“Oh, that’s so romantic!” Jim sighed, physically dragging Sherlock in his chair towards the window so he could have a good look outside. There was absolutely no traffic at all, just a lot of dark, stormy, snowy streets and blocks of warehouses to look at with a ghostly view of the city in the background. Sherlock would be able to see the car approach, however. When it did finally come. “But you know I’d stop you from dying, right? It’s very easy to retrieve a tongue and veeeeeery easy to stop the bleeding. But it’s still so sweet. You must tell John about it when he comes.”

Jim leaned on the back of the chair for a few minutes before he finally went to fetch a dustpan and clean up the mess. He could have had any number of his associates do it, but Moran was busy and he didn’t want Sherlock seeing anyone else’s face.

They were just little red dots to him and would remain that way if Jim had any say in the matter and!

He did! He had all the say in all the matters!

“But now you’re making me jealous. Will you swallow your tongue for me too? Like. If I asked just really nicely?"