Page 47 - SHERLOCK transcripts

46

(John’s eyes flicker downwards before returning to stare ahead of himself, his face set and
struggling to hold back his anger.)
M: You’re not haunted by the war, Doctor Watson ... you miss it.
(He leans closer to him. Reluctantly John’s eyes rise up to meet his.)
M (in a whisper): Welcome back.
(He turns and starts to walk away just as John’s phone trills another text alert.)
M (casually twirling his umbrella as he goes): Time to choose a side, Doctor Watson.
(John stands fixed to the spot for a few seconds, then turns and glances towards the departing
man while, behind John, the car door opens and not-Anthea gets out and walks a few paces
towards him, her attention still riveted to the BlackBerry held in front of her in both hands.)
NOT-ANTHEA: I’m to take you home.
(John half-turns towards her, then stops and takes out his phone to look at the new message. It
reads:

Could be dangerous.
SH

Putting the phone back into his pocket, John holds out his left hand in front of him and studies
the lack of tremor coming from it. He smiles wryly.)
NOT-ANTHEA: Address?
JOHN (turning and walking towards her): Er, Baker Street. Two two one B Baker Street. But I
need to stop off somewhere first.

Later, John opens the door into his bedsit and switches on the light. Walking inside and closing
the door behind him, he goes across to the desk and opens the drawer, taking out his pistol.
Checking the clip, he tucks the gun into the back of the waistband of his jeans and turns to
leave again.

Later again, the car pulls up outside 221B Baker Street. Not-Anthea is still rivetted by whatever
she’s typing on her phone [that must be one heck of a running blog that she’s writing]. John
looks across to her.
JOHN: Listen, your boss – any chance you could not tell him this is where I went?
NOT-ANTHEA (nonchalantly): Sure.
JOHN: You’ve told him already, haven’t you?
(She smiles across to him briefly.)
NOT-ANTHEA: Yeah.
(John nods in resignation and turns to get out of the car but just as he has opened the door, he
turns back to her.)
JOHN: Hey, um ... do you ever get any free time?
(She chuckles.)
NOT-ANTHEA (sarcastically) : Oh, yeah. Lots.
(John waits expectantly. She continues working her phone for a long moment, then turns and
looks at him before allowing her gaze to drift past him to the door of 221B.)
NOT-ANTHEA: ’Bye.
JOHN: Okay.
(He gets out and closes the door, then watches the car pull away before turning and walking
across the pavement to the front door of 221B. He knocks on the door.)

Upstairs in the living room of the flat, Sherlock is lying stretched out on the sofa with his head
towards the window and resting on a cushion. With his jacket off and his shirt sleeves
unbuttoned and pushed up his arms, he has his eyes closed and he is pressing the palm of his
right hand firmly onto the underside of his left arm just below the elbow. After some seconds
his eyes snap open wide and he stares fixedly up towards the ceiling, then he sighs out a noisy
breath and relaxes. John comes through the door, then stops and stares as Sherlock repeatedly
clenches and unclenches his left fist.
JOHN: What are you doing?
SHERLOCK (calmly): Nicotine patch. Helps me think.
(He lifts his right hand to show that he has three round nicotine patches stuck to his arm and it
was these which he was pressing against his skin to release the substances more quickly.)
SHERLOCK: Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain
work.

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)