BBC Sherlock Howard, Misplaced - Survive

But he didn't give himself time for self-reflection. Relatively speaking, it's almost impossible to pretend to be unrestrained at this time. John knows that he looks absolutely frustrated, and a good girl like her is still willing to let him stay. Numbers are a miracle.

"Have you run into any trouble?"

Mary sat across from him and asked questions.For a first-time acquaintance, John can be more calm. She will not look at him with annoying concern like them, and she will not use the set of views accepted by most people to explain everything that has happened until now. .

"Me? Nothing."

I'm fine, I'm fine.A roommate running away is not a big deal.

"Okay, but don't be brave, talk to someone you trust, it will be better."

I have a crisis of confidence. John thought gloomily, he hadn't trusted many people before, and even less now.

John smiled hard at Mary.It was a Friday night full of laughter and laughter, but he was like a marionette, every joint was stiff and every movement was heavy.

They waved goodbye to each other at the door of the restaurant. John went west all the way, on the way back to 221B, he was alone, and pedestrians hurried past.

John's footsteps were much faster than before, and he soon came to the familiar door.The landlady wasn't here today, and Sherlock—was an unknown.

The doctor placed the piece of paper on the coffee table, even though the dining table was relatively close to him.It can be said that it is Sherlock's territory, and he will not interfere with the detective's experiments, this is a tacit understanding.

Will he and Mary meet again?Thinking of this, John was a little hesitant, and now he really didn't have that kind of thought.

Before the doctor could make a decision, something else caught his eye.

Sherlock's cell phone lay beside him.

— This is really immoral. John said to himself, his outstretched hand paused in the air, but he didn't move.

He is not usually indecisive, absolutely not.Even in a dilemma, he still has a way to follow his intuition.Even if you are stubborn, even if you are headstrong, you will never do anything against your will.In a soldier's mind, right and wrong are always clear.

John picked up Sherlock's phone and weighed it in his palm.No one has used it for a long time and it has returned to the coldness of the metal. The doctor tried to press the power button, but the screen was locked.

He knew he shouldn't be prying into his roommate's privacy - even though Sherlock didn't seem to care much about it, John was conflicted by this cross-border foul.

The input keyboard on the screen appeared, the cursor flickered, and then dimmed again after a while.

"That's interesting, John." Sherlock grinned lowly as the doctor remembered an idle Friday night, playing with a black phone that he'd reprogrammed, and the little tricks didn't bother him at all.

"I set this phone so that I can only enter the wrong password once a day. Of course, in order to avoid occasional possible mistakes, there is another way to unlock it—that is much more difficult, and only I know it."

"Are you finally starting to value privacy?"

"Of course not. I'm going to show Mycroft a taste of frustration. I can't stand every time he guesses the password within three times. Even Mycroft can't guess it right once. Only I know how to unlock it."

Sherlock sounds like he's winning, and he's full of blood.The doctor on the side was a little helpless:

"So the entertainment between you brothers is to guess each other's unlock code?"

"Yes. This is just one of the many options for pastime."

"Have you ever won?"

The detective looked a little sullen and a little frustrated.He replied, "Just once or twice. 'You know, I've always been the smarter one.'"

He says that every time. "

"...Then, do you think I'll guess right?"

Of course John knew the answer to that question, it was impossible.If even Mycroft had to guess three times, he could guess three months without a result.

As expected, the detective raised the corners of his lips slightly, "John, I'm different from you, I don't use simple combinations like birthdays or names, it doesn't make sense at all."

The temperature of John's palm made the metal shell heat up.He pressed the power button again, and the screen flickered on.The doctor typed in: 221B.

"Password error. Remaining input times for this day: 0"

The screen went dark.

Sherlock has been trying to observe, but as Irene said, his knowledge of the room is really limited.His situation was not like the real world, the place was too grand, as if he was just a guest waiting to meet his host.

After he identified the material of the wool on all the fabrics, the figure of the woman appeared at the door.

"Are you bored?" she asked.

"In a way, yes."

"Want to hear a story?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, just because he was now a caged ape, and he had to be treated like this - teased like a three-year-old?

His tone was flat: "You're just trying to get my attention."

"Mr. Holmes, I'm afraid you are raising your own value," the woman replied, "I don't have to do that. You will naturally pay attention to my words and deeds. I am your only hope and reliance."

"That makes sense." Sherlock began to observe the wood grain on the low cabinet, maybe he could write a date on it.

"Okay, you're boring me too." Irene leaned forward and said with great interest, "Why don't we play a game?"

"I am not interested."

"Don't say that. In order to show my sincerity, I will tell you the content of the game first—no, let's take it easy. Let's discuss an interesting thing. You must be interested."

"I do not think so."

"How about this—I saw your interaction in the living room one night, and you kissed the doctor goodnight? It was raining that day, so romantic."

Sherlock's eyes widened when he heard that - hell!How is this going?

"I'll solve your doubts now, Mr. Holmes." Irene was very sure that she had seen through him, and smiled mockingly: "You don't know that Moriarty installed a surveillance camera in your apartment until now, did you? I was also in his Just stumbled into his office after he died. Did you know that the biggest security breach between you and Dr. Watson is that lovely landlady? I really applaud you for the romantic scene you put on in the living room."

An interaction like that was just a crazy mistake, an over-indulgence.

Sometimes he can't help himself.But there won't be a next time, never.

That's really—so cunning. Sherlock thought, neither Moriarty nor this woman in front of him was a good guy.

"Oh, Dr. Watson injured a small policeman a few days ago, I think it was for you, he snatched your cell phone from the policeman, it is really touching."

"So? What do you want?" Sherlock asked impatiently, already anxious, worried—bad, that's exactly what she wanted.

"I knew this method would work, and you have no possibility of refusing."

"Don't talk nonsense with me."

The woman looked at him contemptuously - as if Sherlock was begging her for something.

"So, let's make a rule. As long as you perform well, I will give you some rewards--I will show you a 30-second video before the monitor in your apartment is removed. In other words, the 30 Seconds will be the only way for you to know what's going on with your roommate."

""good performance?""

"It depends on my mood. The only thing you can decide is how you face me."

—God.I have never begged for anything in my life, and I don't know what flattery is.

"If I don't—"

"No ifs, Mr. Holmes. You're at my place, not the little apartment, so be nice. By the way, I can call you Sherlock—or, Sherl?"

"..." Sherlock turned his head to one side, still weighing the pros and cons.

"So that's it, Sherl." Irene's aggressiveness didn't make Sherlock react, and she continued, "To prove that I didn't mean what I said, let you watch the video first."

The detective swore he hated the way he was being treated.But now there is no other way but forbearance.

Irene pressed a few times quickly on the phone screen and pushed it in front of the detective.

"This is a real-time image, don't say I treat you badly."

——Yes, it really was him, unmistakable.

John looked overtired, he seemed to be resting on the sofa with his eyes closed.The doctor was dressed in casual attire for going out, and he had either just arrived home or was about to go out - Sherlock saw him open his eyes, which he was almost sure bloodshot.It's just that the quality of the monitor is not good, that's all he can see.

John straightened up, but his steps dragged, a self-evident stagnation.

He pushed the door out and disappeared from the screen.

Where will John go?What was it that made him exhausted?What has he been doing lately?Is it day or night?Did he call the police?

Sherlock cursed inwardly, damn it, he couldn't think about it anymore.If that's the case, it's in line with this woman's wishes.

"Brother, it's not a good thing to care too much." Mycroft's face flashed across his mind, it seemed that he needed to keep these words in his heart.

As expected of someone who's been around Moriarty, stepping on his weaknesses with precision.

"Unfortunately, 30 seconds is up."

Sherlock knew he was at a disadvantage and seemed to be getting caught - no.

It's a fair game.

What's more important - John must not be harmed in the slightest.

This is the code Sherlock has always followed, and perhaps, why he got here.