save Sherlock

It was late at night, and 221B Baker Street was still brightly lit, and the curtains reflected a few figures...

Irene sat on the chair motionless, Mycroft looked at Irene expressionlessly with his arms folded, Sherlock sat on the sofa with his legs crossed, Watson leaned against the wall and looked at the almost petrified three .

"Someone of us can unlock the password of your phone." Mycroft suddenly broke the oppressive atmosphere.

Irene smiled disdainfully: "Who? My phone has been in Sherlock's hands for six months and he hasn't opened it."

"We can take apart your phone." Mycroft picked up Irene's phone to have a look, then threw it on the table casually.

"Sherlock, can you tell him the structure of my mobile phone?" Irene said slowly, looking back at the back at the next intersection.

"Her phone has a self-destruct device, if you force her to tell you the password, she will also tell you the one that activates the self-destruct." Sherlock said without turning his head.

Mycroft changed his sitting position, looked at Irene with some breakdowns and said, "We won't agree to your conditions."

"I hope you think about it, I have more than just those photos on my phone."

"What else?" Mycroft said calmly, "Are you lying to me?"

"It's up to you to lie or not. Do you dare to bet Mycroft?"

Such a situation made Mycroft helpless, although he was not reconciled, but he still tried his best to bear it: "Okay, I promise you."

"Thank you for your generosity." Erin stood up with a smile and picked up the documents on the table.

Sherlock stood up suddenly and blocked Irene's way: "Although John insists that there is no emotion in the hard disk of my brain, it is very simple to understand the boring chemical reaction of love."

"What are you talking about?" Irene smiled disdainfully, and stroked Sherlock's face pityingly: "You mean I'm in love with you? Are you already so arrogant?"

"I've been trying to figure out a problem for the past few days." Sherlock looked at Watson carelessly, and found that Watson was still bowing his head, so he continued to say to Irene: "In my opinion, love is not a thing. What puzzles, there is nothing in this world that can confuse me."

"Really?" Irene increased the strength in her hands, and looked at Sherlock very sympathetically: "But you lost."

Watson still hung his head, wanting to block the conversation between the two...

Sherlock is obsessed with it?Is this woman so good?

Well... Irene made you understand what love is?I really want to applaud Miss Irene, Sherlock can reinstall the love software. This has to be said to be a major change for mankind. Is the third world war coming?

Sherlock really wanted to know what Watson was thinking, but Watson kept his head down. He couldn't see the expression and couldn't judge whether Watson was listening. Although love is not a puzzle, the equation in it is worth deliberating.

Sherlock withdrew his thoughts, looked at Irene and said affirmatively: "Love can invade people's brains and control people's behavior. You can set countless passwords, but you can't control your own brains, because love will dominate people's will. If this is Love is indeed dangerous."

"You..." Irene's face changed, and she looked at Sherlock in panic: "No, I didn't..."

"Your pulse speeds up, pupils dilate... when you look at me." Sherlock curled his lips in disdain: "It's a boring love chemical reaction, isn't it?"

"You...you can't..."

"Some things are out of control, although I don't want to admit it, but..." Sherlock glanced at Watson quietly again, saw that Watson still had no response, then secretly sighed, picked up Irene's mobile phone, and entered his name.

Irene looked at Sherlock in disbelief. When Sherlock entered the password, she took two steps forward in a daze. She staggered and almost hit Sherlock's back. She hurriedly stabilized herself.

But Sherlock didn't give her any chance to speak. When the mobile phone password was deciphered, Irene's face was ashen...

"Hope this can make up for the trouble I caused." Sherlock staggered away from Irene's body, walked straight to Mycroft, and handed him the phone.

Mycroft smiled gratifiedly, and after taking the phone, he looked at Irene proudly: "It seems that you have to go with us."

Irene swallowed in fear, red blood immediately covered the whites of her eyes, a tear suddenly fell out of her eye socket, and slid down her cheek to the corner of her mouth. She looked helplessly at Sherlock: "Do you want me to beg you?"

"Yes."

"I beg you." With humiliation and heartache in her eyes, Irene slowly spit out words she had never said in her life.

Sherlock turned his back to Irene and wanted to say something, but suddenly paused...

If it's just a game, then I've turned the tables now, and Irene has taught me what love is, so I won't be disappointed if there is no hope.

...Thinking about it this way, Irene isn't that hateful.Seems like this isn't good for a woman who has lost everything.

Sherlock turned around slowly, walked up to Irene, bent down and whispered in her ear, "Thank you."

Erin wiped away her tears, leaving the last trace of dignity, and looked up at Sherlock in doubt: "What?"

"...I say thank you."

Although still confused, Erin looked at Sherlock as calmly as possible: "I don't want to die."

"You are indeed a good opponent." A trace of regret flashed in Sherlock's eyes, then he turned around slowly, walked to the window and let Mycroft take Irene away.

Watson didn't want to admit how he felt at this time, but when he saw Sherlock leaning over and whispering in Irene's ear, he felt uncomfortable. This woman must be special to Sherlock. This is an unchangeable fact. After all This woman is indeed powerful enough for anyone to appreciate...

But there are some things that are easy to accept intellectually, but difficult to be compatible emotionally... For example, now I have to boil milk for Sherlock before going to bed!

"John, I have something to tell you." Sherlock lowered his head and crossed his fingers awkwardly.

"What?" Watson poured the milk into the pot and boiled it slowly over low heat.

"I..." Sherlock was about to speak when Watson interrupted him.

"I was wrong."

"what?"

Watson turned to look at Sherlock, and said sincerely: "I want to say that I was wrong." Your solution to Irene showed me your reason. Even if you are temporarily confused, you will find yourself again, so I What was said earlier should be taken back. "

"You don't think I'm fascinated by love anymore?"

"Of course, otherwise Sherlock Holmes, the only consulting detective in the world to entangle with love, is that the prelude to the Third World War?"

"You mean I shouldn't fall in love or fall in love with someone?" Sherlock felt cold and stared at Watson closely.

"No, of course you can..." Watson paused: "Actually, you are lonely, right? I overlooked that you are also afraid of loneliness, otherwise how could you fall into Irene's trap."

"Why am I afraid of being alone?" Sherlock smiled in disbelief as if hearing a joke.

"It's not that I'm afraid, it's that my heart will become helpless if I stay for a long time, and I will seek redemption at this time..." Watson paused: "Can't you explain your feelings for Irene? Then you will return to your The analysis you are best at, Sherlock, you may be impeccable in IQ and analysis of things, but you still can't understand some things."

"How is it possible?" Sherlock looked at Watson negatively. If he couldn't understand, then what did he figure out about the relationship between John?

"But..." Watson looked at Sherlock and said, "This is you, the unique Sherlock Holmes. You don't need to understand human emotions. Maybe it's just a bunch of data and equations in your eyes, but this is you. I'm proud to have friends like you."

"Oh, do you think so?" Sherlock said a little at a loss, "What about you?"

"Me?" Watson frowned suspiciously.

"Yes... What about you? If I think love is a series of equations, what about you?"

Watson was taken aback for a moment, then turned to turn off the gas, found a cloth, picked up the pot, and slowly poured milk into the cup...

what is love?What Sherlock asked was really a difficult problem, how could he have such a thing as love.

But what happened to himself to Sherlock?

This doesn't feel like friendship is bad, so is it... love?

Watson was taken aback by his own thoughts, and when he came back to his senses, he saw the milk in the cup overflowing, and he hurriedly put down the pot.

"Oh!" Sherlock immediately picked up the rag and threw it on the table to dry the milk: "My question is so difficult to answer?"

Watson put down his glass and watched Sherlock busy on the stove, he was a little speechless: "No, I can't fall in love with anyone."

"Hmm." Sherlock pretended to be relaxed, "Why?"

"Maybe when you get married, I will find a good girl like Jasmine, and then I will have my own... home."

It is very strange when we talk about the word "home". If we say where the world is most like home, then Watson will definitely say that the studio where the kitchen is always full of chemicals and the living room is always full of case materials is home.

... There is no doubt about this, 221B Baker Street is home, if you can, it is best not to leave forever, but if Sherlock is gone, then all this is meaningless.

So if Sherlock wanted to leave or terminate their direct relationship, he had to find another place like home.

Sherlock turned around suddenly, put down the rag in his hand, looked at Watson and asked, "Do you like Jasmine?"

"If you need a home, then a girl like Jasmine is undoubtedly the most suitable."

"Would you need another home?"

It was odd that Sherlock was talking about another home, but Watson joked, "Maybe it needs to be."

"I won't need it, because this is my home." Sherlock said firmly.

"..." Watson looked at Sherlock strangely, as if something was wrong with Sherlock today: "Hmm...a home full of chemicals? Do you know what a home is?"

Sherlock thought about it seriously, but he didn't seem to understand, and said angrily, "Anyway, you understand best."

Speaking of Sherlock stuffing the milk into Watson's hands, and leaving the kitchen without looking back, Watson looked at Sherlock in doubt and helplessness... Sometimes Sherlock is difficult to understand, because his thinking mode is always innovating.

The author has something to say: This is a sad story ＿(:з"∠)＿... Juan Fu, the direction of your love research needs to be improved QAQ