"What do I think of Sherlock? He's, um… Well. He's certainly a character, that's for sure," John shrugs. He is sitting on the couch in 221B Baker Street and shifts uncomfortably as a microphone is lowered down closer to his face.
"Is that all you have to say on the subject?" a man standing outside of the video camera's frame asks.
John makes a face and looks at him past the camera. "I'm sorry, what is this for again?"
"Please answer the question, Dr. Watson."
-x-
Mary thought for a moment. John is no longer in the shot, and his wife is sitting where he used to be. "I like him," she finally answers.
The woman shrugs. A sly smile spreads across her face.
-x-
Unlike the others, Lestrade isn't on the couch in the flat. He's at his own desk chair at Scotland Yard. The Detective Inspector strums his fingers over the arm of his chair, tongue in cheek.
"Sherlock is… one the greatest men I've have the privilege of working with. That being said, he's also perhaps one of the most infuriating."
Lestrade snickers a little at his own remark and looks into the camera cheekily.
-x-
"No, seriously, are you making a documentary or something?" John inquired. The shot was now of him back on the sofa. "I don't remember signing anything. Doesn't there have to be some sort of contract, or…?
-x-
Molly nodded vigorously. "Oh, yeah, of course I know Sherlock! We've worked together for years. In a manner of speaking. Sorry, what was that? What do I think of him? Oh. Well."
She chuckles softly. Molly presses a fingertip to her lower lip.
"That's, um… That's a bit of a complicated question."
Molly laughs, but this quickly dies out again.
-x-
"He's my best friend. Is that the answer you were looking for? Happy? You got that all on tape? Can I leave now?"
"Dr. Watson, please stay seat-"
"No! Look, I have things to do, alright? This… Whatever this is… This is ridiculous. I'm leaving."
"John!"
John promptly ignores the interviewer, getting up out of the sofa and stepping over a series of ridiculously thick and slightly tangled cords as he attempts to leave the frame.
-x-
No one was really sure who had authorized the shooting. An entire camera crew just showed up at New Scotland Yard one day with all the proper documentation and approval to begin filming the latest season of the hit reality TV show Behind Closed Doors, which aimed to provide viewers with an insider's look into various workplaces. However, for better or for worse the show did a much better job stirring up drama amongst its current cast members than anything else. And perhaps that was why its ratings were so high.
At first Sherlock didn't think much of the movie trailers parked outside the Yard. It wasn't unusual for brief scenes to be shot in a real precinct, and when that was the case as a general rule it didn't interfere with ongoing police work. So Sherlock saw no reason why he shouldn't be able to stop by and drop off some evidence he'd finished analyzing for one of Lestrade's more minor cases. However, upon entering the Yard Sherlock was immediately bombarded with multiple heavy-duty cameras, hanging microphones, and flood lights.
Before he had time to even question this, Lestrade was suddenly at the detective's side, shaking his hand and grinning falsely. "Sherlock!" the man let out. "Sherlock Holmes! How great to see you!"
"Is it really?"
"Yes! I've been wondering when you would stop by."
"Have you?" Sherlock took a step back and gave the Detective Inspector a skeptical once-over. "Because if I didn't know better I'd assume you had a gun to your head. I don't suppose the houseguests have anything to do with it, mm?"
"Sorry?" Lestrade asked, tilting his head.
Sherlock turned to glare directly into one of the cameras now, which was steadily zooming in on him via a wheeled tripod.
"You're, uh… You're not supposed to acknowledge them," Lestrade whispered, sounding a bit more like himself now. "I realize you missed the briefing earlier, but if you follow me into my office I'll be very happy to explain everything."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Briefing?"
"Yeah, I'd love to catch up!" Lestrade exclaimed at a considerably higher volume. "C'mon, I'll show you to my office." Fake smile plastered back on, the D.I. swung an arm around Sherlock and began to lead him further into the building.
Once they were safely inside Lestrade's office and the cameramen had directed their attention elsewhere, Lestrade proceeded to explain the situation in full to the consulting detective.
"Even crime scenes?" Sherlock asked, leaning forward in the seat opposite Lestrade's desk.
"I don't know," the other man shrugged, "probably? From what I understand they film everything and sort out what they can and can't use during editing."
"Well. I don't envy you, Inspector." On that note Sherlock took a ziplock bag containing what looked like several metal plates and set them down in front of Lestrade, explaining "These were why I stopped by, anyway." He then stood up again and made for the door. "Think I'll stay holed up in the flat for a week or so, at least until this whole thing blows over. I don't typically do screen time." As he left the office he was immediately spotted by one of the cameras, which locked itself onto him as he made his way through the room. In hopes of rendering the footage unusable, Sherlock held up a middle finger towards it the entire time.
Unfortunately for him, Sherlock was wrong about two things: the first in thinking that lewd hand gestures wouldn't be blurred and used on the show anyway. The second, and much more significant of the two, was that he assumed avoiding the Yard would keep him off of Behind Closed Doors. The following week would come to prove quite the opposite.
-x-
"Sherlock! What's wrong?" John asked, slightly out of breath from having run all the way up the steps to 221B Baker Street. He hovered in the doorway for a moment and scanned his eyes across the room. Sherlock was currently seated in his armchair in the living room. He didn't recognize the five other men armed with bulky film equipment.
"Sorry, are we filming a sitcom?"
"Reality," Sherlock replied coolly. "Unscripted and equally thoughtless, if not more so."
John squinted. "I… I got your text."
"Yes, I figured that's why you were here."
"You said there was an emergency?"
"Yes. You're looking at it." Sherlock held out the palms of his hands, gesturing to the film crew around himself. "Now make them go away."
"How…?"
"If I knew I wouldn't be asking you for help!" the detective huffed back.
John pursed his lips and looked around at the crew. "So… this is going to be on telly? What network?"
"Oh God, don't encourage them…"
-x-
It is Sherlock's turn to be interviewed on his own sofa.
"Okay, so here's the deal: whenever someone says something particularly stupid, I'm going to look directly into the camera, just as I'm doing now. When you see that I want you to slowly zoom in on me, got it?"
"Sherlock…" John's voice warns from out of the frame.
"Shush. I'm directing. Alright, now let's practice: John, say something dumb."
Sherlock turns expectantly towards John, who the camera pans over to show is seated at the opposite end of the sofa. John furrows his brows back at the man.
"Having fun with this, are we?"
The camera pans back. Sherlock whips his head around at it with an extremely unamused blank face. The cameraman zooms in ever so slowly.
-x-
"Jesus, your mobile is absolutely blowing up!" Mary exclaimed. She'd been in the middle of washing dishes and paused to turn off the water and looked over her shoulder to frown down at John's phone, which had been left on the kitchen table and hadn't stopped buzzing in the past five minutes.
"It's Sherlock," John groaned back. "There's some… weird reality TV thing going on down at Scotland Yard and he made the mistake of walking in on it. The film crew has apparently since followed him home and I guess he wants me to get involved and distract them or something."
Mary hummed thoughtfully. "Well. That sounds interesting, at least. Mix things up a bit."
"Sherlock seems to find it absolutely hellish."
"And what do you think?"
John hesitated, thinking for a moment. "I can see where it gets annoying," he answered finally. "But… it's been innocent so far. And I doubt they'll be allowed to get in the way of actual cases, so as soon as something comes up I'm sure they'll be out of the Yard's hair."
"Huh. Maybe I'll stop by and check it out later today," Mary muttered, turning the sink back on.