"It was painted over! There was graffiti there... ten minutes ago..." said John.
"Somebody doesn't want me to see them," said Sherlock, grabbing John's head. "John, concentrate. I need you to concentrate. Close your eyes."
"Wh-what? Why? Why? What are you doing?"
"I need you to maximise your visual memory. Try to picture what you saw. Can you picture it?"
"Yeah... " John was getting slightly disorientated with Sherlock spinning him around like that.
Can you remember it?"
"Yes, definitely!"
"You remember the pattern?"
"Yes!"
"How much can you remember it?"
"Well, don't worry!" reassured John.
"Because the average human memory on visual matters is only sixty-two percent accurate," he informed, finally coming to a halt.
Before John could get an answer in, Sherlock ripped off both his gloves with his teeth and placed his hands back on John's head, closing his eyes and took a sharp intake of breath.
He gasped. "You. Y-You're... inside... my... my mind..."
Sherlock opened his eyes and drew his hands away.
"And what an average mind it is. I could only get about half the symbols."
John was so stunned that he missed the condescending comment and just opened and closed his mouth in surprise.
Sherlock shook his coat and started walking away. "And don't go telling anyone either... I have enough trouble as it is deciphering the code-as much as I could get," he called over his shoulder.
John shook his head to snap out of his stupor and ran to catch up with Sherlock, still trying to get over what had just happened.
"Sherlock!"
"What?"
John stopped to catch his breath, fumbling in his jacket pocket.
"I took a picture."
Hope you liked it! Yeah, it just popped into my head when I was watching 1.2.
