Just the Two of Us

No, no, no, no, no,no, not yet, no, no, no, no…. MOVE, YOU BLOODY COMPUTER! RUN LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT AND IT DOES!!!

WE GOT EXACTLY THREE NEW SCENES!!!! THOSE THREE NEW SCENES!!!!!!

OH, GOD, I CAN’T EVEN START TO EVEN…..

OK, first things first, here is the beautiful piece of art named a BBC Promo.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ThHEcmDBXpg

Absolutely stunning as a piece of editing and it really got me curious about all the other shows as well. But this trailer, this trailer, this trailer………….

Oh. My. God!!!

It’s like the tried to make the perfect combination of tears and excessive use of Benedict’s bass chords.

Just the two of us against the rest of the world.

With Brennisteinn by Sigur Rós filling our every pore with their epicness, this trailer led us to Sherlock glancing over London from the rooftop of the Department for Energy and Climate Change, on 55 Whitehall. Same shot as in Skyfall, the guardian in a time of war, with the people silently awakening to a brand new world. He looks sad and alone, but there is determination on his face and I believe this will be a scene long after his reveal of not-being-dead.

More scenes with musketeers and Oh! David Tennant! And then. BAAAMMM! Benedict starts talking.

The Thrill of the Chase, your Blood pumping through your Veins.

Motorcyles around London, Benedict’s jaguar voice breaking our heart cords. And a new scene, which I have just noticed, shows Mary on the back of a motorcycle with what looks to be Sherlock. Is that Sherlock?

I can’t really think John knows how to drive one of those. He may have been in the military, but that is not a designated asset. Plus, Benedict is a biker. Everybody knows that. They may have done this specially for him. *Just found a tweet. Yep, that’s Benedict.

But why are they on a motorbike? This has to be from either The Sign of Three or from His Last Vow. I can’t really see where it would fit in the first, mainly because in canon, Mary wasn’t exactly chased by anyone. Was there an attack at 221B?

They are driving at high speed, down stairs. That must have been one hell of a night, with all the stunts and training it required. They are flying to get somewhere really, really fast. Was John hurt somewhere? It’s the two people that John loves most in the world that come running for him, so I’m pretty sure that’s the truth. Sherlock wanted to make sure Mary was OK as well, so he took her on board. They were going to get there a lot faster anyway.

But why do I keep on having the feeling that something horrible will happen to Mary and, thus, to Sherlock at the end of this chase?

I think that she will die. And I fear that she will die in Sherlock’s place and that will add more pain to his wounds. I can’t be sure. But if that is the truth, I can’t imagine how Martin must have felt filming those scenes. Amanda is his wife, for God’s Sake. Moffat wrote the last episode, but even he can’t be that evil. Can he?

But that won’t happen. Episode 3 had just finished filming. They wouldn’t have had time to edit the clips, even for a trailer. So… the first or second episode it is.

But in the end, it’s Just the two of us against the rest of the world.

Ok, when I heard that (better said read, since it took me a while to find the trailer and facebook was faster. Thank you, Sherlock pages!), I literally collapsed and my fingers were typing desperately, while I was whispering “No, no, no..” over and over again. I was in shock. I feared that these words would lead to that ending that we all feared. But now, I can’t even contain all the fangirl feels that corrupt me. I want to jump up and down on St Barts and fly away.

That little phrase not only shows us that Sherlock still believes that everything will be alright, but it also suggests that John isn’t at his best point to hear that. Sherlock’s lip is cut, so this scene must be very soon after the restaurant punch. When he appeared. When he told John that he wasn’t dead. When all hell broke loose, the way it has broken on Tumblr and every social media you can think of.

We got 3, no, 4 new scenes and the Reichenbach fall. WHY??!! Why the fall? Why? Well, I think that’s a pretty good clue that the thing that we will discover at the end of episode one is how Sherlock faked his death. I don’t think they’ll put it very close to the beginning. Let’s say… Middle? Yeah, much better.

And they are already giffed? Oh my, isn’t this fandom fast as a bullet…

Enjoy the feels and the fangirling, guys! May we survive until January and prosper till the end.

Just the two of us against the rest of the world…

I need my purple blanket. I’ll be in my mind palace, guys.

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• Sigur Rós – Brennisteinn (majickcyrkles.wordpress.com)

Cute London Guy

Train from Barcelona. Dad on my left, window on my right. A couple made out of a fat ex-sportsman and a lady (either a PR person or a PR person).

On the other side of the corridor, an accent catches my ear. My dad is staring into his sunglasses. I whisper to him (in my dear native Romanian): British or American?

He understands and looks slightly to his left, to the family sitting there. He turns to me and says: American.

“No, they’re no!. Listen to how they pronounce the vowels, no American prolongs anything that much.”

He was teasing me. Again. If I had need of a large-sized Anderson, I would have ordered one on Ebay.

The process went very fast. Simple clothing, pretty cheap. The father had a rather nice watch, but it was no Rolex. His shoes were dirty and worn, covered with the dust of Barcelona. One month old T-shirt, worn trousers.

The mother wore a cheap top and, since her bra-straps were visible, I doubt that she gave much interest to her apparel. She had a good phone, but an old model. My guess was on a Samsung, but it wasn’t a smartphone. Common clothes, cheap jewelry. Tight on the purse with her own stuff.

Yes, stealing glances. Great work, Sophie…

The boy. Large T-shirt, too large for him, obvious borrow from an older brother. Worn shoes, but he had sculpted legs, so a jogger. Skinny arms, so not a serious sportive. He kept his bag under the seat and it got really dirty, so bets on him not having paid much on it. No sentimental value. Brother again. Must have left for University in America recently. Sentiment is taken out of the question, but he was rather cute.

What I deduce from the lot? Mainly, average wealth, stay-at-home mom, kid in his final years of school. The noise of the train covers their words, but the woman gets annoyed at some point and her voice confirms it all. British.

The guy is cute, looks like a serious one. He has long fingers, possible guitarist, though pianist is not out of the talk (too far away to be sure) and obvious gamer. He sits a bit weird and that’s how I saw guys sit when they’re really into the game. Console gamer, also.

The train stops, the bag-frenzy erupts and we descend. The British are behind us. I grab my suitcase and, because the line at the rolling-stairs is too damn long, I heave my T-shirts, dresses and salamanders with magnets and take the stairs. As I reach the top, I notice the cute-British-guy doing the same. Talk about coincidence.

I wait for my family and the British take the lead. As we drag the trollers, deductions swarm again. This time, it’s the long plastic bag that’s stuck in cute-British-guy’s bag. I know the brand, since I’ve been in that shop twice in Barcelona and I loved it. A poster shop. Movie posters. And it was a big container. Most likely three posters, at least one with Assassin’s Creed. I have to slow down (again) and the British disappear into the crowd.

As we reach the check-in, a line forms at my airline’s entry, so I take a walk around and check all of the day’s flights. There’s mine in 2 hours then one for Moscow, another for Ireland, another for somewhere way away and then…. Flights to England.

One flight in 2 and a half hours with Monarch and another with British Airways.

They had come at the same time with me and they had enough bags and a mother stressed out enough to mean that they did what we did. Came 2 hours early. Those two flights had to be their flights. Both went to Heathrow.

That was not a family to take Monarch. It’s not rocket science. It’s all in the watch. Rolex is more than a brand. It’s a status symbol. It says I’m a banker and I win a trillion pounds more than you do, so leave my sight, peasant, before my watch blinds you. The father’s watch wasn’t expensive. Their phones weren’t expensive. What they wore was common. Flying with Monarch isn’t common. The people in line there were all business men, with suits and black suitcases.

Clearing away the impossible, the family had to take the flight to London with British Airways, at 19:45. They shall then take the train back to a region somewhere close to Bath.

When they went past us and past the Monarch line and stopped at BA’s check-in entry, I had something to enjoy while listening to some idiots chattering on how bad Spanish food was and on how much they missed the Romanian beaches. The fact that they also had kids made it even worse.

It was a looooooooooooooooooong flight.

And re-reading this, I can just pray that the family doesn’t discover this (by the way, there was also a sister), because then it would look ridiculously awkward. First-world stalker problems. Welcome to deduction!

*Sorry for disappearing. Again. No, Moffat let me be this time. However, his best friend, Fluxus Coldynium thought that my throat needed an extra baritone chord and so, while struggling with fever and helping my family organize a huge meal-giveaway, to commemorate 6 months from my grandfather’s death, my wonderful ears and beloved vocal chords decided to help me out and hurt like hell. Still does.

Be thankful, I guess. For now, my eyes are back in shape and I’m back writing. Have fun, beloved.

The Moffats Send Their Regards

I told you we should have taken her phone.
Well, yeah, but nobody said anything about it. Lord Moffat only said something about keeping her quiet. Writing is quiet, right?
…..
You idiot.

Right, readers of this thing called Sherlockian Mind, we interrupt the interrupted program to bring you some news. Miss Proud shall be detained this week. After her last posts, she was considered to be a threat to those allergic to spoilers and/or pain, so she has been taken and hidden in a top-secret location in the darkest corner of Barcelona. Good luck finding her now!
Anyway, Mr. Moffat has sent word that she should come to no harm and her electronic devices are still in perfect condition.
She has kept her phone. So far. After a talk with my Lord, I will know what to do precisely.
We shall accept your thanks for our service in time.

You can thank me in person.
Irene could type behind her back.
They should have figured it out faster. Do not worry for me, dears. I am perfectly safe and this underground place looks a lot like Earl’s Court, pan-into-his office. The only thing that fails is a connection. I am still followed, so I will have to stick to something a bit safer, while they hunt. It will be fun anyway, so don’t worry.
Any messages to Mr. Moffat, in case he ACTUALLY comes here, to check on the kiddo he asked the imprisonment of?

Oi, Jimmy, is that the Stalingrad across the street?

There are many things that may have caused Gaudi’s death, but I think somebody just implanted a double-edged dagger in his skull.