Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Molly Hooper, Greg Lestrade
Rating: PG
Word Count: 520
Prompt: pick up the closest book to hand. Open at random, and place your finger at random on the page. That word must be either the word you begin your story with or the word with which it ends. You have one freebie if you don't like your first word choice. My first word was AND.  I chose to finish this section with my second word.
Notes: Written rapidly for the tenth day of the July Writing Prompts on watsons_woes

Follows on directly from Out of the Frying Pan

John groaned as he tried to sit up.  “I’m supposed to be on that train,” he said as he watched it slowly moving off.

“It’s alright, we got off it,” Molly said.  “Sit quietly, there’s no need to worry.”

“Where are we?  It’s a bit grassy for a station platform.”

“We had to get off a bit before the station, mate.”  Greg had crawled back up the embankment to join them.

“Ah, Sherlock had a plan?”

“No, not quite.”

“Where is he?”  John’s voice rose as he started to panic again.

“He’ll be with us soon,” Greg tried to sound reassuring.  Molly raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question, but Greg merely shrugged his shoulders.

“I think it would be a good idea if we moved,” he added.  “Do you think you can walk if I help you?”

John looked puzzled.  “I think so.  But shouldn’t we wait for Sherlock?”

“It’s okay, if we move now Sherlock will catch us up,” Molly said.

“A good idea.  I’m surprised you’re still here.”  Sherlock’s voice made them all jump.

“You’ve come back for me.  I’m sorry I missed the train, Sherlock,” John said.

“You didn’t John, we were on it earlier.”

“And now we’re on a very grassy station platform.  I don’t remember being here before.”

“Probably not.  Now we really do need to move before Moran discovers that neither I nor you had the box and come looking for us.”

John continued to look confused, so Sherlock and Greg each put an arm around him and half pulled him up the embankment.  The railway line was fenced off, but Molly spotted a gate further along and the three men made their way towards it in a rather crab-like fashion, John apologising every few yards for missing the train.

Once through the gate they found themselves on a country lane.  There was a bend in the road and the next field was bordered by a hedge, so they leant John on the field side of the hedge and left Molly to keep an eye on him, whilst they took stock of their surroundings.

 “Where now?” Greg asked.

“Much as it pains me to admit it I think we are going to need reinforcements,” Sherlock replied.  “Moran and at least part of his gang are in the farmhouse over there.  We are in no position to confront them and I have already contacted Mycroft.  In fact the distant sound of a siren probably indicates that my brother has for once, as the vernacular would put it, ‘got his arse in gear’.”

The two men turned round and saw John was now lying down and Molly was bending over him, telling him not to go back to sleep.  Then they heard the sound of a vehicle speeding along the lane, much closer to them than the presumed police car.  Instinctively Sherlock and Greg took cover behind the hedge beside John and Molly.  A volley of shots rang out as the vehicle went past them.

The Landrover didn’t stop, and after about thirty seconds Greg said shakily, “Are you all alright?”

“Yes,” Molly replied.  “Are you?”