Sherlock Sherlock Holmes

Series 2


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A Scandal in Belgravia


Moriarty: Sorry boys! I’m soooo changeable! It is a weakness with me. But to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness. You can’t be allowed to continue. You just can’t. I would try to convince you. Everything I have to say has already crossed your mind.
Sherlock: Probably my answer has crossed yours. He aims the gun at Moriarty and then down to the bomb-laden jacket…

A Staying Alive ring tone goes off.
Jim Moriarty (Andrew Scott): Do you mind if I get that?
Sherlock Holmes (Benedict Cumberbatch): Oh no, please. You’ve got the rest of your life.
Moriarty: Hello? Yes of course it is. What do you want? {he mouths “Sorry”} Say that again! Say that again and know that if you’re lying to me, I will find you and I will skin you.

Moriarty: Sorry. Wrong day to die.
Sherlock: Oh. Did you get a better offer?
Moriarty: You’ll be hearing from me, Sherlock. {he returns to his phone call} So if you have what you say you have, I’ll make you rich. If you don’t, I’ll make you into shoes. {he snaps his fingers and the snipers disappear}

John Watson (Martin Freeman): What happened there?
Sherlock: Someone changed his mind. The question is, who?

Sherlock: What are you typing?
Watson: Blog.
Sherlock: About?
Watson: Us.
Sherlock: You mean me.
Watson: Why?
Sherlock: Well you’re typing a lot. {the doorbell rings} Right then. So, what have we got?

Potential Client 1: My wife seems to be spending a very long time at the office.
Sherlock: Boring!
Potential Client 2: I think my husband might be having an affair.
Sherlock: Yes.

Comic Book Web site Guy: We have this web site. It explains the true meaning of comic books, ’cause people miss a lot of the themes. {Sherlock prepares to leave} But then all of the comic books start coming true.
Sherlock: Oh. Interesting.

Sherlock: Geek Interpreter. What’s that?
Watson: That’s the title.
Sherlock: What does it need a title for?

Sherlock: Do people actually read your blog?
Watson: Where do you think our clients come from.
Sherlock: I have a web site.
Watson: In which you enumerate two hundred and forty different types of tobacco. Which is why nobody’s reading your web site. Right then. Dyed blonde hair, no obvious cause of death except for these speckles. Whatever they are.

Sherlock: Oh for gods sakes! The Speckled Blonde?

DI Lestrade (Rupert Graves): There was a plane crash in Dusseldorf yesterday. Everyone dead.
Sherlock: Suspected terrorist bomb. {to John} I do watch the news.
Watson: You said, “boring” and turned over.
Lestrade: According to the flight details, this man was checked in on board. Inside his coat he’s got a stub from his boarding pass, napkins from the flight, even one of these special biscuits. Here’s his passport, stamped from Berlin airport. So this man should have died in a plane crash in Germany yesterday, but instead he’s in a car boot in Suffolk.

Lestrade: Any ideas?
Sherlock: Eight so far… Okay, four ideas… Maybe two ideas.

Sherlock: No no, don’t mention the unsolved ones.
Watson: People want to know you’re human.
Sherlock: Why?
Watson: Because they’re interested.
Sherlock: No they’re not. Why are they?

Hat-man and Robin: The web detectives

Sherlock: Tell us from the start. Don’t be boring!

Watson: You realize this is a tiny bit humiliating.
Sherlock: It’s okay, I’m fine. Now, show me to the stream.
Watson: I didn’t really mean for you.
Sherlock: Look, this is a six. There’s no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a seven. We agreed. Alright go back, show me the grass.
Watson: When did we agree that?
Sherlock: We agreed it yesterday. Stop! Closer.
Watson: I wasn’t even at home yesterday, I was in Dublin.
Sherlock: It’s hardly my fault you weren’t listening. {the doorbell rings} Shut up!
Watson: Do you just carry on talking when I’m away?
Sherlock: I don’t know. How often are you away?

Sherlock: Pass me over.
Watson: Alright, but there’s a mute button and I will use it.

Sherlock: Having driven to an isolated location and successfully committed a crime without a single witness, why would he then call the police and consult a detective? Fair play?
Inspector Carter (Danny Webb): He’s trying to be clever. It’s over-confidence.
Sherlock: Did you see him? Morbidly obese. The undisguised halitosis of a single man living on his own. The right sleeve of an internet porn addict. And the breathing pattern of an untreated heart condition. Low self esteem, tiny IQ and a limited life expectancy. And you think he’s an audacious criminal mastermind? {turning to his client} Don’t worry, this is just stupid.
Client: What did you just say? Heart what?

Watson checks out the surroundings
Watson: Are you wearing any pants?
Sherlock: No.
Watson: Okay. {they start laughing} Buckingham Palace. Right. I am seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray.

Watson: What are we doing here? Sherlock, no, seriously. What?
Sherlock: I don’t know.
Watson: Here to see the Queen? {Mycroft appears}
Sherlock: Oh! Apparently, yes.

Mycroft: We are in Buckingham Palace. The very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on.
Sherlock: What for?
Mycroft: Your client.
Sherlock: And my client is?
Harry: Illustrious. In the extreme. And remaining, I’ll have to inform you, entirely anonymous.

Harry: You look taller in your photographs.
Sherlock: Take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend.

Sherlock: Mycroft, I don’t do anonymous clients. I’m used to mystery at one end of my cases. Both ends is too much work. Good morning.
Mycroft: This is a matter of national importance. Grow up!
Sherlock: Get off my sheet!
Mycroft: Or what?
Sherlock: Or I’ll just walk away.
Mycroft: I’ll let you.
Watson: Boys, please. Not here.

Mycroft: I’ll be mother.
Sherlock: And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell.

Sherlock: You have a police force of sorts. Even a marginally Secret Service. Why come to me?
Harry: People do come to you for help, don’t they Mr. Holmes?
Sherlock: Mm… not to date anyone with a navy.
Mycroft: This is a matter of the highest security and therefore of trust.
Watson: You don’t trust your own Secret Service?
Mycroft: Naturally not. They all spy on people for money.

Mycroft: What do you know about this woman? {he shows her a photograph}
Sherlock: Nothing whatsoever.
Mycroft: Then you should be paying more attention.

Sherlock: Who is she?
Mycroft: Irene Adler. Professionally known as The Woman.
Watson: Professionally?
Mycroft: There are many names for what she does. She prefers dominatrix.
Sherlock: Dominatrix.
Mycroft: Don’t be alarmed. It has to do with sex.
Sherlock: Sex doesn’t alarm me.
Mycroft: How would you know?

Harry: Will you take the case?
Sherlock: What case? Pay her. Now. And in full. As Ms. Adler remarks in her masthead, “know when you are beaten.”
Mycroft: She doesn’t want anything. She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed. She indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favor.
Sherlock: Oh, a power play. A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix. Oo, this is getting rather fun, isn’t it.

Sherlock: Text me the details. I’ll be in touch by the end of the day.
Harry: Do you really think you’ll have news by then?
Sherlock: No, I think I’ll have the photographs.
Harry: One can only hope you’re as good as you seem to think.

Sherlock: Can I have a box of matches?
Harry: I’m sorry?
Sherlock: Or your cigarette lighter. Either will do.
Harry: I don’t smoke.
Sherlock: No, I know you don’t. But your employer does.
Harry: We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact, Mr. Holmes.
Sherlock: I’m not the Commonwealth.
Watson: And that’s as modest as he gets.

Watson: Okay. The smoking. How did you know?
Sherlock: The evidence is right under your nose, John. As ever you see but do not observe.
Watson: Observe what?
Sherlock: The ashtray. {he pulls it from his pocket}

Watson: Punch you?
Sherlock: Yes. Punch me. In the face. Didn’t you hear me?
Watson: I always hear “punch me in the face” when you’re speaking, but it’s usually subtext.

Sherlock: Okay, I think we’ve done now, John.
Watson: You want to remember, Sherlock, I was a soldier. I killed people.
Sherlock: You were a doctor!
Watson: I had bad days!

Irene Adler: I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been hurt. I don’t think Kate caught your name.
Sherlock: I’m so sorry, I’m—
Irene Adler: Oh, it’s always hard to remember an alias when you’ve had a fright. Isn’t it? {she snatches his clerical collar} There now. We’re both defrocked. Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
Sherlock: Ms. Adler, I presume.

Irene Adler: Do you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr. Holmes? However hard you try, it’s always a self-portrait.
Sherlock: You think I’m a vicar with a bleeding face?
Irene Adler: No, I think you’re damaged, delusional and believe in a higher power. In your case it’s yourself.

Irene Adler: Somebody loves you. If I had to punch that face I’d avoid your nose and teeth too.
Watson: Could you put something on please? Ah, anything at all. Napkin?
Irene Adler: Why? Are you feeling exposed?
Sherlock: I don’t think John knows where to look.
Irene Adler: No. I think he knows exactly where. Not sure about you.

Irene Adler: The hiker with the bashed in head, how was he killed?
Sherlock: That’s not why I’m here.
Irene Adler: No no no, you’re here for the photographs but that’s never going to happen. And since we’re here just chatting anyway…

Irene Adler: I thought you were looking for the photos now.
Sherlock: No. Looking takes ages. I’m just going to find them. But you’re moderately clever and we’ve got a moment so let’s pass the time.

Sherlock: Upon hearing a smoke alarm, a mother would look to her child. Amazing how fire exposes our priorities. {he reveals the safe} Really hope you don’t have a baby in here.

Neilson: Thank you, Mr. Holmes. Open it, please.
Holmes realizing: Vatican Cameos. {Watson ducks}

Irene Adler referring to the combination: Thank you. You were very observant.
Watson: Observant?
Irene Adler: I’m flattered.
Sherlock: Don’t be.

Sherlock: All the photographs are on here, I presume.
Irene Adler: I have copies of course.
Sherlock: No you don’t.

Sherlock: The photographs are perfectly safe.
Mycroft: In the hands of a fugitive sex worker.
Sherlock: She’s not interested in blackmail. She wants… protection for some reason. I take it you stood down the police investigation into the shooting at her house.
Mycroft: How can we do anything while she has the photographs? Our hands are tied.
Sherlock: She’d applaud your choice of words.

Sherlock: Treat her like royalty, Mycroft.
Watson: Though not the way she treats royalty.

Mrs. Hudson (Una Stubbs): It’s a disgrace, sending your little brother into danger like that. Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes.
Mycroft: Oh shut up, Mrs. Hudson.
Sherlock: Mycroft!
Mycroft: Apologies.
Mrs. Hudson: Thank you.
Sherlock: Though do in fact shut up.

Sherlock: There’s nothing you can do and nothing she will do as far as I can see.
Mycroft: I can put maximum surveillance on her.
Sherlock: Why bother. You can follow her on Twitter.

Watson: See I’m wondering who could have got ahold of your phone because it would have been in your coat, wouldn’t it?
Sherlock: I leave you to your deductions.
Watson: I’m not stupid, you know.
Sherlock: I do get that idea.

Sherlock: What else does she have? {Mycroft feigns ignorance} Irene Adler. The Americans wouldn’t be interested in her for a couple of compromising photographs. There’s more. Much more. Something big’s coming, isn’t it?
Mycroft: Irene Adler is no longer any concern of yours. From now on you will stay out of this.
Sherlock: Oh, will I?
Mycroft: Yes Sherlock. You will.

Sherlock: Sarah was the doctor and then there was the one with the spots and then the one with the nose and then who was after the boring teacher?
Jeanette: Nobody.
Sherlock: Jeanette! Ah. Process of elimination.

Molly Hooper (Louise ‘Loo’ Brealey): Having our Christmas drinkies then?
Sherlock: No stopping them, apparently.
Mrs. Hudson: It’s the one day of the year where the boys have to be nice to me so it’s always worth it.

Sherlock: I see you’ve got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you’re serious about him.
Molly: What? Sorry what?
Sherlock: In fact you’re seeing him this very night and giving him a gift.
Watson: Take a day off.
Lestrade: Sherlock, have a drink.
Sherlock: Oh come on. Surely you’ve all seen the present at the top of the bag. Perfectly wrapped with a bow. All the others are slapdash at best. Must be someone special then. Shade of red echoes the lipstick. Either a subsonscious association or one that she’s deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Hooper has love on her mind. The fact that she’s serious about him is clear from the fact that she’s giving him a gift at all. That all suggests long-term hopes, however forlorn. And that she’s seeing him tonight is evident from the make-up and what she’s wearing. Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breasts.
: You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always. Always…
Sherlock: I am sorry. Forgive me. Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper.

Mycroft: Oh dear lord. We’re not going to have Christmas phone calls now, are we? Have they passed a new law?
Sherlock: I think you’re going to find Irene Adler tonight.
Mycroft: We already know where she is. As you were kind enough to point out, it hardly matters.
Sherlock: No, I mean you’re going to find her dead.

Sherlock: You didn’t need to come in, Molly.
Molly: That’s okay. Everyone else was busy with… Christmas. Ah, the face is a bit sort of bashed up, so it might be a bit difficult.
Mycroft: That’s her, isn’t it?
Sherlock: Show me the rest of her. {Molly pulls the sheet} That’s her.
Mycroft: Thank you, Miss Hooper.
Molly: Who is she? How did Sherlock recognize her from… not her face?

Sherlock: Smoking indoors. Isn’t that one of those “law” things?
Mycroft: We’re in a morgue. There’s only so much damage you can do.

Sherlock: Do you ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us?
Mycroft: All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.
Sherlock: This is low tar.
Mycroft: Well. You barely knew her.

Sherlock: The count on your blog is still stuck at one thousand eight hundred and ninety-five.
Watson: Yes, it’s faulty. Can’t seem to fix it.
Sherlock: Faulty. Or you’ve been hacked and it’s a message.

Sherlock: Don’t snivel, Mrs. Hudson. It’ll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet. What a tender world that would be.

Neilson: But you know what I’m asking for, don’t you Mr. Holmes.
Sherlock: I believe I do. First get rid of your boys.
Neilson: Why?
: I dislike being outnumbered. It makes for too much stupid in the room.

Crime in progress. Please disturb.

Watson: What the hell is happening?
Sherlock: Mrs. Hudson’s been attacked by an American. I’m restoring the balance to the universe.

Watson: Are you going to tell me what’s going on?
Sherlock: I expect so, now go.

Lestrade: And exactly how many times did he fall out of the window?
Sherlock: It’s all a bit of a blur, Detective Inspector. I lost count.

Watson: She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her.
Mrs. Hudson: No.
Sherlock: She’s fine.
Watson: No, she’s not. Look at her. She’s got to take some time away from Baker Street. She can go and stay with her sister. Doctor’s orders.
Sherlock: Don’t be absurd.
Watson: She’s in shock, for god’s sake! And all over some stupid bloody camera phone. Where is it anyway?
Sherlock: Safest place I know.
Mrs. Hudson: He left it in the pocket of his second best dressing gown, you clot. I managed to sneak it out when they thought I was having a cry.

Sherlock: Shame on you, John Watson.
Watson: Shame on me?
Sherlock: Mrs. Hudson leave Baker Street? England would fall!

Sherlock: I think we have a client.
Watson: What, in your bedroom? Oh.

Irene Adler: I make my way in the world. I misbehave. I like to know people will be on my side exactly when I need them to be.
Sherlock: So how do you acquire this information?
Irene Adler: I told you. I misbehave.
Sherlock: But you’ve acquired something that’s more danger than protection. Do you know what it is?
Irene Adler: Yes. But I don’t understand it.
Sherlock: Assumed. Show me.

Sherlock: You’re rather good.
Irene Adler: You’re not so bad.
Watson: Hamish! {they look startled} John Hamish Watson, just if you’re looking for baby names.

Sherlock: Where’s John?
Irene Adler: He went out. A couple of hours ago.
Sherlock: I was just talking to him.
Irene Adler: He said you do that.

Irene Adler: Have you ever had anyone?
Sherlock: Sorry.
Irene Adler: And when I say “had” I’m being indelicate.
Sherlock: I don’t understand.
Irene Adler: I’ll be delicate. Let’s have dinner.
Sherlock: Why?
Irene Adler: You might be hungry.
Sherlock: I’m not.
Irene Adler: Good.
Sherlock: Why would I want to have dinner if I wasn’t hungry.
Irene Adler: Oh, Mr. Holmes, if it was the end of the world—if this was the very last night—would you have dinner with me?
Mrs. Hudson: Sherlock!
Irene Adler: Too late.
Sherlock: It’s not the end of the world, it’s Mrs. Hudson.

Sherlock: There’s going to be a bomb on a passenger jet. British and American governments know about it but rather than expose the source of their information they’re going to let it happen. The plane will blow up. Coventry all over again. The wheel turns, nothing is ever new.

Mycroft: The Coventry Conundrum. What do you think of my solution? The Flight of the Dead.
Sherlock: The plane blows up midair. Mission accomplished for the terrorists. Hundreds of casualties but nobody dies.
Mycroft: Neat, don’t you think? You’ve been stumbling around the fringes of this one for ages. Or were you too bored to notice the pattern?

Mycroft: The terrorist cells have been informed that we know about the bomb. We can’t fool them now. We’ve lost everything. One fragment of one email. And months and years of planning. Finished.
Sherlock: Your MOD man.
Mycroft: That’s all it takes. One lonely naive man, desperate to show off. And a woman clever enough to make him feel special.
Sherlock: You need to screen your defence people more carefully.
Mycroft: I’m not talking about the MOD man, Sherlock, I’m talking about you!

Irene Adler: Mr. Holmes, I think we need to talk.
Sherlock: So do I. There are a number of aspects I’m still not quite clear on.
Irene Adler: Not you, Junior. You’re done now.

Mycroft: Here you are, the dominatrix who brought a nation to its knees. Nicely played.
Sherlock: No.
Irene Adler: Sorry?
Sherlock: I said, no. Very very close, but no. You got carried away. The game was too elaborate. You were enjoying yourself too much.
Irene Adler: No such thing as too much.
Sherlock: Oh enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine. Craving the distraction of the game, I sympathize entirely. But sentiment, sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side.
Irene Adler: Sentiment. What are you talking about?
Sherlock: You.
Irene Adler: Oh dear god, look at the poor man. You don’t actually think I was interested in you? Why? Because you’re the great Sherlock Holmes? The clever detective in the funny hat?
Sherlock: No. Because I took your pulse.

Sherlock: When we first met you told me that disguise is always a self portrait—how true of you. The combination to your safe, your measurements. But this, this is far more intimate. This is your heart. And you should never let it rule your head. You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you worked for. But you just couldn’t resist it, could you? I’ve always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage. Thank you for the final proof.
Irene Adler: Everything I said, it’s not real. I was just playing the game.
Sherlock: I know. And this is just losing. {I AM SHERLOCKED}.

Sherlock: There you are, brother. I hope the contents make up for any inconvenience I may have caused you tonight.
Mycroft: I’m certain they will.
Sherlock: If you’re feeling kind, lock her up. Otherwise let her go. I doubt she’ll survive long without her protection.
Irene Adler: Are you expecting me to beg?
Sherlock: Yes.
Irene Adler: Please. You’re right. I won’t even last six months.
Sherlock: Sorry about dinner.

Watson: Did she ever text you again, after all that?
Sherlock: Once. A few months ago.
Watson: What did she say?
Sherlock: “Goodbye Mr Holmes”.

Sherlock: When I say run, run.

Sherlock: The Woman.

The Hounds of Baskerville

Holmes appearing drenched in blood: Well that was tedious.
Watson: You went on the Tube like that?
Sherlock: None of the cabs would take me.Sherlock: John. I need some. Get me some.
Watson: No.
Sherlock: Get me some.
Watson: No. Cold turkey, we agreed. No matter what. Anyway, you’ve paid everyone off, remember? No one in a two-mile radius will sell you any.
Sherlock: Stupid idea. Who’s idea was that? {John clears his throat}Mrs. Hudson: How ’bout a nice cuppa? Perhaps you could put away your harpoon.
Sherlock: I need something stronger than tea! Seven percent stronger.Sherlock: Oh John, I envy you so much.
Watson: You envy me?
Sherlock: Your mind. It’s so placid. Straightforward. Barely used. Mine’s like an engine, racing out of control. A rocket, tearing itself to pieces trapped on the launch pad. I need a case!
Watson: You’ve just solved one by harpooning a dead pig, apparently.
Sherlock: Ah! That was this morning. When’s the next one?
Watson: Nothing on the web site.Sherlock: Phone Lestrade. Tell him there’s an escaped rabbit.
Watson: Are you serious?
Sherlock: It’s this or Cluedo.
Watson: Ah, no. We are never playing that again.
Sherlock: Why?
Watson: Because it’s not actually possible for the victim to have done it, Sherlock.
Sherlock: It was the only possible solution.
Watson: Not in the rules.
Sherlock: Well then the rules are wrong!

Watson: Single ring.
Sherlock: Maximum pressure just under the half-second.
Both: Client.

Sherlock: What did you see?
Henry Knight (Russell Tovey): Oh, I was just about to say.
Sherlock: Yes, in a TV interview. I prefer to do my own editing.
Henry: Yes. Sorry, yes of course. Excuse me. {he pulls out a handkerchief}
Watson: In your own time.
Sherlock: But quite quickly.

Sherlock: Yes, good. Skipping to the night that your dad was violently killed. Where did that happen?
Henry: There’s a place, it’s a sort of local landmark called Dewar’s Hollow. That’s an ancient name for the devil.
Sherlock: So?
Watson: Did you see the devil that night?
Henry: Yes. It was huge. Cold black fur with red eyes. It got him. Tore at him, tore him apart. I can’t remember anything else. They found the next morning just wandering on the moor. My dad’s body was never found.

Watson: Red eyes, cold black fur. Enormous… dog? Wolf?
Sherlock: Or a genetic experiment.
Henry: Are you laughing at me, Mr. Holmes?
Sherlock: Why, are you joking?
Henry: My dad was always going on about the things they were doing at Baskerville. About the type of monsters they were breeding there. People used to laugh at him. At least the TV people took me seriously.
Sherlock: I assume it did wonders for Devon tourism.

Watson: Henry, whatever did happen to your father, it was twenty years ago. Why come to us now?
Henry: I’m not sure you can help me, Mr. Holmes, because you find it all so funny.
Sherlock: Because of what happened last night.
Watson: Why? What happened last night?

Watson: Not now, Sherlock.
Sherlock: Oh please. I’ve been cooped up here for ages.
Watson: You’re just showing off.
Sherlock: Of course. I am a show-off, that’s what we do.

Sherlock: Yes, if I wanted poetry I’d read John’s emails to his girlfriends. Much funnier.

Sherlock: Goodbye Mr. Knight. Thank you for smoking.

Henry: You’ll come down then?
Sherlock: No, I can’t leave London at the moment. Far too busy. But don’t worry. I’m putting my best man onto it. Always rely on John to send me all the relevant data as he never understands a word of it himself.
Watson: What are you talking about, you’re busy? You don’t have a case. A minute ago you were complaining—
Sherlock: Bluebell, John! I’ve got Bluebell. The case of the vanishing glow-in-the-dark rabbit. NATO’s in uproar.
Henry: Oh, sorry. You’re not coming then? {Sherlock shakes his head forlornly}
Watson realizing the problem: Oh. Okay. Okay. {he grabs the cigarettes from under the skull}
Sherlock: Don’t need those anymore, I’m going to Dartmoor. You go on ahead, Henry. We’ll follow later.
Henry: Sorry, so you are coming?
Sherlock: Twenty year old disappearance, a monstrous hound. I wouldn’t miss this for the world!

Watson: Oh. Looks like Mrs. Hudson finally got to the wife in Doncaster.
Sherlock: Wait ’til she finds out about the one in Islamabad.

Watson: You’ve got ID for Baskerville?
Sherlock: No. It’s not specific to this place. It’s my brother’s. Access all areas. I, um, acquired it ages ago just in case.
Watson: Brilliant.
Sherlock: It’s nothing.
Watson: We’ll get caught.
Sherlock: No we won’t. Well not just yet.
Watson: Caught in five minutes. “Oh hi, we just thought we’d come in and have a wander around your top secret weapons base.” “Really? Great! Come in. [?]” That’s if we don’t get shot.

Watson: Mycroft’s name literally opens doors.
Sherlock: I told you. He practically is the British government. I reckon we’ve got about twenty minutes before they realize something’s wrong.

Sherlock: Stapleton. I knew I knew your name.
Dr. Stapleton (Amelia Bullmore): Doubt it.
Sherlock: People say there’s no such thing as coincidence. What dull lives they must lead. {he holds up an accusatory BLUEBELL}
Dr. Stapleton: Have you been talking to my daughter?
Sherlock: Why did Bluebell have to die, Dr. Stapleton?
Watson: The rabbit?
Sherlock: Disappeared from inside a locked hutch, which was always suggestive.
Watson: The rabbit?
Sherlock: Clearly an inside job.
Dr. Stapleton: Oh, you reckon.
Sherlock: Why? Because it glowed in the dark?

Sherlock: Thank you.
Dr. Franklyn: This is about Henry Knight, isn’t it? I thought so. I knew he wanted help, but I didn’t realize he was going to contact Sherlock Holmes. Oh don’t worry, I know who you really are. I’m never off your web site. Thought you’d be wearing the hat though.
Sherlock: That wasn’t my hat.
Dr. Franklyn: I hardly recognize you without the hat.
Sherlock: Wasn’t my hat.
Dr. Franklyn: I love the blog too, Dr. Watson.
Watson: Oh cheers.

Sherlock: I never did ask, Dr. Franklyn. What is it exactly that you do here?
Dr. Franklyn: Mr. Holmes, I would love to tell you. But then I’d have to kill you.
Sherlock: That would be tremendously ambitious of you.

Watson: Can we not do this this time?
Sherlock: Do what?
Watson: You being all mysterious with your cheekbones and turning your coat collar up so you look cool.
Sherlock: I don’t do that.
Watson: Yeah, you do.

Watson: So the email from Kirstie. The missing luminous rabbit.
Sherlock: Kirstie Stapleton. Whose mother specializes in genetic manipulation.
Watson: She made her daughter’s rabbit glow in the dark.
Sherlock: Probably a fluorescent gene. removed and spliced into the specimen. Simple enough these days.
Watson: So…
Sherlock: So we know that Dr. Stapleton performs secret genetic experiments on animals. the question is, has she been working on something deadlier than a rabbit.
Watson: To be fair, that is quite a wide field.

Henry: What now then?
Watson: Sherlock’s got a plan.
Sherlock: Yes.
Henry: Right.
Sherlock: We take you back out onto the moor.
Henry: Okay.
Sherlock: And see if anything attacks you.
Watson: What?
Sherlock: That should bring things to a head.

Holmes about Dr. Franklyn: He knew your father.
Henry: Yeah.
Sherlock: But he works at Baskerville. Didn’t your dad have a problem with that?
Henry: Well, mates are mates, aren’t they? I mean look at you and John.
Sherlock: What about us?
Henry: Well I mean, he’s a pretty straightforward bloke and you…

Watson: Did you hear that?
Henry: We saw it. We saw it!
Sherlock: No. I didn’t see anything.
Henry: What are you talking about?
Sherlock: I didn’t see anything.

Sherlock: Henry’s right.
Watson: What?
Sherlock: I saw it too.
Watson: What?
Sherlock: I saw it too, John.
Watson: Just… just a minute. You saw what?
Sherlock: A hound out there in the hollow. A gigantic hound!

Watson: Let’s just stick to the facts.
Sherlock: Once you rule out the impossible, whatever remains—however improbable—must be true.

Sherlock: I’ve always been able to keep myself distant. Divorce myself from feelings. But you see? Body’s betraying me. Interesting, yes? Emotions. The grease on the lenses. The fly in the ointment.
Watson: Alright. Spock. Just take it easy.

Sherlock: You want me to prove it, yes? We’re looking for a dog, yes? Could be a dog. That’s your brilliant theory. Cherchez la chien. Good.

Watson: Now why would you listen to me. I’m just your friend.
Sherlock: I don’t have friends!
Watson: Nah. Wonder why.

Henry: Listen, last night. Why did you say you hadn’t seen anything? I mean I only saw the hound for a minute—
Sherlock: Hound.
Henry: What?
Sherlock: Why do you call it a hound? Why a hound?
Henry: Why? What do you mean?
Sherlock: It’s odd, isn’t it? Strange choice of words. Archaic. It’s why I took the case. “Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound.” Why say “hound”?

Sherlock: Did you, ah, get anywhere with that Morse Code?
Watson: Nah.
Sherlock: U-M-Q-R-A, wasn’t it? Umqra.
Watson: Nothing. Look, forget it. I thought I was on to something, I wasn’t.
Sherlock: Sure?
Watson: Yeah.
Sherlock: How about Louise Mortimer? Did you get anywhere with her?
Watson: No.
Sherlock: Too bad. Did you get any information?
Watson: You’re being funny now.
Sherlock: Thought it might break the ice a bit.
Watson: Funny doesn’t suit you. Stick to ice.

Sherlock: I felt doubt. I’ve always been able to trust my own sense, the evidence of my own eyes until last night.
Watson: You can’t actually believe that you saw some kind of monster?
Sherlock: No, I can’t believe that. But I did see it, so the question is, how? How?

Sherlock: Listen. What I said before, John, I meant it. I don’t have friends. I’ve just got one.
Watson: Right. {he keeps walking}
Sherlock: John? John! You are amazing! You are fantastic!
Watson: Yes, alright. Don’t have to overdo it.
Sherlock: You’ve never been the most luminous of people, but as a conductor of light you are unbeatable.
Watson: Cheers. What?
Sherlock: Some people who aren’t geniuses have an amazing ability to stimulate it in others.
Watson: Hang on, you were saying sorry a minute ago. Don’t spoil it.

Sherlock: What the hell are you doing here?
Lestrade: Oh, nice to see you too. I’m on a holiday, would you believe.
Sherlock: No. I wouldn’t.

Sherlock: I’m waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?
Lestrade: I told you, I’m on a holiday.
Sherlock: You’re brown as a nut. You’re clearly just back from your holidays.
Lestrade: Maybe I fancied another one.
Sherlock: Oh this is Mycroft, isn’t it?
Lestrade: Now look—
Sherlock: Of course it is! One mention of Baskerville and he sends down my handler to, to spy on me incognito. Is that why you’re calling yourself Greg?
Watson: That’s his name.
Sherlock: Is it?
Watson: Yes.

Watson: I told you, I saw the hound.
Sherlock: Huge, red eyes?
Watson: Yes.
Sherlock: Glowing?
Watson: Yeah.
Sherlock: No.
Watson: What?
Sherlock: I made up the bit about glowing. You saw what you expected to see because I told you. You have been drugged. We have all been drugged.

Dr. Stapleton: Oh. Back again? What’s on your mind this time?
Sherlock: Murder, Dr. Stapleton. Refined, cold-blooded murder. Will you tell little Kirstie what happened to Bluebell or shall I?
Dr. Stapleton: Okay. What do you want?
Sherlock: Can I borrow your microscope?

Sherlock: Get out, I need to go to my mind palace.
Dr. Stapleton: Your what?
Watson: He’s not going to be doing much talking for awhile. We may as well go.

Sherlock: Someone needed to keep you quiet. Needed to keep you as a child to reassert the dream that you both clung on to. Because you had started to remember. Remember now, Henry. You’ve got to remember. What happened here when you were a little boy.
I thought it had got my dad. The hound. Oh Jesus, I don’t— I don’t know anymore! I don’t …
Sherlock: Henry, remember. “Liberty in”. Two words. Two words a frightened little boy saw here twenty years ago. You started to piece things together, remember what really happened here that night. It wasn’t an animal, was it, Henry? Not a monster. A man.

Sherlock: You couldn’t cope. You were just a child. So you rationalized it into something very different. Then you started to remember so you had to be stopped. Driven out of your mind so no one would believe a word you said.

Sherlock: Oh this case, Henry. Thank you. It’s been brilliant.
Watson: Sherlock.
Sherlock: What?
Watson: Timing.
Sherlock: No good?

Sherlock: So they didn’t have it put down then. The dog.
Watson: Obviously. Perhaps they just couldn’t bring themselves to do it.
Sherlock: I see.
Watson: No, you don’t.
Sherlock: No, I don’t. Sentiment?
Watson: Sentiment.

Watson: Listen, what happened to me in the lab?

Watson: Hang on. You thought it was in the sugar. You were convinced it was in the sugar.
Sherlock: Better get going, actually. There’s a train that leaves in half an hour, so if you want to…
Watson: Oh god. It was you. you locked me in that bloody lab.
Sherlock: I had to. It was an experiment.

Sherlock: I knew what effect it had on a superior mind so I needed to try it on an average one. You know what I mean.
Watson: But it wasn’t in the sugar.
Sherlock: Yeah well. I wasn’t to know you’d already been exposed to the gas.
Watson: So you got it wrong.
Sherlock: No.
Watson: You were wrong. It wasn’t in the sugar. You got it wrong.
Sherlock: A bit. Won’t happen again.

The Reichenbach Fall

Lestrade (Rupert Graves): And there’s one person we have to thank for giving us the decisive leads. With all his customary diplomacy and tact.
Watson: Sarcasm.
Sherlock: Yes.Sherlock: Boffin! Boffin Sherlock Holmes.
Watson: Everybody gets one.
Sherlock: One what?
Watson: Tabloid nickname.Sherlock: Why’s it always the hat photograph?
Watson: “Bachelor John Watson.”
Sherlock: What kind of hat is it anyway?
Watson: “Bachelor.” What the hell are they implying?
Sherlock: Is it a cap— ? Why’s it got two fronts?
Watson: It’s a deerstalker. “Frequently seen in the company of bachelor John Watson.”
Sherlock: How do you stalk a deer with a hat? What are you going to do, throw it? {he tries}
Watson: Confirmed bachelor John Watson.
Sherlock: Some sort of death frisbee?
Watson: Okay, this is too much. We need to be more careful.
Sherlock: It’s got flaps. Ear flaps. It’s an ear hat, John! What do you mean, “more careful”?
Watson: I mean, this isn’t a deerstalker now. It’s a Sherlock Holmes hat. I mean that you’re not exactly a private detective anymore. You’re this far from famous.
Sherlock: Oh, it’ll pass.
Watson: It better pass. The press will turn, Sherlock. They always turn. And they’ll turn on you.
Sherlock: It really bothers you.
Watson: What?
Sherlock: What people say.
Watson: Yes.
Sherlock: About me. I don’t understand, why would it upset you?
Watson: Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourself a little case this week. Stay out of the news.Watson about the suicidal mannequin: So. Did you just talk to him for a really long time?
Sherlock: Oh! Henry Fishguard never committed suicide. Bow Street runners. Missed everything.
Watson: Pressing case, is it?
Sherlock: They’re all pressing ’til they’re solved.Watson handing him the phone: Here.
Sherlock: Not now, I’m busy.
Watson: Sherlock.
Sherlock: Not now!
Watson: He’s back.

Watson: Remember—
Sherlock: Yes.
Watson: Remember—
Sherlock: Yes.
Watson: Remember what they told you. Don’t try to be clever—
Sherlock: I know.
Watson: —and please just keep it simple and brief.
Sherlock: I’m confident a star witness at a trial should come across as intelligent.
Watson: Intelligent, fine. Let’s give smartass a wide berth.
Sherlock: I’ll just be myself.
Watson: Are you listening to me?

Sherlock: There are two types of fans.
Kitty Reilly (Katherine Parkinson): Oh?
Sherlock: “Catch me before I kill again.” Type A.
Kitty Reilly: Uh huh. What’s type B?
Sherlock: Your bedroom’s just a taxi ride away.
Kitty Reilly: Guess which one I am.
Sherlock: Neither.
Kitty Reilly: Really?
Sherlock: No, you’re not a fan at all.

Kitty Reilly: There’s all sorts of gossip in the press about you. Sooner or later you’re gonna need someone on your side. Someone to set the record straight.
Sherlock: You think you’re the girl for that job, do you?
Kitty Reilly: I’m smart. And you can trust me. Totally.
Sherlock: Smart? Okay. Investigative journalist. Good.

Barrister: “A consulting criminal.”
Sherlock: Yes.
Barrister: Your words. Can you expand on that answer?
Sherlock: James Moriarty is for hire.
Barrister: A tradesman?
Sherlock: Yes.
Barrister: But not the sort who’d fix your heating.
Sherlock: No, the sort who’d plant a bomb or stage an assassination, but I’m sure he’d make a pretty decent job of your boiler.

Barrister: Would you describe him as—
Sherlock: Leading.
Barrister: What?
Sherlock: Can’t do that, you’re leading the witness.

Barrister: How would you describe this man? His character.
Sherlock: First mistake. James Moriarty isn’t a man at all. He’s a spider. A spider at the center of a web. A criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances.

Barrister: And how long—
Sherlock: No no. Don’t, don’t do that. That’s really not a good question.
Judge: Mr. Holmes.
Sherlock: How long have I known him? Not really your best line of inquiry. We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun, he tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something.

Watson: What did I say? I said “don’t get clever.”
Sherlock: I can’t just turn it off and on like a tap.

Watson: Bank of England, Tower of London, Pentonville. Three of the most secure places in the country and six weeks ago Moriarty breaks in, no one knows how or why. All we know is—
Sherlock: He ended up in custody.

Watson: Don’t do that.
Sherlock: Do what?
Watson: The Look.
Sherlock: The Look?
Watson: You’re doing The Look again.
Sherlock: I can’t see it, can I? {he looks in the mirror} It’s my face?
Watson: Yes, and it’s doing a thing. You’re doing a “We both know what’s really going on here” face.
Sherlock: Well we do.
Watson: No. I don’t. Which is why I find The Face so annoying.

Sherlock: If Moriarty wanted the jewels he’d have them. If he wanted those prisoners free they’d be out on the streets. The only reason he’s still in a prison cell right now is because he chose to be there. Somehow this is part of his scheme.

Sherlock: Most people knock. But then you’re not most people I suppose. Kettle’s just boiled.

Moriarty: You know when he was on his deathbed—Bach—he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces. The boy stopped before he got to the end.
Sherlock: And the dying man jumped out of bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it.
: Couldn’t cope with an unfinished melody.
Sherlock: Neither can you, it’s why you’ve come.
Moriarty: But be honest. You’re just a tiny bit pleased.
Sherlock: What, with the verdict?
Moriarty: With me. Back on the streets. Every fairy tale needs a good old fashioned villain.

Moriarty: You need me, or you’re nothing. Because we’re just alike, you and I. Except you’re boring. You’re on the side of the angels.
Sherlock: Got to the jury of course.
Moriarty: Got into the Tower of London. You think I can’t worm my way into twelve hotel rooms?

Sherlock: How are you going to do it? “Burn me”?
Moriarty: Oh that’s the problem. The Final Problem. Have you worked out what it is yet? What’s the final problem? I did tell you. But did you listen?

Moriarty: How hard do you find it? Having to say, “I don’t know.”?
Sherlock: I don’t know.
Moriarty: Oh that’s clever. That’s very clever. Awfully clever. Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?
Sherlock: Told them what?
Moriarty: Why I broke into all those places and never took anything.
Sherlock: No.
Moriarty: But you understand.
Sherlock: Obviously.
Moriarty: Off you go then.
Sherlock: You want me to tell you what you already know.
Moriarty: No, I want you to prove that you know it.
Sherlock: You didn’t take anything because you don’t need to.
Moriarty: Good.
Sherlock: You’ll never need to take anything ever again.
Moriarty: Very good. Because…
Sherlock: Because nothing—nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London or Pentonville Prison could possibly match the value of the key that could get you in to all three.
Moriarty: I can open any door anywhere with a few tiny lines of computer code. No such thing as a private bank account now, they’re all mine. No such thing as secrecy. I own secrecy. Nuclear codes. I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king, and honey, you should see me in a crown.
Sherlock: You were advertising all the way through the trial. You were showing the world what you can do.
Moriarty: And you were helping. Big client list. Rogue governments. Intelligence communities. Terror cells. They all want me. Suddenly, I’m Mr. Sex.
Sherlock: You could break any bank. What do you care about the highest bidder?
Moriarty: I don’t. I just like to watch them all competing. “Daddy loves me the best!”. Aren’t ordinary people adorable? Well you know. You’ve got John. I should get myself a live-in one.

Sherlock: Why are you doing all of this?
Moriarty: It’d be so funny.
Sherlock: You don’t want money or power, not really. What is it all for?
Moriarty: I want to solve the problem. Our problem. The Final Problem. It’s going to start very soon, Sherlock. The Fall. But don’t be scared. Falling’s just like flying except there’s a more permanent destination.
Sherlock: Never liked riddles.
Moriarty: Learn to. Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock. I. O. U.

Two months later

Sherlock: Miss Mackenzie, you’re in charge of pupil welfare, yet you left this place wide open last night! What are you? An idiot, a drunk or a criminal?! Now quickly! Tell me!
Miss Mackenzie: All the doors and windows were properly bolted. No one—not even me—went into their room last night. You have to believe me.
Sherlock: I do. I just wanted you to speak quickly. {to the officers} Miss Mackenzie will need to breathe into a bag now.

Sherlock: Brilliant, Anderson.
Anderson: Really?
Sherlock: Yes. Brilliant impression of an idiot.

Watson: Having fun?
Sherlock: Starting to.
Watson: Maybe don’t do the smiling. Kidnapped children.

Sherlock: Molly!
Molly Hooper: Oh hello. I’m just going out.
Sherlock: No you’re not.
Molly: I’ve got a lunch date.
Sherlock: Cancel it. You’re having lunch with me.
Molly: What?
Sherlock: I need your help. It’s one of your boyfriends. We’re trying to track him down. He’s been a bit naughty.
Watson: It’s Moriarty?
Sherlock: ‘Course it’s Moriarty.
Molly: Jim wasn’t actually my boyfriend. We went out three times. I ended it.
Sherlock: Yes, and he stole the Crown Jewels, broke into the Bank of England and organized a prison break at Pentonville. For the sake of law and order I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly.

Molly: Alkaline.
Sherlock: Thank you, John.
Molly: Molly.
Sherlock: Yes.

Molly Hooper: You’re a bit like my dad. He’s dead. No, sorry—
Sherlock: Molly, please don’t feel the need to make conversation. It’s really not your area.
Molly: When he was dying, he was always cheerful, he was lovely. Except when he thought no one could see. I saw him once. He looked sad.
Sherlock: Molly.
Molly: You look sad. When you think he can’t see you.

Molly: Are you okay? Don’t just say you are, because I know what that means—looking sad when you think no one can see you.
Sherlock: You can see me.
Molly: I don’t count. What I’m trying to say is, if there’s anything I can do—anything you need, anything at all—you can have me. No, I just mean. I mean, if there’s anything you need, it’s fine.
Sherlock: What could I need from you?
Molly: Nothing. I don’t know. You could probably say thank you, actually.
Sherlock: Thank you.

Molly: I’m just going to go and get some crisps. Do you want anything? It’s okay. I know you don’t.
Sherlock: Well actually, maybe I—
Molly: I know you don’t.

Watson: What sort of kidnapper leaves clues?
Sherlock: The sort that likes to boast, the sort that think it’s all a game. He sat in our flat and he said these exact words to me: “All fairy tales need a good old fashioned villain.”

Sherlock: Stop the cab! Stop the cab! What was that?
Moriarty: No charge.

Sherlock: He died because he shook my hand.
Watson: What do you mean?
: He saved my life but he couldn’t touch me. Why?

Sherlock: Four assassins living right on our doorstep. They didn’t come here to kill me. They have to keep me alive. I’ve got something that all of them want. And if one of them approaches me…
Watson: The others kill them before they can get it.

Sherlock: You can’t kill an idea, can you? Not once it’s made a home. {he taps his forehead} There.
Lestrade: Will you come?
Sherlock: One photograph. That’s his next move. First the scream, then a photograph of me being taken in for questioning. He wants to destroy me inch-by-inch. It is a game, Lestrade. And not one I’m willing to play. Give my regards to Sergeant Donovan.

Sherlock: They’ll be deciding.
Watson: Deciding?
Sherlock: Whether to come back with a warrant and arrest me.
Watson: You think?
Sherlock: Standard procedure.
Watson: You should have gone with him. People will think—
Sherlock: I don’t care what people think.
Watson: You’d care if they thought you were stupid or wrong.
Sherlock: No. That would just make them stupid or wrong.
Watson: Sherlock, I don’t want the world believing you’re…
Sherlock: That I am what?
Watson: A fraud.
Sherlock: You’re worried they’re right.
Watson: What?
Sherlock: You’re worried they’re right about me.
Watson: No.
Sherlock: That’s why you’re so upset. You can’t even entertain the possiblity that they might be right. You’re afraid that you’ve been taken in as well.
Watson: No I’m not.
: Moriarty is playing with your mind too. Can’t you see what’s going on!
Watson: No, I know you’re for real.
Sherlock: A hundred percent.
Watson: Nobody can fake being such an annoying dick all the time.

Sherlock: Joining me?
Watson: Yeah. Apparently it’s against the law to chin the Chief Superintendent.
Sherlock: Bit awkward, this.
Watson: There’s no one to bail us.
Sherlock: I was thinking more about our imminent and daring escape.

Watson: Just so you’re aware, the gun is his idea. I’m just a… you know…
Sherlock: My hostage!
Watson: Hostage. Yes, that works. That works. So what now?
Sherlock: Doing what Moriarty wants: becoming a fugitive. Run.

Sherlock: Take my hand.
Watson: Now people will definitely talk.

Sherlock: Everybody wants to believe it, tThat’s what makes it so clever. A lie that’s preferable to the truth. All my brilliant deductions were just a sham. No one feels inadequate. Sherlock Holmes is just an ordinary man.
Watson: What about Mycroft? He can help us.
Sherlock: Big family reconciliation? Now’s not really the moment.

Sherlock: Tell me what you want from me. Tell me!
Assassin: He left it at your flat.
Sherlock: Who?
Assassin: Moriarty.
Sherlock: What?
Assassin: The computer key code.
Sherlock: Of course. He’s selling it. The program he used to break into the Tower. He planted it when he came around.

Sherlock: It’s a game changer. It’s a key that can break into any system and it’s sitting in our flat right now. That’s why he left that message—telling everyone where to come. “Get Sherlock”.

Sherlock: Too late to go on the record?

Watson: Can he do that? Completely change his identity? Make you the criminal.
Sherlock: He’s got my whole life story. That’s what you do. You sell a big lie. Wrap it up in a truth to make it more palatable.
Watson: It’ll be your word against his.
Sherlock: He’s been sowing doubt into people’s minds over the last twenty-four hours. There’s only one thing he needs to do to complete his game, and that’s—
Watson: Sherlock?
Sherlock: There’s something I need to do.
Watson: Well can I help?
Sherlock: No, on my own.

Sherlock: You’re wrong, you know. You do count. You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you. But you were right. I’m not okay.
Molly: Tell me what’s wrong.
Sherlock: Molly, I think I’m going to die.
Molly: What do you need?
Sherlock: If I wasn’t everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am, would you still want to help me?
Molly: What do you need?
Sherlock: You.

Come and play.
Bart’s Hospital rooftop.
PS. Got something of yours you might want back.

Sherlock: What is it?
Watson: Paramedics. Mrs. Hudson’s been shot.
Sherlock: What. How.
Watson: Probably one of the killers you managed to attract. Jesus. Jesus. She’s dying. Sherlock, let’s go.
Sherlock: You go, I’m busy.
Watson: Busy?
Sherlock: Thinking. I need to think.
Watson: You need to— Doesn’t she mean anything to you? You once half-killed a man because he laid a finger on her.
Sherlock: She’s my landlady.
Watson: She’s dying you machine! Sod this. Sod this, you stay here if you want. On your own.
Sherlock: Alone is what I have. Alone protects me.
Watson: No. Friends protect people.

Moriarty: Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get ya?
Sherlock: Richard Brook.
Moriarty: Nobody seems to get the joke. But you do.
Sherlock: Of course.
Moriarty: ‘Atta boy.
Sherlock: Rich Brook in German is Reichenbach. The case that made my name.
Moriarty: Just tryin’ to have some fun. {Holmes starts tapping} Good. You got that too.
Sherlock: Beats like digits. Every beat is a one, every rest is a zero. Binary code.That’s why all those assassins tried to save my life. It was hidden on me, hidden inside my head. A few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system.
Moriarty: Told all my clients. Last one to Sherlock is a sissy.

Moriarty: I knew you’d fall for it. That’s your weakness. You always want everything to be clever. Now shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you chose a tall building. Nice way to do it.
Sherlock: Do it. Do what? Yes, of course. My suicide.
Moriarty: “Genius detective proved to be a fraud.” I read it in the paper so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairy tales… and pretty grim ones too.

Sherlock: I can still prove that you created an entirely false identity.
Moriarty: Oh just kill yourself. It’s a lot less effort. Go on. For me.

Sherlock: You’re insane.
Moriarty: You’re just getting that now? Okay, let me give you a little extra incentive. Your friends will die if you don’t.
Sherlock: John.
Moriarty: Not just John. Everyone.

Moriarty: Three bullets. Three gunmen. Three victims. There’s no stopping them now. Unless my people see you jump. You can have me arrested, you can torture me. You can do anything you like with me, but nothing’s going to prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only three friends in the world will die. Unless—
Sherlock: Unless I kill myself and complete your story.
Moriarty: You gotta admit, that’s sexier.
Sherlock: And I die in disgrace.
Moriarty: Of course. That’s the point of this.

Moriarty: Off you pop. I told you how this ends. Go on. Your death is the only thing that’s going to call off the killers. I’m certainly not going to do it.

Moriarty: What?! What is it? What did I miss?
Sherlock: You’re not going to do it. So the killers can be called off then. There’s a recall code or a word or a number. I don’t have to die if I’ve got you.
Moriarty: Oh, you think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?
Sherlock: Yes. So do you.
Moriarty: Sherlock, your big brother and all the King’s horses couldn’t make me do a thing I didn’t want to.
Sherlock: Yes, but I’m not my brother, remember? I am you. Prepared to do anything. Prepared to burn. Prepared to do what ordinary people won’t do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell, I shall not disappoint you.
Moriarty: Nah. You talk big. Nah. You’re ordinary. You’re ordinary. You’re on the side of the angels.
Sherlock: Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don’t think for one second that I am one of them.
Moriarty: No. You’re not. I see. You’re not ordinary. No. You’re me. You’re me. Thank you. Sherlock Holmes. Thank you. Bless you. As long as I’m alive, you can save your friends. You’ve got a way out. Well good luck with that. {he kills himself}

Watson: Sherlock, are you okay?
: Turn around and walk back the way you came.
Watson: No, I’m coming in.
Sherlock: Just. Do as I ask. Please.
Watson: Where?
Sherlock: Stop there.
Watson: Sherlock.
Sherlock: Okay, look up. I’m on the rooftop.
Watson: Oh god.
Sherlock: I— I— I can’t come down so we’ll just have to do it like this.
Watson: What’s going on?
Sherlock: An apology. It’s all true.
Watson: What?
Sherlock: Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty.
Watson: Why are you saying this?
Sherlock: I’m a fake.
Watson: Sherlock—
Sherlock: The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson and Molly. In fact, tell anyone who will listen to you. That I created Moriarty for my own purposes.
Watson: Okay, shut up, Sherlock. Shut up. The first time we met—the first time we met—you knew all about my sister, right?
Sherlock: Nobody could be that clever.
Watson: You could.
Sherlock: I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you. It’s a trick. Its just a magic trick.
Watson: No. Alright, stop it now.
Sherlock: No, stay exactly where you are. Don’t move.
Watson: Alright.
Sherlock: Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please, will you do this for me?
Watson: Do what?
: This phone call, it’s… it’s my note. That’s what people do, don’t they? Leave a note.
Watson: Leave a note when?
Sherlock: Goodbye, John.
Watson: No. Don’t—