Holmes 
screams. There's an awkward beat of silence before Watson asks 
what happened to Eustace. 

Cut to the boys and Lestrade standing beside the body. Lestrade 
assures him that he can't blame himself for this. Holmes says 
no, Watson is equally to blame. Watson sighs and neglects to 
tell him where he can shove it.
   Chrissy: Don't be surprised if the next crime scene is 
    his, though, because I might tie him to some railroad 
    tracks later.
   Diandra: Though I'm sure some asshole will just rescue 
    him at the last minute anyway because they ALWAYS DO.

Holmes continues to rant that they have both completely FUBARed 
this whole thing because he promised to protect that man who 
was just murdered. Watson, who the closed captioner identifies 
as Lestrade because apparently s/he can't tell Martin and 
Rupert's voices apart, reminds him that he actually vowed to 
solve the man's murder, so... Holmes snaps that he was 
expecting he wouldn't actually HAVE TO. Watson squats beside 
the body and Lestrade asks what he can tell them. Watson says 
he was stabbed with "considerable force". Lestrade thinks that 
means it must be a man. Watson isn't quite sure. Lestrade 
allows that with a sharp enough blade it could be a woman. 
Watson says yeah, yeah, we SAW who it was. Holmes tries to head 
him off, but he insists that he SAW the ghost with his own 
eyes. Holmes snaps that he saw what he was MEANT to see. Watson 
reminds Holmes that he just recently noted he lacks 
imagination. Holmes shoehorns a variation of the 
impossible/improbable line into another episode. In this case, 
he says the impossible is a ghost killer and what remains is so 
"blindingly obvious even Lestrade could work it out". Lestrade 
is like 'yeah...thanks, asshole.' Holmes ignores him, as per 
usual. He says there's only one suspect with motive and 
opportunity and they might as well have left a note. Lestrade 
grumbles that they did leave a note, actually. Holmes continues 
to ignore him as he reminds Watson that they heard a window 
breaking, but the only broken window they can find is the one 
THEY broke and "what did you just say?" It takes a second for 
them to realize he's talking to Lestrade as that last thing 
finally registered. "I said the murderer DID leave a note. 
There's a message tied to the dagger. You must have seen it." 
Holmes insists there was NO message anywhere when he found the 
body. He marches over and flips over the little gift tag thing 
attached to the knife with string. We don't see what it says, 
but he looks stunned and backs away from the body, ignoring 
Watson's demands to know what just happened. Watson bends to 
flip the tag over. It says "MISS ME?"

And then suddenly we're at the Diogenes again and Mycroft is 
holding the tag and asking Sherlock 'well? Do you?' Sherlock 
asks how the hell he got that from the crime scene. "Crime 
scene? Where do you pick up these extraordinary expressions?" 
Back on topic: does he? "Moriarty is dead," Sherlock non-
answers. But his body was never recovered. Because in this 
version of reality, he went over a waterfall. Also, he was a 
math professor. "Pure reason toppled by sheer melodrama," 
Mycroft describes it. "Your life in a nutshell." Sherlock notes 
that that is also an "extraordinary expression". Danger, Will 
Robinson! Danger! The Matrix is breaking down! Edith Piaf is 
singing about not having any regrets!
   Chrissy: You're mixing references again.
   Diandra: We're not in Kansas anymore! [WHACK] What was 
    that for?
   Chrissy: I was hoping it would act as a reset button.

Holmes looks at the painting of the waterfall, which seems to 
come to life, sniffles and refocuses on Mycroft. Has he put on 
weight? Mycroft notes that they only saw each other yesterday, 
so that would be impossible, wouldn't it? Holmes agrees. 
Mycroft notes that it seems to have happened anyway. What does 
that tell him? He says Sherlock is "in deeper than you ever 
intended." He asks if he's made a list. Sherlock asks what he's 
supposed to make a list of. "Everything. We will need a list." 
Sherlock pulls a piece of paper from his pocket and Mycroft 
praises "good boy." Sherlock starts to hand it over, then 
snatches it back, saying he hasn't finished yet. Moriarty is 
trying to distract him. Mycroft starts quoting Watson, calling 
him the "crack in the lens" and the "fly in the ointment". "The 
virus in the data," he adds ominously. And if there were any 
lingering assumptions that we are legitimately in Victorian 
times, they just went out the window. Sherlock doesn't react 
this time. He just stresses that he has to FINISH this. Mycroft 
suggests that if Moriarty is, indeed, still alive, he will be 
looking for Sherlock. Sherlock says he'll be waiting and stomps 
from the room. "Yes, I'm very much afraid you will," Mycroft 
murmurs to nobody.

221b. Holmes is sitting in a meditative position on the floor. 
He opens his eyes as scraps of paper float past and grabs them 
out of the air one by one, reading headlines about Mrs. 
Ricoletti and the Bride. Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade peak in from 
outside the door to find him still sitting perfectly still, so 
apparently he's in a deeper level of the mind palace. Mrs. 
Hudson says he's been like this for two days, not eating. So 
it's probably, what, two years for him?
   Chrissy: I think the ratio was somewhere between 1:12 
    and 1:20 and each layer increases exponentially, so the 
    second layer would only be months, not years unless 
    he's under for days in the real world.
   Diandra: [eyes glazed over] Sorry, what?
   Chrissy: Never mind. 
 
Lestrade says the press are having a field day (extraordinary 
expression?) and the "steward boy" is outside. Mrs. Hudson says 
she can't get rid of them and she's been running herself ragged 
making tea. Lestrade asks why she's making them tea. She looks 
confused and says she just "does". 
   Chrissy: She can't help it. She's just written that way!
   Diandra: Random eighties reference is random.
   Chrissy: Yeah, well, that movie scarred me for life, so 
    I'm bound to remember it better than others. Don't even 
    get me started on "Never Ending Story". 
Lestrade shrugs it off and says Holmes said there was only one 
suspect and he's been refusing to explain anything since. Mrs. 
Hudson thinks that's strange because he always loves that part 
of crime solving. Lestrade asks what he's doing now. Mrs. 
Hudson says he told her he was "waiting" for "the devil." After 
a pause, she adds that she wouldn't be surprised, really, 
because "we get all sorts here." Lestrade tells her to wire him 
if anything changes. 

Once they leave and close the door, Holmes pushes aside a paper 
to reveal a little box with a syringe. He picks it up and 
stares at it and we cut away before we can actually show him 
shooting up. 

Except we cut right back to a long shot of him sitting in 
exactly the same position in front of the fireplace, so... A 
shadow moves nearby and a floorboard creaks. Holmes frowns, but 
doesn't move. Moriarty announces his presence by repeating the 
line from "The Final Problem". "Everything I have to say has 
already crossed your mind." Holmes, still not opening his eyes, 
gives the required response that "my answer has already crossed 
yours". Moriarty mutters yeah, well, speaking of things 
crossing my mind, did they ever get the bloodstains out of the 
cement? Holmes finally opens his eyes and gets up to face him, 
holding his hand over a gun in the pocket of his dressing gown. 
Moriarty notes that it's dangerous to "finger loaded firearms" 
and adds "or are you just pleased to see me?"
   Diandra: You know...we established that you would 
    roleplay Moriarty several episodes ago, but I feel like 
    we've never properly exploited it. 
   Chrissy: Hmm...did you remember to bring protection this 
    time? Because last time it got really messy.
   Diandra: Oh, you're already...okay. 

Holmes begs Moriarty's forgiveness for him taking 
"precautions". Moriarty says no, he'd be offended if he didn't. 
He takes out his own pistol and plays with it a little. 
   Chrissy: AHAHAHAHAHAHA...
   Diandra: Yeah, I just realized how bad that sounded. 
   Chrissy: ....hahahahahahahahaha [GASP]. No. [giggle pant 
    gasp] It's fine. Continue. 
He cocks it and spins it casually under his chin. Then he looks 
around and notes how much he likes these rooms. "They smell 
so...manly." Holmes notes that Moriarty has already 
"acquainted" himself with them. Moriarty says well, Holmes is 
always away on those little adventures Watson publishes in The 
Strand, so...
   Chrissy: I've been naked on most of the surfaces in 
   here, yes.

He asks if the illustrator travels with them and makes Sherlock 
pose in the middle of a deduction. Holmes is like 'back to the 
topic...' he knows Moriarty has been in his apartment six times 
when he wasn't around. 
   Chrissy: And yet you haven't changed the locks. It's 
   almost like you want me in here.
Moriarty is like uh-huh. Of course. By the way, your bed is 
really comfortable. 
   Chrissy: I especially love the plushy pillows. 
   Diandra: Yeah, thanks for making me explain those stains 
    to Mrs. Hudson, by the way.
   Chrissy: I was thinking of you the whole time, darling.
   Diandra: That's why I told her she could burn them.

Moriarty sweeps his fingers through the dust on the mantle and 
muses that dust is mostly composed of human skin cells. He 
stares for a beat and then - and keep in mind we have just 
established that Sherlock is the only one living here - makes a 
big show of licking the dust from his fingers.
   Chrissy: Mmm. Doesn't quite taste as good as the real 
    thing.
   Diandra: How would you...when...EUUUGGGGGGHHH. I need a 
    shower.
He actually does note that it doesn't taste the same as "fresh" 
skin. Maybe a little "crispy".
   Chrissy: Though I prefer braiiiiiiiinnnns.
   Diandra: Oh, god, not the zombie thing again. We're not 
    doing that!
Holmes, probably swallowing back the reflex to vomit, offers 
him a chair. Moriarty ignores him, rambling about how all 
people are basically just dust waiting to be redistributed and 
it gets into everything and we're constantly surrounded by 
"used up people". Holmes is like yeah. Fascinating. Sit. 
Moriarty keeps rambling and blows possibly imaginary dust from 
the barrel of his gun, idly holding it up to his eye while 
asking if Holmes minds if he fires it to "clean it out". Then 
he turns it toward Holmes and Holmes draws his own gun. 
   Chrissy: Oh, look. Yours is bigger.
   Diandra: Was there actually doubt about that?

They stare at each other for a moment, then slowly pull the 
guns back. Moriarty says they should really stop messing around 
and just get on with it. Also, they don't need "toys" to kill 
each other because "where's the intimacy in that?"
   Chrissy: Yes, I believe we have established before that 
    this is his idea of foreplay and he's one of those 
    twisted nutbags who derives sexual pleasure from 
    killing instead of fucking, but let's pretend he's 
    compensating for the size of his phallic object by 
    promising that the real thing is far more impressive 
    and more likely to get the job done.
   Diandra: You said that before. As I recall there was a 
    whole lot of buildup to you fumbling and getting your 
    shot off early.
   Chrissy: I know I should be staying in character here, 
    but I have to say that I am so proud of you right now, 
    Dee. My little girl is all grown up.
   Diandra: And then John showed up and I had to finish 
    myself off right in front of him.
   Chrissy: So proud.

Holmes moves toward him and orders him to sit down.
   Chrissy: Ooo, are you going to make me, Daddy?
Moriarty innocently asks "why, what do you want?"
   Chrissy: Are you sure you don't need me to kneel?
Holmes reminds him that coming here was HIS idea. Moriarty says 
they both know that's not true. He asks what Sherlock really 
wants. Hovering inches from him now, Sherlock says "the truth."
   Chrissy: Well, that's not its name, but I'll still 
    assure you that you can't handle it.
   Diandra: Clearly that's a lie. Also? Thanks. Now I can 
    never look at Jack Nicolson again.
Moriarty groans that the truth is boring and sidesteps 
Sherlock, rambling about how he probably didn't expect him to 
show up at the scene of the crime. But he promises that Sir 
Eustace got "what was coming to him". Holmes spits that he 
COULDN'T possibly have killed him. Moriarty groans "so what? It 
doesn't matter!"
   Chrissy: Nobody asked you, Moffat.
He urges Sherlock to stop this because they both know he 
doesn't care about any of it. Sir Eustace, the bride, etc. 
"There's only one thing in this whole business that you find 
interesting." 

Holmes whispers that he knows what Moriarty is doing. The 
entire room wobbles like a minor earthquake has suddenly hit 
(or, you know, the plane hit turbulence). He flinches. Moriarty 
continues that the bride put a gun in her mouth and blew the 
back of her head off and yet SOMEHOW she came back. "And you 
need to know how, don't you? It's tearing your world apart not 
knowing." The room wobbles a couple more times. Holmes accuses 
Moriarty of trying to stop him. He's starting to look confused 
and adds that he's distracting him. Moriarty says this reminds 
him of another case, doesn't it? "Hasn't this all happened 
before? There's nothing new under the sun."
   Chrissy: This marks the high point in the writers' self-
    awareness.
   Diandra: And, in hindsight, the possible beginning of 
    their descent into madness. 

Moriarty makes a big production out of trying to recall what 
that case was. He says it's right on the tip of his tongue. The 
room wobbles some more. He sticks his tongue out and presses 
the barrel of the gun to it and leans over, looking up at 
Sherlock.
   Chrissy: Should we discuss the obvious symbolism here?
   Diandra: I don't really think that's necessary. 
   Chrissy: Too obvious?
   Diandra: I mean...he's openly fellating a phallic object 
    right in front of the guy he's been perving over all 
    along. I'm thinking the only way he could be more 
    obvious is if he actually pulled down Sherlock's pants.
   Chrissy: Okay, well, should we talk about why the 
    writers seem so determined to sexualize all their 
    villains by having them openly lust after Sherlock?
   Diandra: I feel like that should be a whole separate 
    dissertation with at least one paragraph focusing on 
    the underlying suggestion that LGBT people are 
    inherently perverted.

The room wobbles again, the glasses in the decanter tray 
tinkling together loudly. Holmes inhales and encourages him to 
consider not ruining Mrs. Hudson's wallpaper. Oh, you mean the 
same paper you shot a "VR" into? Moriarty takes the gun from 
his mouth long enough to hiss that dead is "the new sexy". 
Everything wobbles crazily and Moriarty puts the gun in his 
mouth and fires. Then he stands up, shakes himself off and 
declares that that really "blows the cobwebs away". You know, 
my family often jokes about how going for a walk to "clear your 
mind" takes less time for some people than others. I'm not sure 
what point I had in making that comment, but I'm sure I had 
one.
   Chrissy: Why don't you go for a walk and see if it comes 
    to you? Shouldn't take long.
   Diandra: I hate you.

Holmes stares, wide eyed, as Moriarty turns around to reveal 
the gaping hole in the back of his head and asks how it looks. 
Is it noticeable? Could he cover it with a combover? Holmes 
keeps repeating that Moriarty can't possibly still be alive 
because he SAW HIM DIE. "Why aren't you dead?" "Because it's 
not the fall that kills you, Sherlock," Moriarty says. "It's 
never the fall. It's the landing." Everything wobbles and 
things start crashing to the floor and Holmes stumbles back 
into his chair just as the plane touches down on the runway, 
jolting him back to reality. A steward comes back and announces 
that they landed. Sherlock mumbles dazedly and asks "where are 
we now?" The pilot - who is Lady Carmichael - comes back to 
express her hope that he had a pleasant flight. He gawks at her 
like 'oh, that's where I saw her'. 

Mycroft boards the plane, followed by John and Mary. Big 
brother is far too chipper as he reminds the viewers that 
Sherlock's exile was far shorter than they anticipated. Also, 
it didn't kill him as they thought it would. Because that was 
where we left off. Mycroft cheerfully sending his brother off 
to die. Because siblings are horrible. Sherlock channels Jack 
Shephard and blurts that he has to go back! He almost had it! 
   Chrissy: Aaaaand drink.
John asks where he thinks he needs to get back to because he 
didn't get very far. "Ricoletti and his abominable wife, don't 
you understand," Sherlock yelps. Mary says no, dear, we don't 
because you're speaking gibberish. Sherlock slows down to 
explain that he has a 100 year old case "lodged" in his "hard 
drive" about a woman who seemed to be dead, but came back 
somehow. John catches on and notes that it mirrors Moriarty. 
Sherlock says exactly like him because she shot herself in the 
head. Mary says but they only just found out he's back and told 
him when they turned the plane around five minutes ago. 
Sherlock is like 'yeah? And?' "What progress have you made? 
What have you been doing?" John asks what HE'S been doing. 
Sherlock rolls his eyes and says of course he's been in his 
mind palace "running experiments", trying to determine how he 
would have solved it had he been there in 1895. Mycroft groans 
and slumps into a chair while Mary picks up Sherlock's phone. 
She notes that he's been reading John's blog. Specifically, the 
first story detailing how they met. Sherlock says - as if John 
isn't standing right next to him - that it sometimes helps to 
try to see himself through John's eyes because he's so much 
"cleverer" that way. 
   Chrissy: Aww. I love you too, sweetie.
   Diandra: YOU MARRIED THE WOMAN WHO SHOT ME.
 
Mycroft asks if Sherlock thinks anyone is actually believing 
this. John argues that he's seen him do the mind palace thing 
before. It's like he has a whole other world in his head. 
Mycroft says he knows full well what a mind palace is. It's a 
memory technique. He knows what it can and CANNOT do. Sherlock 
gets fidgety (well, more fidgety) and suggests he doesn't know 
everything. Mycroft asks if he made a list. Sherlock glares at 
him and launches into a deduction about how Mycroft has put on 
weight. Mycroft snaps at him to knock it off and repeats the 
question. A list. Of everything he's taken. John protests that 
this has nothing to do with drugs if that's what he's 
suggesting. Because he's still living in denial that Sherlock 
actually takes drugs. He is interrupted by Sherlock pulling a 
piece of paper from his jacket and flinging it to the floor. 
John picks it up and boggles at it. Mycroft explains that they 
have had a long standing agreement since the day he found him 
in some crack den ODing. Wherever Mycroft finds him, he will 
have a list on him. John splutters that he couldn't POSSIBLY 
have taken all these drugs in the past five minutes. Mycroft 
says no, he was probably high before he even boarded the plane. 
He's an addict. He's good at hiding shit like that. Sherlock 
protests at the term addict and - like an addict - claims he 
just uses to alleviate boredom or heighten his senses. You 
know. Legitimate reasons. John yells that this combination 
could KILL him. Sherlock says no, controlled usage is not 
usually fatal. Also, "abstinence is not immortality". Yeah, 
that's...an argument for having the occasional drink. Not doing 
enough drugs to stun a horse. 

Mycroft is distracted by Mary's frantic tapping on Sherlock's 
phone. He asks what she's doing. She says she's looking up 
Emelia Ricoletti. Since nobody said her name before, I'm 
assuming she looked that up first. Mycroft thinks that's a good 
idea and offers his access to top level MI-5 archives. "Yep, 
that's where I'm looking," Mary says without looking up. 
Mycroft blinks and snarkily asks what she thinks of MI-5 
security. "I think it would be a good idea," she fires back 
sweetly. Have I mentioned I love Mary?
   Chrissy: You would.
   Diandra: What is that supposed to mean?
   Chrissy: Nothing, Sherlock.
Anyway, she says she found it and it is unsolved just like 
Sherlock said. Sherlock snaps at everybody to SHUT UP for five 
minutes so he can go back to his mind palace. He was ALMOST 
THERE before they all boarded the plane and started "yapping 
away". John bristles at being yelled at for interrupting 
Sherlock's little overdose.
   Chrissy: If there weren't people here, I would take you 
   over my knee...

"Sherlock, listen to me," Mycroft begins. "No, it only 
encourages you," Sherlock interrupts. Mycroft continues as if 
he didn't hear. "I'm not angry with you." Sherlock, still fully 
in snark mode, says "oh, that's a relief, I was REALLY worried. 
No, hold on. I really wasn't." Mycroft stares at him for a beat 
like 'you should be eternally grateful I didn't smother you 
when you were a baby'. Then he reminds Sherlock that he has 
always been there for him and always will be. He adds that this 
whole thing is his fault. "A week in a prison cell. I should 
have realized that in your case, solitary confinement is 
locking you up with your worst enemy." Sherlock groans, then 
startles when John's voice asks "morphine or cocaine?" He turns 
to look at John and asks him to repeat that. John is like 
'what? I didn't say anything.' Sherlock says no, he just 
said...and then Martin's voice is coming out of Benedict's 
mouth to repeat "which is it today? Morphine or cocaine?" and 
it's really creepy. 

We snap back into the mind palace, where Holmes is curled up on 
the floor of 221b. He twitches as a door slams and Watson 
demands he ANSWER THE QUESTION. "Moriarty was here," Holmes 
mumbles. Watson snips that Moriarty is DEAD. Holmes stretches 
like he was just taking a little nap and says he was just on a 
jet and Watson and Mycroft were there.
   Chrissy: And a yappy little dog and some flying monkeys 
   for some reason.
Watson looms over him and says he hasn't GONE anywhere and 
repeats his question for probably the sixth time. Morphine or 
cocaine? Holmes finally answers that it was his usual 7% 
cocaine solution. He holds out the needle in its fancy case and 
asks if Watson would like to try some. Watson threatens to 
gather all the drugs Holmes has and pour them out the window. 
Holmes smirks and says he would be forced to stop him if he 
tried. Watson reminds him that he is a soldier and he could 
easily take down a drug addict. 
   Chrissy: Oh, look at the foreshadowing.
   Diandra: No. I don't want to.
Holmes is like pffffttt. You're not a soldier, you're a doctor. 
Watson growls that he's an army doctor (who had bad days) and 
he can name every bone in Holmes' body as he's breaking it.
   Chrissy: Of course there are other applications for my 
   knowledge of anatomy that I would much rather be doing, 
   but that's up to you.
"My dear Watson, you are allowing emotion to cloud your 
judgment," Holmes says. 
   Chrissy: Don't you "my dear" me, you bastard. Why do you 
    always do that when I'm pissed at you?
   Diandra: I should think that would be obvious.

Watson reminds Holmes that he promised he wouldn't do this on a 
case. Holmes reminds Watson that he never actually said that, 
Watson just wrote that in one of his little stories. Watson 
says he's happy to "play the fool" for Holmes...
   Chrissy: I'll play anything really. Doctor. Soldier. 
    Pirate who took you prisoner on my last port visit...
   Diandra: Thank you for that little mental picture, 
    Chris. 
   Chrissy: You're welcome to that plot bunny if you need a 
    break from Amnesiac!Sherlock and Sorcerer!John.
   Diandra: How many times do I have to explain the 
    difference between a sorcerer and an empath?
   Chrissy: I don't really care. I'm just in it for the 
    sex.
   Diandra: Is that the title of your autobiography?
   Chrissy: Haha. Probably.
He continues that he will chase after Holmes like a 
particularly stupid pet just to make him look smarter but NOT 
if he continues to do shit like this. Holmes will hold himself 
to a "higher standard" because people NEED him. Holmes snorts 
"what people? Why? Because of your idiot stories?" Their 
domestic is interrupted by little Archie running up the stairs 
to deliver a telegram to Holmes. Holmes blinks at it and looks 
up at Watson. Watson is like 'yeah, okay, we both know I'm 
going to get sucked in'. Holmes says it's about Mary and it's 
quite possible she's in danger. Watson hesitates as Holmes gets 
his coat. He asks if this is still the cocaine talking because 
he's pretty sure Mary is out with friends of hers and couldn't 
POSSIBLY be in danger right now.

He reluctantly follows Holmes down the stairs, asking if he's 
even in a state to go out in public right now. Holmes says he 
will for Mary. "Never doubt that, Watson." Then he groans and 
doubles over but snaps that he's FINE when Watson tries to 
catch him. He goes to grab a top hat. Watson rips it from his 
hands and gives him the deerstalker instead because "you're 
Sherlock Holmes, wear the damn hat!"
   Chrissy: If you do, then the next time I say those words 
    will be in a context that will be much more fun for 
    you.
   Diandra: Why would I wear...never mind.

In the buggy, Watson demands Holmes tell him exactly what is 
going on here and where his wife is. Holmes sneers about 
Watson's tendency to fill time with stupid questions. Watson 
briefly changes into John with modern clothing and no mustache 
to yell at him to "tell me where my bloody wife is, you pompous 
prick or I'll punch your lights out." Holmes turns to him like 
'the fuck did you just say?' Watson blinks at him like 'what?' 
Holmes keeps staring like 'Jesus, is this really what he thinks 
of me?' as he says she's at a "de-sanctified" church. She 
thinks she has the answer to their case and has put herself in 
danger to prove it. "An excellent choice of wife," he grumbles. 
   Chrissy: Might I remind you, once again, that we were on 
    a break?
   Diandra: I don't see how that's relevant as I was only 
    commenting on how perfect she is for you. Feeding your 
    need for excitement and danger.
   Chrissy: So you weren't subtly hinting that that used to 
    be your job and she's basically you with a vagina?
   Diandra: Well, now that you mention it...although Molly 
    is basically you with a vagina, so...
   Chrissy: Who?
   Diandra: The woman the writers of this show invented out 
    of nowhere in order to have a female John to slobber 
    all over Sherlock without having to go the direct route 
    that "Elementary" did?
   Chrissy: Oh, is that why? I was wondering where she came 
    from.

They arrive at the church and meet Mary, who claims to have 
"found them". She leads them to an underground chamber, 
explaining that this is what is at the heart of the entire 
conspiracy. They peer through an opening in a stone wall and 
see figures in black hooded robes drifting down another 
hallway, chanting in something that sounds like Latin. Watson 
asks what the HELL this place is and what Mary is doing here, 
exactly. Mary says she's been poking around at Holmes' request. 
Watson looks at Holmes and asks how he could POSSIBLY... Mary 
says no, not THAT Holmes. "The clever one". She says she just 
realized she probably needs backup. But she's pretty sure this 
proves Mrs. Ricoletti had help. Holmes is like 'good job. Do 
you really think Mycroft is smarter than me?' Watson looks 
straight ahead and says, embarrassed, "I thought I was losing 
you. I thought perhaps we were...neglecting each other." "Well, 
you're the one who moved out," Holmes answers before Mary can 
say anything. Bless him. Watson visibly holds in a groan as he 
points out that he was TALKING to MARY, actually.
   Chrissy: Although, once again, WE WERE ON A BREAK!
   Diandra: ME WITH A VAGINA, JOHN.
   Chrissy: YOU WERE DEAD.

After a pause, Watson asks how Mary came to work for Mycroft. 
Mary says he likes to spy on his erstwhile sibling. Holmes 
notes that that's what he has JOHN for and suggests that Mrs. 
Watson has more skills than are strictly required of a nurse. 
She asks when Holmes figured that out. He says just now, 
actually. She taunts him that it must be difficult being the 
stupid one of the family. He suggests they stop chatting and go 
figure out what those creepy looking cult people over there are 
doing. 

They follow them into a small room and Holmes grabs a mallet to 
bang on the gong by the door. He apologizes that he just can't 
resist big, shiny noisy things.
   Chrissy: Like every guy ever.
   Diandra: Seriously, is that coded into their DNA or 
    something?
Mary basically mutters 'oh, really, drama queen?' Holmes gives 
her a 'shut up, both of you' look and continues that these 
people obviously share his enthusiasm for dramatics. He walks 
up and down between two rows of them as he rambles about how 
wonderful their performance was and reviews the details of the 
case. A woman killed herself, then somehow rose from the grave 
to kill her husband. 

We flashback to the first suicide scene as he runs through the 
things that must have happened. Emelia Ricoletti stood on her 
balcony firing shots at people and generally making a big scene 
so everyone would notice. Then while she was putting one of the 
guns in her mouth, she was ACTUALLY firing the other one into 
the ground. She had an accomplice spray fake blood on the 
curtains at that exact moment. She fell and both of them 
switched her body with a fake duplicate corpse. And because 
nobody was really good at identifying people beyond reasonable 
doubt in those days, everybody bought that it was her. The real 
Mrs. Ricoletti escaped, convinced a cab driver to track down 
her husband outside his favorite opium den. Then she staged the 
little murder committed by a ghost. And then she had somebody 
actually shoot her through the mouth and switch her body with 
the fake body in the morgue before anybody questioned whether 
it really was her. 

Mary notes that dying is an awfully extreme way of proving a 
point. "Every great cause has martyrs," Holmes rambles. "Every 
war has suicide missions, and make no mistake: this is war. One 
half of the human race at war with the other." This is the 
invisible army his brother was talking about. The people who 
are right under their noses who do everything for them only to 
be "ignored, patronized, disregarded" and not even allowed to 
vote. The figures remove their hoods to reveal what their voice 
already kind of gave away: they are all women. And because we 
are in Sherlock's mind palace, they are all women he has met at 
some point probably. He keeps rambling about them being an army 
with a just cause of righting the oldest of injustices and 
Mycroft was right about it being a war they must lose. Watson 
pipes up that Emelia was dying already because her body showed 
signs of "consumption". They both conclude that that would have 
made her decision to martyr herself easier. She drew on her 
knowledge of the "secret societies of America"...
   Chrissy: You can say the KKK.
   Diandra: No, we have to call them "Alt Right" now.
...and used their intimidation tactics against Eustace 
Carmichael. 


Molly pipes up suddenly from the group that Eustace knew her 
from his time in the states. He basically made all sorts of 
promises to her, "had his way with her" and dumped her like a 
hot coal. Holmes has a flash of Molly slapping the shit out of 
him back in the modern day, followed by a memory of her 
standing over Ricoletti's body in her shitty disguise. Watson 
is like 'by the way, I didn't fall for that disguise, which 
makes me smarter than you in at least this instance.' His 
gloating is cut short as his maid peeks out from behind another 
woman and waves at him. Then Janine (remember her from the last 
episode?) steps out to say that Emelia really thought she'd 
found happiness with Mr. Ricoletti, but it turned out he was an 
asshole too. 
   Chrissy: He led her on all the way up to proposing to 
    her, but it turned out he was just using her to get to 
    her employer. 
   Diandra: Oh, come on. I thought we agreed we were cool. 
    I NEARLY DIED.

We fast forward through the whole fake affair just in case 
viewers don't remember who she is. Watson says but...they saw 
the bride after all of this. Holmes says yes, it turns out the 
breaking glass wasn't a window. It was  pane the women were 
using to create a ghostly effect. They accidentally broke it 
when they were trying to move it after they had finished the 
trick. Once Emelia had established the legend of a vengeful 
ghost bride, ANY of the women in the room could play the part 
to scare any man who wronged them. "A specter to stalk those 
unpunished brutes whose reckoning is long overdue." 

We flash back to a couple of the hauntings and find out it was 
Molly scaring John in the Ricoletti house. Sherlock rambles 
about their killer being "single minded" and having firsthand 
knowledge of what sort of asshole Eustace was. She would only 
have told those closest to her, which included Emelia, who he 
had an affair with. As he's talking, somebody in a veiled 
wedding dress comes up behind him. He finishes his reveal as 
the person stops at his side: since it cannot possibly be a 
ghost, there can only be one possible suspect...Lady 
Carmichael. He turns to "her", but she doesn't react or lift 
the veil. He continues that there's one thing he still doesn't 
understand: why did she bother to hire him to try to stop a 
murder she herself wanted to commit? Moriarty's voice snorts 
from behind the veil that OF COURSE it doesn't make sense 
because NONE OF THIS IS REAL. He pulls up the veil and talks 
about how very ridiculous this whole costume drama thing is. 
Watson asks what's going on. His face blurs and a light kind of 
waves around him like his real, modern day counterpart is 
waving a flashlight in Sherlock's face and Sherlock is 
incorporating it into the fantasy. Moriarty keeps taunting, 
repeating that it's crazy because it's not real and he's 
dreaming. The illusion cracks and Sherlock sees Mary on the 
next pass of the light, still sitting in her airplane seat, 
asking if Sherlock is dreaming or something. 
   Chrissy: Nooooooooooon, je ne regrette 
   rieeeeeeeeeennnnnn.

And then Sherlock is lying on a bed and John is hovering over 
him, checking pupil response. Mycroft, sitting on the other 
side of the bed, asks if this is what Sherlock calls 
"controlled usage". Sherlock announces that he needs to know 
where Emelia Ricoletti is buried. Mycroft says what...the woman 
who died over a century ago? Seriously? John makes a half-
hearted attempt to hold Sherlock down as he heaves himself out 
of bed. Mycroft says it would take him weeks to find Emelia's 
grave even with the resources he has available to him. "Got 
it," Mary announces from where she's typing into her phone in 
the corner. Heh. Seriously, I like her.

So they get a police escort to the graveyard. John asks how 
this is relevant to...uh...anything. Sherlock says he needs to 
find out if he was right. John reminds him that none of that 
actually happened. It was all in his head. Sherlock says no, 
the CRIME itself was real. The investigation conducted by 
Victorian versions of all of them was just the ridiculous 
fantasy framework he used to solve it across time. John asks 
what, exactly, he's hoping to find here. Sherlock snaps at him 
that he needs to at least TRY, damnit.

So they find the headstone identifying Emelia as a beloved 
sister and "faithful beyond death". Sherlock just stands over 
it with a shovel as he realizes that this is where the real 
Emelia is buried. He needs to find the fake one they used for 
the initial suicide. John guesses they would have moved it. 
Sherlock says yeah...where? John is like 'what, do you want me 
to conduct a seance so we can ask or something?' "not here". 
Sherlock says they MUST have. "The conspirators had someone on 
the inside. They found a body just like Molly Hooper found a 
body for me when I..." John glares at him like 'you will not 
finish that sentence if you know what's good for you.' Sherlock 
flounders and says yeah, well...I guess we don't need to talk 
about that again. John asks if he's really going to go through 
with this insanity because his obsession with needing to prove 
this is totally the product of his addictive personality 
demanding a "fix" in the form of a puzzle. They actually have a 
case involving Moriarty and it's happening NOW. Sherlock says 
he's GETTING to that if John will just shut up and LET HIM DO 
THIS. John yells that everyone ALWAYS just lets him do whatever 
he wants, which is why he's even IN THIS STATE IN THE FIRST 
PLACE and he's not playing this game anymore. He calms, tells 
Sherlock to call him when he's ready to work on the actual case 
and goes to storm off, grabbing Mary by the arm. "I'm taking 
Mary home," he announces. "You're what," she asks, not moving. 
"Mary's taking me home," he corrects like he never said the 
other thing. She says "better" like 'and don't you forget it' 
and lets him pull her away.
   Chrissy: Must you always one up me in front of our 
    friends?
   Diandra: Well, I wouldn't have to if you didn't keep 
    trying to pretend YOU'RE the boss of ME, which we all 
    know is absurd.

Mycroft, who has been standing off to the side watching, notes 
that John is right. Sherlock snaps that he's ALWAYS right and 
it's "boring". Then he looks at Mycroft and Lestrade - also 
standing silently nearby - and asks if they'll help him.

So we cut to nighttime. Sherlock and Lestrade are standing in a 
several foot deep hole digging while Mycroft stands above them 
holding a flashlight. Because of course he does. Sherlock 
finally hits something solid and they drag the coffin out onto 
the grass. Mycroft still stands by mostly uselessly while they 
pry the lid off to reveal the decayed but still somehow worm 
covered body. It takes a over a hundred and thirty years to 
strip the body to bone? Really? Sherlock feels around the sides 
of the coffin for a second body, which isn't there. He 
theorizes that it was buried UNDER the coffin and jumps back 
into the grave, digging at the dirt with bare hands while 
Lestrade and Mycroft look at each other like 'yeah, he's lost 
it.' Lestrade suggests maybe they got rid of the body some 
other way. Mycroft is like yeah, also, they kind of have better 
things to do right now because Moriarty. Remember that? 'Did 
you miss me?' Sherlock ignores them until a raspy woman's voice 
starts singing "do not forget me." Mycroft points the light at 
the coffin just as the desiccated body seems to sit up and 
fling itself into the grave on top of Sherlock. I say "seems 
to" because for some reason it plays off really badly. Like 
they were starting to run out of special effects budget and 
couldn't even summon up enough to make the body so much as 
twitch so they just jolted the camera around a little and flung 
something vaguely skeletal looking at Benedict from off camera. 

And Sherlock wakes up on the ground in the rain, dressed in 
Victorian clothing. Because apparently it hadn't gotten weird 
enough for him yet. "Oh, I see," he grumbles. "Still not awake, 
am I?"
   Chrissy: Yes, but what level of the dream are you on 
    now? Also, just to be clear...your subconscious freely 
    admits that I'm always right?
   Diandra: Yeah, luckily you'll never actually find out 
    about that, John.
The camera pans out to show that he is on a ledge next to the 
Reichenbach Falls. And Moriarty is hovering in the shadows 
nearby. We linger on this shot for a while as the main theme 
plays across the soundtrack, presumably so Mofftiss can have 
their fanboy moment. Also, possibly to linger on the special 
effects moment the budget was blown on. And then Moriarty says 
"too deep, Sherlock. Way too deep."
   Chrissy: I mean, normally I wouldn't complain but I was 
    WAY underprepared for this.
   Diandra: That's not my fault. You saw the size of my 
    pistol back at the flat. You knew what you were getting 
    into. 
   Chrissy: I'll say it again, Dee: I am so proud of you.

Sherlock heaves himself upright while Moriarty congratulates 
him on possibly becoming the first man to ever be buried in his 
own mind palace. Sherlock just waves at the falls and asks if 
Moriarty thinks this setting is just a bit "melodramatic". 
Moriarty thinks it's perfect for them, actually. Sherlock 
glares at him and asks what he is, exactly, because Moriarty is 
dead. Moriarty says yeah, well, I can still live in the deepest 
recess of your memory and haunt your nightmares, princess.
   Chrissy: Though considering you imagine me breaking into 
   your flat and sleeping on your bed I'm guessing it isn't 
   your NIGHTMARES I'm featuring in. 

Moriarty reminds Sherlock that he once referred to his brain as 
a hard drive and suggests he is the virus. Um...no. A virus 
would damage normal functioning in some significant way. You're 
more like an annoying adbot that won't go away no matter how 
many times Sherlock tries to delete it. That's malware at best. 
Then he goes back to the reason they are next to the falls: 
this has always been their end game. They always wind up here. 
In every reality. Sherlock smirks and concedes that Moriarty is 
a brilliant man - almost as brilliant as he is himself. But 
he's pretty sure he's crap at unarmed combat while standing on 
the edge of a slippery cliff. Moriarty is like 'oh, really?' 
and karate chops him in the throat (knocking his deerstalker 
right off), then slams him into the wall of the cliff before he 
can catch his breath. Sherlock manages to knee him in the 
stomach, then punch him when he reels back. Moriarty taunts 
that Sherlock thinks he's so BIG and STRONG, but he's not 
impressed.
   Chrissy: Well, I am, actually, but that's a whole other 
   thing.
He punches Sherlock. Sherlock takes a swing at him and Moriarty 
blocks it and punches him in the stomach. Sherlock hits the 
ground and Moriarty looms over him, screaming about being his 
greatest weakness and "there every time you fail" as he kicks 
him in the face and punches him in the chest. Then he invites 
Sherlock to stop fighting it and "lie back and lose".
   Chrissy: You have some really twisted kinks, man.
   Diandra: Shut up and hit me again.
   Chrissy: I...wow. I just got the strongest feeling of 
    deja vu.

Sherlock manages to stand up again and they grapple at the edge 
for a bit. Moriarty suggests they go over the edge together 
because that's the way it has to be, right? Just the two of 
them. Alone at the end. Mano a mano. So of course this is 
John's cue to suddenly appear behind Moriarty and cock his gun 
loudly. Because as was illustrated a couple times in this 
episode including the little defensive move Chrissy pointed out 
with Eustace, Sherlock trusts John to defend him or, failing 
that, come to his rescue. Because of course he would. He always 
has. 
   Chrissy: Though it would be nice if you didn't welcome 
    danger so often. And DEFINITELY do not openly invite it 
    just to test this theory.
   Diandra: Wouldn't dream of it. Of course, if Mary dies 
    and leaves a long-winded, soppy note instructing me to 
    for some unfathomable reason, I can't really promise 
    anything.

John orders Moriarty to step away from Sherlock. "That's not 
fair, there's two of you," Moriarty whines. John says there's 
always two of them. "Don't you read The Strand?"
   Chrissy: Okay then, why wasn't he in the one with the 
    dog?
   Diandra: Oh, shut up.
He tosses Sherlock's hat at him. Sherlock sort of shrugs and 
plops the sodden mess back on his head. John orders Moriarty to 
get on his knees.
   Chrissy: Oh, well...if you insist.
   Diandra: You don't need to put quite such an over-the-
    top suggestive tone in your voice, Chris. It doesn't 
    come across in type.

Moriarty kneels and laces his hands behind his head. "Thank 
you, John," Sherlock says like 'well, I had it under control, 
but thanks anyway.' John asks when Sherlock started calling him 
by his first name. Right because we're supposed to be in 
Victorian times again. "You'd be surprised," Sherlock smirks. 
   Chrissy: There's another alternate reality in here 
    somewhere where we're already fucking, isn't there?
   Diandra: ...........maybe.
John tells Sherlock he should probably wake up now. When 
Sherlock looks surprised, he reminds him that he's a 
storyteller. He knows when he's in a story. He asks what the 
OTHER version of him is like. "Smarter than he looks," Sherlock 
says fondly.
   Chrissy: Also sexier than he thinks. Especially when he 
   gets all bossy Captain on somebody. 
John notes that he must be pretty smart then. Sherlock smiles 
and agrees that he's "pretty damn smart". Moriarty makes a 
gagging noise and suggests they elope already or something 
because this is NAUSEATING.
   Chrissy: Not that I'm jealous or anything.
   Diandra: Keep telling yourself that.
Sherlock and John grumble for a bit about Moriarty being 
"impertinent" and "offensive" and then John kicks Moriarty over 
the ledge. I can't be quite sure, but I think John and Sherlock 
might be Mofftiss right here and Moriarty is a surrogate for 
the fans clinging to the idea of them becoming a couple. That 
might just be hindsight talking. 

John asks how Sherlock really plans to wake up from this.
   Chrissy: Do I have to play some Edith Piaf or can I just 
   slap you and scream "WAKE UP" until you snap out of it?
Sherlock thinks about it for half a second and steps up onto 
the ledge Moriarty was just kicked from. John asks if he's sure 
about that.
   Chrissy: I mean, we could just stay here. Maybe look for 
    the throughway to that other reality where we're 
    already a couple...
   Diandra: That's just...reality. In the alternate one in 
    here we're also fucking.
   Chrissy: Good answer.
Sherlock assures John that he will always survive the fall. 
John asks how. Sherlock, continuing the great tradition of not 
answering questions that Mofftiss have established, just says 
"elementary, my dear Watson." Because we had to shoehorn that 
in SOMEWHERE. Then he tosses his hat over the falls and swan 
dives after it.

Sherlock gasps awake back on the plane, which, remember, he has 
never left because his mind palace functions like a multi-
layered dream world. He smiles up at John and asks "miss me?" 
John and Mary are both hovering over him. John worriedly asks 
if he's okay. Mary adds that it's quite possible he just OD'd 
on whatever terrifying cocktail he shot himself up with and he 
should REALLY be in a hospital. Sherlock scoffs that he has no 
time for that because "Moriarty is back". He gets up and 
stumbles into the aisle, getting all of two feet before running 
into Mycroft. Mycroft grumbles that he almost hopes Moriarty 
really is back "if it will save you from this." He holds up the 
list. Sherlock snatches it and rips it up. He says he has no 
need for that anymore because he has the "real thing": a case 
to solve. Mycroft stops him before he can run off and just says 
"promise me." Sherlock blinks at him, then bristles and asks 
what he's still doing standing there instead of going to get 
him a pardon "like a proper big brother". He shoves past 
Mycroft and gets off the plane. Mary slinks out apologetically 
after him. John goes to follow, but Mycroft stops him. "Look 
after him," he pleads.
   Chrissy: Oh, you mean like I've been doing all along?
John just nods and leaves. Mycroft scoops up the pieces of the 
list and puts it in a small notebook he keeps in his pocket. We 
see that the page the notebook is open to clearly says 
"Redbeard" on it because Mofftiss totally had everything all 
planned out from the beginning and have always known exactly 
what the significance of Redbeard is.
   Chrissy: Sarcasm duly noted.
   Diandra: I'm just saying. They claimed they knew exactly 
    how the ongoing plot of the last few seasons was going 
    to end in "The Final Problem" and then they admit that 
    they basically came up with it while they were filming 
    "His Last Vow" and that's why all the "clues" they're 
    going to point back to come almost exclusively from 
    that episode and this one.
   Chrissy: Haven't we established that they always lie?
   Diandra: Ugh.

Out on the tarmac, John demands Sherlock explain what he meant 
just now about Moriarty being alive. Sherlock says no, he 
didn't say ALIVE, he said BACK. Of course he's not alive. He 
blew his brains out. He's absolutely, completely dead and never 
coming back. 
   Chrissy: But we won't rule out flashbacks or another 
    mind palace thing because apparently fans won't let him 
    die either.
   Diandra: Are you playing Mofftiss now?
   Chrissy: Yeah, why not? I always seem to be role playing 
    villains in these recaps.
That being said, Sherlock says he knows what Moriarty is going 
to do next. They get in the car Mycroft sent and drive off. The 
screen goes black and the theme song plays us into...

...another scene in Sherlock's Victorian alternate reality 
wherein Watson marvels at Holmes' story about flying machines 
and unwired phones. Holmes shrugs that he's simply predicting 
what the future might possibly look like and what their role in 
it might be. This was written by Gatiss, wasn't it? He just 
can't resist pushing a sly reference to the point of 
incoherence and breaking the space/time continuum. They are 
both smoking pipes, the ends of which click noisily on their 
teeth every time they take them out to talk. Holmes asks if 
Watson has written up this last case yet. Watson says yes. 
Holmes is like 'so you presented it as one of my RARE failures, 
right?' Watson is like 'yeah, of course, because god forbid 
your ego should suffer in the slightest.' Holmes starts 
suggesting titles. "The Adventure of the Invisible Army"? "The 
League of Furies"? "The Monstrous Regiment"? Watson says 
actually, he was thinking of "The Abominable Bride". Holmes 
makes a face and calls it "lurid". Watson says yeah, that's why 
it will sell. Also, there are actual murders in it, so that 
should appease the morbid readers. Watson redirects back to the 
little story Holmes just told and asks if that solution he 
injects is really just 7%. He may have overdone it a little. 
Holmes non-answers that he might have been a bit "fanciful", 
but it is a possible future. And he would feel perfectly 
comfortable in it.
   Chrissy: I especially like the part where homophobia 
    isn't a thing anymore so I can finally come out of the 
    closet. 
   Diandra: Yeah, ask me why I am not looking forward to 
    the next few recaps. Go ahead.
Watson chuckles that he doesn't think he would be as 
comfortable. Holmes says he wouldn't be so sure of that. He 
goes over to stand by the window and muses that he has always 
believed himself to be "a man out of his time".

We pan away from the image of him standing at the window with 
his pipe and by the time we get to the street we're back in 
present day and a big red bus is driving by. This time the 
music actually plays us into the credits.

So, as you have probably noticed from the last few pages, we 
had to pause at some point in the process of doing this recap 
to watch season four. My reluctance to start recapping the new 
episodes partly explains why it took me so much longer to 
finish this recap than I have done previous episodes. I know 
that the next three episodes are bound to be a whole lot less 
fun to get through than the previous ten, so I wanted to draw 
this one out a little and get as much enjoyment out of it as I 
could. The fact that I have used recapping this show lately as 
a fun break from recapping the increasingly depressing 
"Torchwood" makes the prospect of going forward with recaps 
especially daunting. This combined with the knowledge that I am 
about to run out of episodes of BOTH of these shows and will 
soon be searching for something else to recap explains the 
following conversation I had with Christine.

   Diandra: We should just do something fun whenever we 
    need to break up the parade of depression. 
   Chrissy: What, like a movie?
   Diandra: Yeah. I started a recap of "Firewall" a long 
    time ago that I never finished. Could maybe pick that 
    up again. Or because we're so used to serialized stuff 
    now we could do one of the Marvel movies or something.
   Chrissy: So "Doctor Strange", basically.
   Diandra: Well, we could do more than the one.
   Chrissy: You want to start recapping movies in the 
    Marvel Cinematic Universe?
   Diandra: We don't have to. I'm sure I could find 
    other...
   Chrissy: No, you do NOT tease me with the possibility of 
    recapping hours of hot guys playing superheroes and 
    then say "never mind". We're DOING THIS.

So I guess we'll see you again in season four of "Sherlock". Or 
"The Avengers". Whichever comes first.