Page 27 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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JOHN (looking away thoughtfully): I’ve seen men die before – and good men, friends of mine.
Thought I’d never sleep again.
(He meets Sherlock’s eyes, his face calm.)
JOHN: I’ll sleep fine tonight.
(Apparently reassured that John really is okay, Sherlock smiles.)
SHERLOCK (softly): Quite right.
JOHN: You were gonna take the damned pill, weren’t you?
SHERLOCK: Course not. Playing for time.
JOHN: No, you weren’t. It’s how you get your kicks, isn’t it? Risking your life to prove you’re
clever.
SHERLOCK: Why would I do that?
JOHN: ’Cause you’re an idiot.
(Sherlock frowns at him for a moment but then smiles, apparently delighted that he has finally
found someone who understands him. John smiles back at him.)
SHERLOCK: Dinner?
JOHN: Starving.
(They turn and start to walk away.)
SHERLOCK: There’s a good Chinese at the end of the road, stays open ’til two. You can always
tell a good Chinese by examining the bottom third of the door handle.
LESTRADE: Oi! Sherlock!
(Rolling his eyes, Sherlock stops and turns to Lestrade as he walks over.)
LESTRADE: Still got questions for you.
JOHN: Er, Inspector Lestrade, to my certain knowledge, this man hasn’t eaten for several days.
(Sherlock stares at him in surprise.)
JOHN (to Lestrade): Now, if you want him alive for your next case, what he’s gonna do right
now is have dinner.
LESTRADE: And who the hell are you?
JOHN (glancing towards Sherlock): I’m his doctor.
SHERLOCK (to Lestrade): And only a fool argues with his doctor.
LESTRADE: Okay, I’ll pull you in tomorrow. Off you go.
JOHN: Thank you.
(The boys turn and walk away, Sherlock smiling proudly at his new friend while John blows out
a relieved breath. Sherlock takes the blanket from around his shoulders.)
SHERLOCK: So: ran after a cab. Told you that limp was psychosomatic.
JOHN: I knew it was.
(They reach the police tape strung across the road and Sherlock lifts it so they can walk
underneath it.)
SHERLOCK: You did get shot, though.
JOHN: Oh, yeah. In the shoulder.
SHERLOCK: Oh!
(Behind them, Lestrade watches them walk away, then looks down to his notebook which he
has taken out again. He tears out the page he had been writing on and screws it up. Back at the
boys, Mrs Hudson has apparently just arrived home and now angrily hurries over to them.)
MRS HUDSON: Sherlock! What have you done to my house?
SHERLOCK: Nothing wrong with your house, Mrs Hudson, which is more than can be said for
the dead serial killer on the first floor.
MRS HUDSON: Dead what?!
SHERLOCK: Good news for London; bad news for your carpet.
(He shoves the blanket into her arms and he and John start to walk away.)
SHERLOCK: Good night, Mrs Hudson.
(She looks down at the blanket, then turns and calls after them.)
MRS HUDSON: I’m not your housekeeper!
(Giggling, John calls over his shoulder.)
JOHN: Night, Mrs Hudson!
(Grinning, the boys continue down the road as Mrs Hudson turns to the police officer manning
the tape.)
MRS HUDSON (angrily): I’m going in.
(Back near the ambulance, Donovan walks over to Lestrade.)
LESTRADE: Sergeant Donovan.
DONOVAN: Sir?
LESTRADE (looking towards the departing boys): We need those two in tomorrow.

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)