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BBC SH - Reunion - Mrs HudsonThe door clicked closed with a barely audible noise.Mrs Hudson let her shopping bags drop to the floor, sighing as her tired arms gained relief for the first time since she'd left the shop.Above her 221B felt shadowy and cold.Empty.It always did.Oh well, she was old. She had lost many. She knew better than to dwell upon the past.But it would be dishonest to deny that she still felt the painful little tugs on her heart whenever she thought of her boys.Her poor lovely boys.She sighed. She was being maudlin again.Her joints were aching with the damp of the persistent January rain which numbed her toes and chilled her to her bones so she reluctantly hauled her bags up again and waddled awkwardly through to 221C.She needed a cup of tea.She paused as she reached her door.It was partly ajar.She bit down a moment of panic, shaking her head miserably. She could have sworn she had closed it.Must be going senile. Oh dear, oh dear . . . It was all downhill from here. Next thing she'd
BBC SH - Reunion - LestradeHis phone rang.Lestrade sighed and reached for it, noticing how Donovan looked over her shoulder at him from where she was driving the car. "Hello?""Sir," He recognised Evelyn's voice. Young, relatively new, he had recognised her potential when she first joined and helped her learn the ropes. As such Sergeant Evelyn 'Evie' Makepeace was fiercely loyal to him.Even now after everything that had happened.He sighed. "I'm not 'Sir' anymore Evie. I'm just Greg, remember?"To her credit, Donovan tried not to look too smug at that."Whatever you say, Sir." Evie said, slightly darkly. "You need to get back, Sir. Fast.""Why? What's wrong?""Someone you need to see.""Who?"" . . . You'll want to see for yourself, Sir.""Wha . . . Look, alright . . . We're an hour and fifteen minutes away. Tell whoever it is they might want to go away and come back later."There was a pause."He said he'd wait."Lestrade frowned. That did sound odd. Informers never lingered long at the Yard for fear they mig
BBC SH - Reunion - MycroftThe Diogenes Club was old. The dark wood panelling and the high ceilings marking it out as a relic of a bygone era.Rather like many of its inhabitants.And like every old thing, it was a bit battered around the edges.Normally, Mycroft Holmes saw the grandeur and the glory of the building's past.But today, in the gloom of January with the rain pattering with insistent consistency against the window, Mycroft found it hard to ignore the flaking paint and chipped wood surrounding him.But then again, the entire world seemed a little bit tarnished now.He sat in the window seat, a glass of brandy cradled in his lax fingers, gazing numbly down at the hooded and umbrella-d figures hurrying along in the street outside.The door opened and closed quietly; informing him that someone else had entered The Stranger's Room.He raised his brandy to his lips and gave it a sip.The figure moved towards the window, following Mycroft's line of sight.They stood in silence for a moment.Then a low voic
LostThe two men were relaxing on the leather sofa, the sun seeping in through the moth-nibbled curtains. Particles of dust floated aimlessly through the air.It was a lazy Wednesday.No cases.No good programs on the telly.No nothing.The overall atmosphere was quite dismal and warm."I'm scared."Sherlock paused before responding.Nothing to deduce. Nothing to pick apart."Why? You afraid I hid another cow appendix in your dresser? 'Cause I didn't."John smiled faintly at the joke. Even though it wasn't a joke. There had been a cow appendix in his dresser before. He wasn't very fond of it."No, no...it's not that."Sherlock leaned his head back and gazed up at the ceiling. "Let's see...you've been abducted, covered from head to toe in semtex, run through the streets of scary-ole-London at midnight while being chased by the police, been in the army, shot and killed a man...what does that leave?"John looked blankly over at the window, gripping Sherlock's arms he had wrapped around him tig