It had taken three hours, 20 minutes, and 59 seconds of adamant persuasion (and a bit of outright begging) to convince Sherlock abandon his experiment and sit down, and another two hours to make him "shut up and watch the bloody program!". It seemed that the consulting detective had no use for television unless the weather forecasters were revealing a secret message in the weather maps, or, more likely, something was very, very, wrong. So it was no surprise to John that his flatmate was decidedly contemptuous of the new show John had discovered, despite lacking any idea whatsoever as to what it was about.
By the time Sherlock was in his chair, smirking at the DVD menu screen, John was struggling to keep himself from strangling the taller man with his bare hands. However, he was used to Sherlock's childlike stubbornness, so, biting his lip forcefully and glaring at his flatmate, he sat down and immediately pressed "play all" on the remote.
The episode began. Orchestral-sounding violin music started to play, and Sherlock wrinkled his nose.
"John, did you really think I could tolerate this? Listen. This rubbish is for all you boring people who spend your time watching idiotic programs a child could have come up with...not me!" he exclaimed, getting up from his chair and heading for the door. "I'm off to St. Bart's. Oh, and pick up some milk later, we're running lo-"
"Shut up and look! Look what it says!" John cried, interrupting Sherlock.
Sherlock stopped where he was, halfway between the sofa and the door. He froze, staring at the word on the screen.
The word surrounded by a large image of the instantly recognizable London skyline.
The word he knew only too well.
"Sh-sh-sherlock?" he whispered.