Baker Street Check-In Record [Sherlock Holmes]

After the cold towel touched her forehead again, Cecily became a little conscious, and she was almost relieved when she heard that they wanted to find a doctor to find Moran.

Hope I can last a little longer.

After being in a daze for an unknown amount of time, the door opened again, someone was talking, and Cecily frowned uncomfortably.

Man, can't you change a towel for her?The towels were almost scalding.

Someone was calling her Sylvester.

Only one person would call her that.

She didn't know if it was a dream, but she showed a sweet and annoying smile.

Seemingly hearing his sigh, Cecily struggled to wake up, feeling that she was hugged in her arms, and there was a strange but familiar smell lingering at the tip of her nose, but she couldn't open her eyes and could only lean on it.

It seems to remember something, it seems to be like this a long time ago.

She asked him in a low voice, "Is that you?"

no answer.

She didn't know if her tears fell, and the grievance finally got some relief, and she became even more aggrieved because of his ignorance.As if floating in the clouds, her mind is quite clear, yet quite chaotic.

"Am I a bit heavy?"

Still no one answered her.

She moved, as if she wanted to get up, but she didn't have much strength, but at least she still had some sense. She didn't call out his name, but carefully leaned her head on his shoulder.

She seemed to be able to hear some heartbeats, but she couldn't tell who the heartbeat belonged to.

Sherlock cursed inwardly, hating why his speed wasn't fast enough, couldn't be faster, faster.

Along the way, he attracted the attention of some people, but these self-proclaimed noble people would not discuss gossip right away, they just lowered their heads and pretended not to see him.

Kawei has already ordered the carriage and is waiting there.

"Go to the nearest mission hospital."

He heard himself speaking in someone else's voice.

This posture is not good for getting on the carriage.

"Can you stand for a while?" He whispered in her ear, "I'll go up first and then pull you up."

He carefully put Cecily down, her arms were still around his neck, and he saw her face so close, it was sickly red and trembling with crystal tears.

She shouldn't be so vulnerable.

And when she was so vulnerable, he wanted to hug her.

Suddenly, he was reluctant to let go, wanted to get closer to her, and also didn't want to get too close to her in front of other people's faces.

This thought was only for a moment, and Sherlock flipped onto the car nimbly, and then stretched out a hand to support her steadily.

Cecily held the skirt in one hand and stepped on the pedals, and his big hand clamped down on her slender arms. She suddenly remembered how he was easily lifted by one hand on the rooftop, and she showed a silly smile.

Suddenly there was the sound of horseshoes in the dark night, accompanied by a gunshot——

Before Sherlock could react, he was slammed down!

"Kawi! Stop them!"

Kawei didn't understand what happened for a moment, and the coachman was kicked down by 'Mr. Moran' who had just stabilized his body!The horse was frightened, neighed, and started running on the deserted long street!

The oncoming Moran's carriage had to veer slightly to avoid the rampage of the crazy horse. Seeing this, Moran grabbed the rein from the driver's hand without hesitation. Another shot!

Sherlock put down the person in his arms very quickly, opened the curtain of the carriage, and saw his friend putting away his gun and running to the other side - terribly!He gritted his teeth, climbed out of the carriage and took control of the reins!

Go straight to the hospital!

His heart seemed to be trapped and tightened by an invisible net, even bleeding.

His girl got shot because of him, and he still has blood on his hand, dried, from her.

>>>>>>>>

Watson didn't sit obediently in the bar. When the door of Phil's British Indian Club opened, he paid the bill and left the bar, waiting to report the news at any time. He didn't just stand still in place— —This would make him too conspicuous—but pretended to be drunk and walked in the direction Holmes had said before.

After walking a few steps, he carefully turned his head to observe the situation. After seeing 'Mo Lan' coming out with a girl in his arms, Watson heaved a sigh of relief and planned to call a carriage to leave.At this moment, another carriage came oncoming, and Watson's intuition developed on the battlefield took effect at the same moment. With his good eyesight, he recognized the real Colonel Moran at a glance——

What should I do?

He was about to run back almost subconsciously. He knew that his task was to report the news, but he knew better that far water could not save a nearby fire!

But Moran's gun ran faster than him!

Watson watched the horse lose control, and immediately made a decision-he drew his gun and fired at Colonel Moran's coachman!Then quickly hide into the side alley!

Hell, I knew something would happen with Holmes!

Two gunshots accompanied by the horse's frightened neighing quickly caused commotion on the street. Seeing Holmes' horse disappearing into the night, Watson ran away. Mr. No. is delivering the letter!

"Kawy! Go after the shooter!"

"Mo, Mr. Moran?!"

"You idiot!"

Watson had already crossed the alley, and when he reached the intersection at the other end, he jumped into the carriage——

"To Maddington Street! Quickly!"

12 Maudington High Street.

"I thought the whole world knew I was autistic," Mycroft tapped impatiently on the table, "so—"

"I know that's just an excuse for your boredom, Mike," Leslie said with a grim look on his face, "I've tried to keep my visit as low-key as possible."

"Sitting in Sylvester Manor and waiting for good news is what you should do—!" Mycroft drew his tone angrily, "It seems that you don't trust your friends."

"Autistic people have no friends," Leslie said with a strange expression. "That's how you rejected the Prime Minister's friendly hand."

If Mycroft had a cane in his hand he would have taken it and tapped his friend: "The keeper of Phil's British and Indian Club is mine."

Leslie was silent.

"So can you go back to your manor in your ridiculous nightsuit and continue to be your master, Leslie?" Mycroft said sleepily.

In fact, Mycroft has been very busy - very busy, from the bill law to the kidnapping of Cecily, the suspension of business at Sylvester Manor seems to be another signal to some self-proclaimed smart people, Les. In the absence of benefits and inaction, Mycroft had to intensify his work.

Hell, he doesn't like cleaning up messes for his friends.

Someone knocked on the door.

Leslie didn't move.

Mycroft kicked Leslie, and Leslie reluctantly got up and hid in the study.

Only then did Mycroft himself open the door and let the man in.

"Sir, someone from the club has sent a letter. The lady is sick. Bourne went to call the doctor, and we sent our own doctor in," the loyal assistant relayed the message he received, "When will we action?"

"Did they notify Moran?" Mycroft snorted softly, knowing that his assistant had already relayed everything he knew, so there are always people who are stupid and don't even know what is more important to pass on the news .

"Sure, Kawhi always wants to tell Moran all the trivial things," Mycroft didn't mind saying this, not to his assistant, but to him who was hiding behind the door friend, "Molan will definitely visit at the first time, and when Moran leaves, I will bring her out directly. After I bring her out, tell Bourne not to go back, I need him here."

Going back can only be a dead end. After he used this person, he knew that the possibility of this person staying was almost zero.

The assistant nodded yes, and left in a hurry.

After the door was closed, Mycroft went to the door to confirm that the assistant had indeed left, and then knocked on the door of the study: "I think you can go back to the manor in your funny night clothes."

Leslie's voice was a bit aggrieved: "No, my sister is sick, and I'm so worried."

"Don't you really hide from that Miss Joshua?" Mycroft's brain circuit was never straight, "In fact, I really don't think she is a suitable girl for marriage, but it is undeniable that your sister -"

"Shut up Mycroft, my sister is a hundred times better!"

The people inside seemed to have finally lifted their spirits.

Mycroft sighed: "I thought your affection for Miss Joshua suddenly changed after Miss Joshua told you that Miss Sylvester seemed to have a crush on my brother."

"Hey, who has a crush on your brother! You're slander!"

"I didn't say you..."

"You're finished Mycroft, don't even try to keep a single book in your bookcase!"

So why did he quarrel with a husky whose IQ has degenerated into a paramecium!Mycroft was a little helpless, leaning against the back of the sofa by the door.

The sofa had sunk a lot, and Mycroft's weight was putting a lot of pressure on it.

"You sat on the back of the sofa?" Leslie said.

"Obviously," replied Mycroft.

"I really feel sorry for your assistant. He has to get up early tomorrow in order to change your sofa." Leslie snorted coldly.

"I'm even more curious, whether that Miss Joshua will come to help her chasing object who suddenly lost her mind early tomorrow morning." Mycroft replied unhurriedly.

The two friends were just like the day they first met. You came and fought with each other until the footsteps outside sounded again.

"how--"

Mycroft was taken aback for a moment, he saw someone who shouldn't be here.

"Hello, I am Dr. John Watson," panted Watson, who had come running up the stairs. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes wants me to deliver a letter."

The author has something to say: Mycroft's brain circuits have never been straight.

Don't think about it 2333333

I feel a little excited now, thank you doladola for your long comment!Meme-3-

I decided to consider posting the paper 2333333 for the sake of the long comment, will you love me a little?