Sherwho and the human reptiles.

This is just a little story I thought I would have a go writing up, SOOO much thanks to Ohthatfangirl who was the inspiration after reading her very very very good story "A Study In Scarlett".

Sitting in his favourite armchair in 221b Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes was thinking about what he had just seen. How had this day even been possible?

Two days previously had been a normal boring Thursday. He had woken from his 20 minuet brain power nap at 03:00 to find the flat dark and quiet as usual (john's brain needed longer to hibernate than his). Bored, he worked through some cold case notes Lestrade had given him to prevent him shooting more holes in Mrs Hudson's walls , when he heard a noise not natural to this earth, let alone Baker street. A mix between a washing machine on spin and a gentle thrum of a car engine, the noise when up and down in volume before a 'thunk' set an end note to the odd sound. Though intrigued by this, Sherlock couldn't be bothered to investigate further, so put the thought into a small blue box in a spare room in his mind palace.

John woke up at seven thirty to find Sherlock in his usual armchair, with case files spread all over the place. Rolling his eyes and greeting his messy flatmate he walked into the equally messy kitchen to make himself some jam on toast, naturally checking for small body parts before even contemplating putting it anywhere near his toast. Sherlock was a genius- there was no doubting this fact, but his experiments did seem to leak out into places they definitely shouldn't be. For example John had gone to get the milk from the fridge once, only to find it sandwiched neatly between a pair of severed feet (he had had black tea for a week after that), Sherlock had claimed that this experiment required to coolness on all sides of the feet possible and that the milk was the best object for the job.

Finishing the memory gladly, Sherlock's mobile rung from the living room.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" asked John after the 7th ring. But Sherlock seemed in one of his 'deep in thought' moods, staring blankly into thin air and didn't respond.

In his mind palace, Sherlock could hear a faint ringing sound from outside the window of the room he was in, calling him back into reality.

"Sherlock Holmes" he said, answering the phone sharply.

"Finally, I've been trying to call you for fifteen minutes" It was DI Lestrade sounding annoyed.

"Well it must be important or you would have given up after five of those minuets" sighed Sherlock, hoping for a decent reason to be so rudely interrupted from his thinking.

"Yes, it is important, there has been a murder, sort of, in the car park of Scotland yard, the whole building seems to have come to have a look but no one can seem to work out what happened." A confused and averagely out of his depth Lestrade replied.

"We'll be there in 20 minutes" Sherlock responded and ended the call. He leaped out of his chair as john asked what was going on.

"A murder, John, Sounds interesting, apparently no one in the whole of Scotland Yard can work it out!" chirped Sherlock with his sly 'I'm a genius and I know it' smile.

John smiled to himself as he jogged up to his bedroom to get dressed, ready to face whatever puzzling murder was waiting for them at Scotland Yard.

When they arrived, there were about 200 people standing around the tapped off crime scene, and countless others hanging out of windows trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on in the car park below. John and Sherlock battled their way through the crowd, John apologising for Sherlock's pushy nature, until they reached the centre of the throng. Once they had reached it they stopped, the victim before them seemed to be in some odd green scaly fancy dress, obviously a professional job because the tiny green scales looked like they could actually have been their skin. John looked to Sherlock; he enjoyed watching the imaginary cogs in his brain turn.

Sherlock's brain buzzed with excitement as he viewed the odd scene, straight away noticing (the very noticeable) green scaly skin, the elongated and curved surface of the back of the head and the dark reptilian eyes that stared blankly at the sky.

Lestrade stopped him as he went to examine the body more closely.

"Sorry Sherlock, stuff has happened since I called you, no one's allowed near the body now."

Sherlock glared at Lestrade who gave a 'it's gone over my head' look in response.

"What now then?" said john voicing Sherlock's thoughts as he turned away from Lestrade to look at a new figure in an odd attire of a tweed jacket, red braces and a deep blue bow tie who stepped through the officers lining the scene, flashing credentials as he went. Standing by the body and pulling out a mega phone from under his jacket and shouting.

"Officers, Spectators and general people standing in earshot", to which the crowd hushed and shushed each other into quiet "This crime scene is to be evacuated and left to the lovely people in charge to sort out, so could you, pretty please with a cherry on top, leave the vicinity, thanks" the crowd shuffled, a few people left and a few windows closed but most of the horde stayed where they were. The strange man didn't seem pleased with this.

"Now!" he said into the megaphone with confidence and authority, then the crowd started to disband with grumbles and complaints.