Joan doesn't respond to the kiss, and her hand is limp in his. She's still breathing, but barely.

Sherlock's expression is grim, his jaw tight, his eyes full of unshed tears. He shakes his head. "Nothing," he says, his voice rough. "She's been poisoned with cyanide. Her life depends on the medics arriving with the antidote. If you are a praying man, Mr. Lasso, I suggest you pray."