I don't want to write about the thing beginning with S... It hurts too much and makes me hyper ventilate. All I will say is that I'm completely torn and want to have Sherlock begging for mercy. Twice.
No I will say a bit if I may.
Sherlock had the whole scheme planned from the offset. Right back to the moment John got a staged phone call that Mrs Hudson had apparently been shot. He knew it was a set up, but he couldn't let John in on it. And that was the biggest tragedy of them all. Sherlock was so upset and apologetic and tearful at the top of the building because he was having to betray John and say goodbye to him not because he was going to die, but because he wouldn't be able to see him anymore.
I'm so thankful that there is a third series. Goodness knows when or how it will be, but it is going to happen.
In the mean time I'm going to go back to Brettlock, dream about Benedict and his sexy cheekbones and go. To. Sleep.
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