The day was going just as planned. They had been on this guys trail for weeks now and they were so close to catching him red handed in the act. Sherlock strode through the mall, his long coat flapping behind him as they kept their eyes firmly on the suspect. John could barely keep up with the mysterious detective as they chased the suspect but he wouldn‘t miss this for the world. Man, early thirties, suspected serial killer and psychopath. Yes! Oh how wonderful it will feel like to finally bring him down..
Sherlock smirked to himself as his pale blue eyes studied the man up and down from a safe distance, hidden by the crowds going on about their daily lives completely unaware of the monster among them.
“Come on John!“ Sherlock hissed as he pulled John after him, the man almost out of sight, a thing that Sherlock simply would not allow to happen. No, not on his watch.
Sherlock jumped on the esculator swift on his feet and it was at that very moment the man they were chasing made eye contact. He looked straight at the pair and grinned a toothy grin, as if he knew they had been on his heels this whole time, simply toying with them. The look on his face was primal, predatory even as he promised with his eyes alone that they would regret ever crossing his path.
Then he was suddenly sprinting away from them before Sherlock had the chance to even blink! Sherlock did not hesitate to start running as well and now the game was truly on! The suspect pushed startled people out of the way harshly as he ruthlessly made his way through the crowded shopping mall. Sherlock ran up the steps of the esculator, two steps at a time and John was now keeping his gun steady…
„He is getting away Joh-!...“ Suddenly Sherlock got swept off his feet and got pulled back completely. -he was confused and bewildered as he realized he was stuck in the esculator, getting dragged down it on his back, further and further away from his goal which was now succeeding in fleeing the consulting detective. „what on earth…my coat!“ Sherlock pulled at the source of his discomfort, his great coat now stuck in the edge of the esculator in plain sight as if mocking him. He did NOT have time for this nonsense, the man was getting away! He almost roared in pure frustration and at the betrayal of his dearest fashion accessory, which has failed him so royally in a crucial time like this.
Sherlock lay on his back getting pulled down the steps slowly as he pulled furiously at the edges of his coat, trying to get free from this mechanical beast that was so cruelly keeping him from catching a serial killer, and possibly saving innocent lives as well. John stood now just behind Sherlock watching this whole scene unfold, blinking in disbelief and confusion. He had been an army doctor, making split second decisions on the battlefield, dodging explosions and performing amputations by the minute but at this very moment he had no idea what to do. John froze and stood there, holding his gun and simply observed uselessly like a deer in headlights.
„John, god damn it, do something!“ He demanded as he got pulled agonizingly slow down the stairs now. There was no room to stand up and he could only lie there and pull on his coat like an idiot. People were gathering around now and watching the pair as Sherlock lay there struggling against the metallic steps, trying to get the upper hand but it was no use. Sherlock grabbed now, pulling hard with his hands, his black leather gloves helping him get a better grip on the edges of his coat as it was there getting eaten by the esculator in front of his very eyes.
Sherlock looks up at that moment and sees people of all ages watching him on the floor above, and right there among them was the suspect they had been chasing, grinning as he watched him struggle in the esculator like a detective fish on dry land. John seemed to finally get a hold of himself now and sprang into action. He grabbed sherlocks shoulders and pulled, but it did not work as he could not pull him up. Above their futile struggle, seemingly unaware of the surrounding world or simply uncaring, an old lady with a white cane now steps on the escalator to get to her destination. She is holding a cake.
Sherlock looks up and sees the slowly approaching disaster. ‘’John!’’ Sherlock points up, his movements restricted by the dark fabric. John nods reassuringly and lets it be known he is trying to get him out of this sticky situation, yet to no avail. The old blind lady is coming closer and closer now…
‘’No, John, cake!’’ Sherlock keeps insisting but John is too focused on his damn clothing to realize their impending sugary doom.
‘’Yes, yes Sherlock, don’t worry I will get you out…’’ John says but he barely has time to finish his sentence before his grip on the coat slips and he accidentally elbows the old lady straight in the face that is now behind him!
The crowd gasps and parents cover their children’s eyes. The murder suspect covers his mouth laughing at their misfortune, now having the time of his life clearly.
Sherlock boils with anger, how could this be happening? Now of all days when he was so close to solving this tedious case. John panics and holds up his arms wanting to apologize to the old lady he just elbowed in the face but at that very moment a voice from the crowd is heard calling, a voice sounding suspiciously similar to their previous target‘s voice.
„He has a gun!“
The old lady hears this and immediately starts beating on John with her cane now blindly, showing him no mercy. „Gah!“ -John looses his footing now in the escalator and accidentally pushes the woman and her cake over the rail into a water fountain down below with a loud splash. John sighs in relief, horrified at his own actions, but thankful at the same time to be rid of her. John looks down at where Sherlock is still struggling, almost having reached the bottom of the escalator now but they are not yet out of danger it appears. John looks up and sees to his utmost horror that the blind old ladies club is coming down the stairs now straight out of the bakery. Sherlock finally manages to break free now and stands up victoriously! He immediately looks up to the suspect that had been too vain to make his escape, having wanted to watch the events unfold on his enemy. The man visibly gulps and then backs into the crowd again ready to make a run for it. Sherlock runs up the escalator towards the man amongside John, showing old ladies and their cakes out of the way. „Move you old hags!“ Sherlock yells having lost his patience long ago as he bolts up the stairs and runs at the murder suspect whom now is retreating. The man stumbles backwards towards the stairs leading out of the mall glaring hatefully at the detective, but as he moves down the stairs, the villain‘s pants get caught in the escalator‘s side, just like had happened to Sherlock earlier. Hah! Sherlock almost screams manically in pure joy, drunk on the irony that this would happen to him as well. Maybe this day wasn‘t going to be so bad after all. But then Sherlock is unable to move as his pants are too getting stuck again…
He groans and struggles as he slides down the moving stairs just like his opponent is doing, now the hems of his jackets getting stuck too and he is completely immobilized. He eventually moves down to the end of the escalator, sliding on top of his enemy in the most shameful manner, stuck like that on top of him now. „John!“ Sherlock looks over his own shoulder trying to get help from his best friend. John comes running down towards him but trips and knocks himself out! Eventually John also slides of top of Sherlock and his enemy as they lie there stuck in a sandwich. .
Sherlock rolls his eyes and when he is about to give up all hope, he hears his brothers voice. A spark of hope awakens, a calming oasis in the desert of his confusion. It is a short relief he gets though when he sees Mycroft slide past him, stuck in the nearest escalator as well, his extravagant suit covered in cake.
Sherlock looks at his nemesis now under him, growling in annoyance. He stares up dumbly and then leans up in a kiss unexpectedly. „No, fuck off!“ Sherlock says to him and turns his head away. A news reporter is now recording them and Sherlocks deduces that John might throw up on him.