Sherlock

My brother is a murderer.

No chance for you to be a hero this time, Mr. Holmes.

Oh, do your research.

I'm not a hero.

I'm a high-functioning sociopath.

Merry Christmas!

I am not given to outbursts of brotherly compassion.

You know what happened to the other one.

- Miss me? - (DISTORTED VOICE) Did you miss me?

Did you miss me? Did you miss me?

I've only been gone four minutes.

Well, I certainly hope you've learnt your lesson.

What you're about to see is classified beyond top secret.

Is that quite clear?

Don't minute any of this.

Once beyond these walls, you must never speak of it.

A D-notice has been slapped on the entire incident.

Only those within this room, codenames Antarctica, Langdale, Porlock and Love,

will ever know the whole truth.

As far as everyone else is concerned,

going to the Prime Minister and way beyond,

Charles Augustus... Are you tweeting?

- No. - Well, that's what it looks like.

Of course I'm not tweeting. Why would I be tweeting?

- Give me that. - What? No.

- What are you doing? Get off. What? - Give it here.

- "Back on terra firm a..." - No, don't read them out.

- "Free as a bird." - God, you're such a spoilsport.

Will you take this matter seriously, Sherlock?

I am taking it seriously. What makes you think I'm not taking it seriously?

"Hashtag, oh what a beautiful morning."

Look, not so long ago I was on a mission that meant certain death,

my death, and now I'm back in a nice, warm office,

with my big brother and... Are those ginger nuts?

- Oh God. - Love ginger nuts.

Our doctor said you were clean.

I am, utterly.

No need for stimulants now, remember?

I have work to do.

You're high as a kite.

Natural high. I assure you.

Totally natural. I'm just...

What shall we do next? What's your name?

- Vivian. - What would you do, Vivian?

- Pardon? - It's a lovely day.

Go for a stroll, make a paper airplane, have an ice lolly?

- Ice lolly, I suppose. - Ice lolly it is.

What's your favorite?

Oh, really, I shouldn't...

- Go on. - Do they still do Mivvies?

- Mr. Holmes. - Yes?

We do need to get on.

Yes, of course.

Do your research.

I'm not a hero,

I'm a high-functioning sociopath.

- Sociopath. - (GUNSHOT)

- Sociopath. - (GUNSHOT)

I see. - Sociopath.

Who is supposed to have shot him then?

Some over-eager squaddie with an itchy trigger finger, that's who.

That's not what happened at all.

It is now.

Remarkable. How did you do it?

We have some very talented people working here.

If James Moriarty can hack every TV screen in the land,

rest assured, we have the tech to doctor a bit of security footage.

That is now the official version,

the version anyone we want to will see.

No need to go to the trouble

of getting some sort of official pardon.

You're off the hook, Mr. Holmes.

You're home and dry.

Okay, cheers.

Obviously, there's unfinished business.

Moriarty.

I told you, Moriarty's dead.

You say he filmed that video message before he died?

- Yes. - You also say

you know what he's going to do next.

What does that mean?

Perhaps that's all there is to it.

Perhaps he was just trying to frighten you.

No, no, he would never be that disappointing.

He's planned something, something long term.

Something that would take effect

if he never made it off that rooftop alive.

Posthumous revenge. No, better than that.

Posthumous game.

We brought you back to deal with this.

- What are you going to do? Wait.

Wait?

Of course, wait. I'm the target. Targets wait.

Look...

Whatever's coming, whatever he's lined up,

I'll know when it begins.

I always know when the game is on.

- You know why? - Why?

Because I love it.

"There was once a merchant"

"in the famous market at Baghdad.

"One day he saw a stranger looking at him in surprise.

"And he knew that the stranger was Death.

"Pale and trembling, the merchant fled the marketplace

"and made his way many, many miles

"to the city of Samarra.

"For there he was sure Death could not find him.

"But when, at last he came to Samarra,"

"the merchant saw, waiting for him,"

"the grim figure of Death."

"'Very well," said the merchant.

"I give in. I am yours."

"'But tell me, why did you look surprised

“'when you saw me this morning in Baghdad?'

"'Because, ' said Death,

"I had an appointment with you tonight,

"'in Samarra.""

If this gets any better, I'm gonna get two knives.

It pays to advertise.

So, what about Moriarty then?

Oh, I have a plan.

I'm going to monitor the underworld, every quiver of the web

will tell me when the spider makes his move.

So basically, your plan is just to sit there solving crimes like you always do.

Awesome, isn't it?

He drowned, Mr. Holmes. That's what we thought.

- But when they opened up his lungs... - Yes?

- Sand. - Superficial.

Come back, it's the wrong thumb.

- Sherlock. - It's never twins.

Hopkins, arrest Wilson. Dimmock, look in the lymph nodes.

Wilson? DIMMOCK: Lymph nodes?

Sherlock...

Yes, you may have nothing but a limbless torso,

but there'll still be traces of ink left

in the lymph nodes under the armpits.

If your mystery corpse had tattoos, the signs will be there.

Bloody hell. Is that a guess?

I never guess.

- Sherlock... So, he's the killer.

The canary trainer?

- Of course he's the killer. - Didn't see that coming.

Naturally.

Sherlock, you can't go on spinning plates like this.

That's it, the place was spinning.

The heart medication you are taking is known to cause bouts of amnesia.

Yes, I think so.

- Why? - Because the fingerprints

on your brother's neck were your own.

(LAUGHING) A jellyfish. SHERLOCK: I know.

You can't arrest a jellyfish.

- You could try. - We did try.

- (MOBILE VIBRATING) - (SIGHS)

- Oh, God. - Mary?

Fifty-nine missed calls.

We're in a lot of trouble.

Ow! Oh, my God!

Oh, my God!

Relax. It's got two syllables...

I'm a nurse, darling. I think I know what to do.

All right, then. Come on.

Re... - Lax.

Oh, just drive. Please go. Just drive. God, drive.

- (SCREAMING) - Sherlock? Mary.

That's it, Mary. Re...

Don't you start.

Lax. - (MARY GRUNTS)

John? John?

I think you have to pull over.

- Mary, Mary. - Pull over!

Oh, my God. - (MARY SCREAMING)

Has that come out?

- They never come out when I take them. - Let's have a look.

Oh, she's so beautiful.

- (BABY GURGLING) - Have another go.

- What about a name? - Catherine.

- Oh, yeah, we've gone off that. - Have we?

- Yeah. - Oh.

- Well, you know what I think. It's not a girl's name.

Molly, Mrs. H. We would love you to be godparents.

- Oh! - If you...

- Really? - That's so lovely.

And, uh...

- You too, Sherlock. - You too, what?

Godfather. We'd like you to be godfather.

God is a ludicrous fiction dreamt up by inadequates

who abnegate all responsibility to an invisible magic friend.

Yeah, but there'll be cake. Will you do it?

- I'll get back to you. - All right.

Father, we ask you to send your blessings on this water,

and sanctify it for our use this day,

in Christ's name.

Now, what name have you given your daughter?

- Rosamund Mary. - Rosamund?

Means "rose of the world."

Rosie, for short.

Didn't you get John's text?

No, I delete his texts.

- I delete any text that begins, "Hi." - (BABY CRYING)

No idea why people think you're incapable of human emotion.