Page 351 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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(Sherlock raises his fingers around his glass and shrugs to indicate that he’s not bothered
either.)
JOHN: Am I a woman?
(Sherlock looks at him for a second, then snorts laughter. He chuckles for a few moments.)
JOHN: What?
SHERLOCK: Yes.
(Again he tries to straighten himself up on the chair.)
JOHN: Am I ... pretty? (He points up to his Rizla.) This.
(He props his head up on one fist.)
SHERLOCK: Err ... Er, beauty is a construct based entirely on childhood impressions, influences
and role models.
JOHN: Yeah, but am I a pretty lady?
(He blinks owlishly at Sherlock, who leans forward and screws up his eyes to peer at the Rizla.)
SHERLOCK: I don’t know who you are. I don’t know who you’re supposed to be.
JOHN: You picked the name!
SHERLOCK (flailing a hand towards another part of the room): Ah, but I picked it at random
from the papers.
JOHN (slumping back in his seat): You’re not really getting the hang of this game, are you,
Sherlock?
SHERLOCK (raising his eyes towards his own Rizla): So I am human, I’m not as tall as people
think I am ...
(He sits back in the chair.)
SHERLOCK: I’m-I’m nice-ish ...
(John stretches out his socked feet and props them against the front of Sherlock’s chair next to
his friend’s legs.)
SHERLOCK: ... clever, important to some people, but I tend to rub them up the wrong way.
(He laughs with delight.)
SHERLOCK: Got it.
JOHN: Go on, then.
SHERLOCK: I’m you, aren’t I?
(Mrs Hudson knocks on the open door.)
MRS HUDSON: Ooh-ooh!
(The boys look round at her. She is standing in the doorway with a young woman who is
wearing a nurse’s outfit with a cardigan over it.)
MRS HUDSON: Client!
JOHN: Hallo.
SHERLOCK (waving at the woman): Hallo!
(Mrs Hudson turns to go back down the stairs.)
JOHN (gesturing the woman into the room): Come on.
TESSA: Which one of you is Sherlock Holmes?
(Smiling broadly at her, John raises his hand and – whistling a single rising note through his
teeth in time with his hand movement – slowly points up towards the words on Sherlock’s Rizla.
Sherlock grins widely at her.)

Shortly afterwards, the boys have removed the papers from their heads and have relocated to
sit side by side on the sofa. Tessa sits on a dining chair facing them.
TESSA (hesitantly): I don’t ... a lot ... I mean, I don’t ... date all that much ...
(Sherlock sinks back on the sofa and props his head up on his left hand.)
TESSA: ... and ... he seemed ... nice, you know?
(John smiles at her, then blinks slowly, trying to keep his eyes open.)
TESSA: We seemed to automatically connect. We had one night – dinner, such interesting
conversation. It was ... lovely.
(John smiles again and glances briefly towards Sherlock.)
TESSA: To be honest, I’d love to have gone further ...
(Sherlock’s eyes drift closed. He forces them open and shakes his head, sitting up and
withdrawing his right hand from where he had draped it along the back of the sofa behind John.
Your transcriber wibbles and realises that that was probably why John smiled towards him a few
seconds ago.)
TESSA: ... but I thought, ‘No, this is special. Let’s take it slowly ...
(Sherlock leans forward, braces his elbows on his legs and folds his hands in front of his mouth.
John shifts his own position.)

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)