John is what some may call a dreamer. Although behind the mass amount of worry he may show, he is a positive thinker. It is true that the outcome is always greater if the expectation is the least but expectations are kept high for the hope that someone meets or surpasses them. And Sherlock did just that.

Perhaps it was his intellect that kept him above par. It wasn't like he was the smartest man alive. He just looked at things...differently. His thought process was so complex that it seemed as though no one could comprehend or even dare to match it. Usually this was a strength, his complex thinking solving many mysterious events in London, but even so, John as a witness, it was also tearing away at his insides. John always hoped that the comfort of himself was enough to keep Sherlock in line, and for the most part it was. Afterall, they have been partners for years. It was only natural for them to, "fit the broken pieces together".

But John, being a dreamer, hoped that one day he could finally crack the complex mind Sherlock possesed. Both of them knew that the only way that would happen is if Sherlock allows it, but after years of pain, one's mind subconsciencely places obstacles and barriers, to avoid getting hurt.

Nothing a little trust couldn't solve.

But no matter how much trust they have between each other, John knows that Sherlock himself has yet to crack open his own mind. Noone knows you better then yourself, but that may not be the case. It's the one who wants to know you more that does. Fact? Not even close. But John can say that it's true for him.

He is now resting on a chair, top floor of a hotel he and Sherlock entered, in the room they ordered, thinking to himself while watching his partner do...whatever he seems to be doing. He did say that he wanted to talk to him, but Sherlock has yet to speak...It was a little ominous to be honest. Nothing seems to go smoothly whenever he is silent. But as a dreamer he hopes it is a good thing...

"How do you feel about death John?"

...okay, maybe not.

John gave an odd look his way. "Feel?"

Sherlock nodded, not even looking his direction. "Yes, do you believe you are prepared to die?"

John shrugged. "Haven't I always been? Our job isn't exactly the safest..."

"Exactly." Sherlock then stood up from his previous position in his chair. "Although that's true I can't help but feel relieved with that fact."

John raised an eyebrow. "What's going on with you?"

Sherlock continued, seemingly ignoring him. "Death is expected, yet you can't prepare for it no matter how much you try. You can only prevent the inevitable."

"Yes, but you could also enjoy the time spent living."

Sherlock nodded. "Mm. Course without that there really is no reason to live is there?"

John was standing at this point. "What are you getting at?"

"Nothing at the moment, just speculation."

John crossed his arms. "Kind of a weird thing to speculate.."

"No." Sherlock streched. "Think of it as a brain exercise.

"Because the world surely needs more of that."

"Quite."

John frowned, slightly worried. There was something Sherlock wasn't telling him, ad he doubted that the only reason he was called was for a speculation. "...What exactly did you need of me?"

Sherlock pondered that. "Well...judging by the look on your face you suppose I have kept something from you?"
"You and I both know the answer to that."

"Mm. Well, you would be correct, I am keeping something from you."

Knew it. "And what would that be?"

Sherlock's eyes flickered for only a moment, almost unreadable. "...How's Mary?"

John sighed. "You know i'm not comfortable with this subject."

"Which is exactly why I asked."

"What does it have to do with anything?"

"What does it not?"
"Well, I don't see it."

"Are you sure? You haven't spoken to her in weeks."

John scoffed. "And that's my fault?"

"Precisely."

John looked at him in disbelief. "How is it my fault?"

"You tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"There's always something to tell with you John."

"Well this time there isn't!"

"Hm...You never told me what happened."

"Probably because it's not worth mentioning."

Sherlock shifted. "It's always worth mentioning when it's about someone you love."

"She didn't love me, you know that."

"I wasn't talking about her."

John went silent.

"As you said, death is inevitable, but you must enjoy the time you have living. And unfornately for you that doesn't seem to be happening at the moment."

"It wasn't my fault."

"Of course it was."

"I didn't do anything!"

"Which is why it's your fault." Sherlock said matter-of-factly. "Whether or not you are with her is not my concern, but you not being happy is effecting your quality on the field."

John glared."I'm perfectly fine."

Sherlock rose an eyebrow. "Oh really? Just last week I saw you stumble into a pole and not even react to the shock."

"Sherlock, please..."

"Yesterday I saw you mistakenly try to eat a sponge."

"I already told you..."

Sherlock, slightly but surely, raised his voice. "I could accept it before but I surely can not now. Whatever the occurence was has greatly affected you in ways I do not like, and I can't have things such as lover's quireels hindering my partners work compatbilities. Now are you going to talk about it or not?"

John paused, thinking of his words carefully. "She didn't love me. That's all. I don't know why she left and at this point nor do I care. But talking about it isn't going to help anyone. I've shed my last tear about the situation anyway."

Sherlock sighed. "Love I don't and probably will never understand."

"Quite."

After a moment of silence, John spoke. "Donovan called."

"Oh?"

:"Not for any reason though, just to see if I was okay."

Sherlock glanced at John. "That certainitly is a rarity."

"Could hardly believe it myself."

"Hm."

John started to pace. "You know...we have being staying here a while and haven't done anything."

"No need. We just have to wait till eight."

"Lavender Theater in Syndey huh?"

"As long as we are here." Sherlock sat down to read a newsparper nearby. "I believe it shall be interesting."

John groaned. "Maybe, but I would rather get whatever business this is done before we do anything else.."

"Patience. We have all week to meet this person. May as well get a kick out of it hm?"

A well as a "kick" out of the current situation would be nice, it hardly explains what they were doing there.

A couple of days ago they were given a message by which the messager claimed had no address. The message was an invitation to meet a Grayson Banks at one of his estate any time of the week they were there. It suggested that they took a look at the sights beforehand, but consideing the veageness of needing to be here, John wanted to meet this man for an explanation as quickly as possible.

Course, Sherlock would too if it wasn't for being in Syndey.

John put on his coat. "Well whaever the case I believe that I shall take a walk.":

"You do that."

"What? Are you not coming with me?"

"Is there a reason I should?"

"No but-"
"Then of course not."

John paued for a moment before chuckling to himself and sheaking his head. Why always banter with the greatest mystery solver if it was always a losing battle?

John walked down to te lobby, heading out.

It wasn't an overly impressive hotel, or lobby for that matter, but it was better to be someone so cheap and didn't have rats roaming around.

Well, the animal anyway.

He was convienced that they have been ripped off by the room payment.

And the food? At least worth a third of what they sold it like here.

...Anyway.

It was a hotel.

john walked towards to door only to be stopped by a bellhop.

"Excuse me .."

John stopped in his tracks. "May I help you?"

The man shook his head. "Not exactly, but I believe you left something of yours at the desk."

"Oh?" John was pretty responsible, so this was a surprise. Course, if he had been acting like Sherlock said, it was possible it slipped his mind. "And what would that be?"

The man lifted up a box. It was a box square box wth a handle, and it had Sherlock's name on it, although he never saw it before. "This box has Mr. Holmes's name on it, so I presume this is yours."

"Sorry but I believe it is someone elses."

"But it has his name on it." The bellhop pointed at the nametag to make sure he was aware. "See?"

John nodded. "Yes, but he doesn't own nor did he ever own such a box. Perhaps you should check with the front desk about the matter. Now if you excuse me."

John walked past the bewildered man, who just shrugged and walked towards the desk for answers.

John had to admit, the freshness of Sydney really did entoxicate him. Just the feel and the breeze of the air was enough to make anyone fall asleep peacefully. Nothing like London, having the air poisoned with the deaths that occured there.

London has changed though. Before, all Sherlock and John's cases were just simple robberies or thievery. Sure that may be bad, but it wasn't murder, and it surely wasn't life-threathening. Before it was just figuring out who did it and confronting them, half the time they tried to run, not successful of course. But ever since the sudden rise of Moriarty, the crime the occured there spiked, making the situation alot more dangerous. Murder cases were more complex, finding bodies and gun fights. It's a wonder Sherlock is even alive, considering he refuses to keep a weapon on him. He can use one, no doubt about it, but it took John more then a few saves to protect him. Walking up to an armed man and telling him why and how he did a murder is never a good idea...course...Sherlock has a different mind set so it's difficult to tell whatever the heck is going on in there.'

IF anything is going on in there.

If this Greyson Banks Turns out to be anythere murder case Joh was not going to be a very happy camper. He wanted to consider this a vacation, Sherlock did, and toget anyway from the bad vibes of London for a little while was certainly a plus.

But, business is business.

John turned a corner thinking to himself, ignoring the sounds behind him.

"You can't expect me to do that Gus."

"I'm not expecting you to do anything Shawn! I'm telling you!"

Maybe a trip through the walkway of the river...

"Come on, it was just one bill."

"A ONE HUNDRED DOLLAR bill Shawn."

Is there an amusement park around here somewhere?...nah

"It's still one bill, and besides you aren't going to need it."

"I was planning to save up for a new laptop!"

"Come on Gus, don't be ridiculous, you should know better then anyone that I can build a computer."

"You took one class!"

"That's all I need, just need to frame and the screen and you're all set."

A resturant would be nice...course without a lady there really is no point...

"Do you even know what a CPU is Shawn?"

"Gus, what did I tell you about making up words?"

"Oh my god."

Pancakes?...Yeah...those would be good.

"It wouldn't matter, because once we find this Banks guy we'll be all set!"

John stopped in his tracks.

"If we had a car we would have found him already!"

"Well, excuse me for thinking you neededn Synadian dollars to pay for cars.."

"You didn't bring anything!"

"Pfft, man whatever. You need the exercise anyway. Getting a little plump there..."

"It's muscle Shawn. MUSCLE."

John turned around to the voices behind him, making those two stop as well.

One was a white male, couldn't be more then 25, with a funny demeanor that made him look almost like an actor of some sort. He was shorter then him, course many were, and was wearing a plaid button down with jeans and white sneakers. Surely not a native...

And his companion seemed to be a black male, around the same age as the other, with a wimpy demeanor but a loyal one. He had short hair, almost non-existant, and had his white long sleeved button down tucked in. Yep, definitely not a native...

"Excuse me, you wouldn't happen to mean Greyson Banks would you?"

The two shared a look and the white male turned to him. "Uh...yeah."

"Do you know him?" The other asked.

John shook his head. "No, my partner and I have also been searching for him as well." John held out his hand. "John Watson."

The other man shook his hand. "Hello, my name is Shawn Spencer, this is my partner, Quincy Adams."

The other man frowned at him. "Shawn, we're in a foriegn country and you STILL use allianceses?" The man turned towards John. "Burton Guster."

John nodded. He was already amused with these too. "Quite. So you gentlemen are foriegn?"

Shawn chuckled as Gus fist pumped him. "USA represent!"

john blinked. "Indeed."

"So what about you?" Gus asked. "It doesn't seem like you're from here either."

John nodded. "Yes, my partner and I originate from London. You've been?"

The shook there heads. "No," Shawn confirmed. "Unless you count are journey to the big ben in Vegas."

"That wasn't the big ben, it was the Effiel Tower Shawn."

"Really? Then why was it so small?"

"It was a replica!"

"Man...is anything there authentic?"

John looked between the two of them. What an odd pair... "I hate to interrupt but...what are you gentlemen?"

Shawn beamed. "Oh, well we are Pyschic Detectives for the states."

John raised an eyebrow. "Pyschic detectives?"

Gus pointed to Shawn. "He's the pyschic. I'm a pharmecutical salesmen."

John paused for a moment. Not only were these two men who look like normal guys detectives, but this sure was the first time he ever heard of a pyschic detective. "Really? My partner and I are detectives as well...of course not one from the psychic demeanor..."

Shawn grinned. "Well John, Johnny...Johnathan."

"Shawn.."

Shawn put two fingers to his head, mysterious. "It's a gift...hardly a curse..."

"Mostly a curse."

"BUT, a gift nevertheless."

John narrowed his eyes. He wasn't much of a supernatural believer himself, far from it was only natural for him to be skeptical. "Really? Could you tell my future perhaps?"
Shawn shook his head. "No no no, the psychic world doesn't swing that way."

"Neither do we."

"And besides, there's too many variables to change your future."

"We changed just by talking to you."

John couldn't disagree with that...

"But what we CAN tell you...is to enjoy the Lavender Theater tonight."

John looked at them confused. "How did you-?"

Shawn made the same gesture at his head. He didn't explan anything, as he thought that would be enough.

And enough it was, John was honestly impressed. "Well, what an interesting person you are..."

Shawn shrugged and grin. "If by interesting you mean AWESOME...then yes."

john nodded. Maybe there was more to this pyschic afterall...

BOOM!

John jumped back and Shawn and Gus flailed as a loud explosion could be heard in the distance. John frowned worriedly as he noticed it came from the direction of the hotel.

Gus(after regaining his composher), yelled worriedly. "What was that?"

John pushed past them and ran towards the hotel. Avoiding his worst fears.

Shawn looked back (after tripping and falling on the ground), and glanced at Gus. Unspoken words told them to follow him.

John was now panicking. Once he reached the hotel he found the lobby completely charred, dead bodies laying on the floor, no fire, building intact, but people screaming and crying as police sirens could be heard. So John did the only rational thing he could think of.

He ran inside.

Although it wasn't on fire, it was far from safe. Whatever caused the explosion was big...VERY big. Lucky enough it was contained in the building, but the casualities was now seeming to be double digits.

John ran up the stairs to the room they have been staying in, people coming down the halls to wonder what was going on. Usually he would tend to them, but he really was worrying about something,

REALLY worrying.

He bursted into the room...

...Only to see Sherlock sit there drinking what seemed to be tea.

"John." Sherlock set his tea beside him. "You really should know barging in is never good."

John breathed heavily, mostly confused. "W-What are you doing here? Did you hear what was going on?"

Sherlock picked up a book and began going through it. "If you mean the explosion, which you are, then yes."

John paused, waiting for an explanation, not recieving one. "...If so then what are you still DOING here?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Why aren't down there figuring out what happened? We could be in danger!"

Sherlock rubbed his forehead. "The only thing I'm in danger of is a headache."

"Sherlock..."

"John.." Sherlock sighed patiently. "You know as well as I do that we have no business here. In fact for the moment we aren't even detectives. We are just innocent bystanders. Let the police do there job."

John frowned. Although maybe it's true, Sherlock knew better then anyone that the police would have to go through legalties and that itself would be enough time for the person to leave the country. "Aren't you a little bit carious?"

"Of course I am. Just not going to do anything." Sherlock checked his watch. "The police should be arriving any second so we should probably head to the threater before they bring us in for questioning." Sherlock got his coat and headed for the door.

John stared for a moment, then started to follow. "What is with you?"

Sherlock paused.

"First Mary, then death, then this. It's like you hav a different state of mind today.."

Sherlock turned around and stared. "...Perhaps nt in the way I prefer to admit but you would be correct."

"What is the problem?"
Sherlock thought for a moment. "Let's say...hypothetically speaking, that my mind has reach it's limit for life sustanience."

"...Explain."

"You loved Mary."

...

"That much is certain. It was something that changed you and your way of thinking towards the world. Perhaps some not for the better but for the most part it was.I myself have experienced that, and all that brought me was nothing but the suffering of my own pity. And now it seems as though you've reached that point as well."

"Not to that intensity..."

"Each case we've ever done has been more or less, dangerous. I don't nor will I ever care about the danger, but really why should I? I'm not afraid to die. I always ask myself,what is the point of life itself? To enjoy it is the simpliest of answers but really I feel like there is more to that and I intended to find out."
Sherlock walked out the door, John sighing to himself.

Something was going on with him...

John and Sherlock walked out the door, and as Sherlock expected, the place was packed with policemen and forensic teams. Although not as expected, there were two men who were checking out the place as well.

John looked over the room again, carious as to what caused the bomb. He and Sherlock stopped when Shawn walked out.

"This is, uh, quite the explosion here."

John nodded. "It is."

Gus looked back. "do you know what caused it?"

John shook his head. "No but I believe we will find out soon enough." John looked over at Sherlock. "This is my partner, Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock eyed them cariously then nodded. "A pleasure."

"Shawn Spencer, Pyschic Detective." Shawn gestured to his head.

"Burton Guster, regular Detective." Gus also gestured to his head but in a fist manner.

"Sherlock Holmes, Private Detective." Sherlock eyed Shawn. "You know, most of the Pyschic I know are usually more...flamboyant."

Shawn snickered. "Well most of the time we are."

Gus nodded. "Costumes..."

"Jumpsuits..."

"Banana pants.."

"Even a few gorilla suits here and there."

"But all awesome."

"You know thats right."

Sherlock and John shared a look, one with both confusion and slight amusement with these two. Sherlock spoke. "Well...to answer your previous question, I'm not aware of what exactly went on here."

John gestured towards Shawn. "Perhaps you could have a...uh...Pyschic reading about the occurence?"

Shawn looked around for and moment, holding his head with his "signiture" gesture. "I'm getting something..."

Sherlock looked cariously. "What would that be?"

"It's uh...boxing? No...that's not it...Gus boxing?"

"Me boxing?"

"no no, Gus's arms are too shallow for that."

Gus frowed.

"Black man...Black box! It was a black box that caused the expolsion!"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "And how exactly do you know that?"

"The Pyschic world aided me."

Sherlock was silent for a moment. John on the other hand was realizing something...

If Shawn Spencer was correct, and the explosion WAS caused by a black box, it couldn't be the same black box that he was almost given could it?

John frowned. "This box...are you one-hundred percent certain it was black?"

"As sure as Gus's candy addiction."

"It's not an addiction Shawn."

John turned to Sherlock. "May I talked to you in private?" John lead Sherlock outside, with the others staying behind.

"Sherlock." John started whispering. "This very well could have been an attempt on your life!"

Sherlock rose an eyebrow. "How are you sure?"

"That black box may have had your name on it. When I was going for a walk a bellhop said it was your box, but I never saw it before so I disregarded it."

"Which means that if it would have gotten to me, the results would be much more troublesome.."

"But how would you have an enemy in Sydney?"

Sherlock looked around, observing the area around him. "I don't believe that this is necessarily an enemy of mine. Perhaps this Greyson Banks has more to tell us then we originaly thought."

"Which means?"

Sherlock sighed. "I suppose we could...postpone our relaxation until we figure out the situation."

"Your relaxation." John corrected.

"Techncalities."

John rolled his eyes. "Hm."

Sherlock looked over at the pair of men who were for some reasn dancing..."...Do you know them?"

John looked around. "Barely, I met them on my walk. Seems as though they are also looking for Mr. Banks."

"Really?" Sherlock looked in disbelief. "Now what would someone want with two teams of detectives?"

"Maybe more." John stated. "Think about it. A bombing aimed for you, plus two more detectives(no matter how odd they seem) show up as well. Although detectives showing up to a crime scene isn't rare, two groups of them from out of country looking for the same person?"

"I see your point." Sherlock nodded. "Although we obviously can't stay here, perhaps we should ask those two if they koow of another hotel."

john nodded. He walked over to the two who were currently hitting each other. "Excuse me gentlemen?"

They ceased and glared at each other. Shaw turned to him. "What can I do for you Jonathan."

"It's..John..." John shook his head. "Anyway we were wondering if you happen to know of another hotel to stay in, preferable the one you are in?"

Gus glared at Shawn before speaking. "Well, John, we would have a hotel for you to stay in if someone didn't decide to spend a surplus of money."

"ONE bill Gus!"

"Well," John started. "Since we obviously can't stay here you gentlemen are more then welcome to join us as we head to 's estate."

Gus nodded. "Gladly."

"But Gus..."

"Let's go Shawn." Gus walked off(headed who-knows-where).

John chuckled. "Stubborn partner you got there."

"You don't know the half of it."

"Oh believe me.." John eyed Sherlock who was in his own world. "I do."

The group decided to take John's rented car (because Sherlock refuses to drive this "late") and after a few misdirections(due to Shawn's skills), they finally reached the estate.

...Or whatever this place was.

It was a small, white manor, circler driway, fountain in the middle, garden on the left side with a square pool on the right. Just a very simple, very clean estate.

To say it was impressive would be an exagerration...

But to say it wasn't would be an understatement.

"It's getting dark." Sherlock pointed out.

Gus nodded. "Maybe we should come back tomorrow.."

"What come on," Shawn argued. "It's not that dark, it's only seven thirty. He's probably still awake." Shawn got out of the car and walked up to the gate, everyone following him.

"Probably not." Gus countered. "This could be considered tresspassing Shawn."

"It's not like we're on the dude's lawn." Shaw said. "Besides, he said we could come anytime we like."

John nodded. "That is true.."

Sherlock shook his head. "Politeness only goes so far ."

"Yeah, do you want to go through that whole guard dog episode again?"

"Oh please Gus, he's expecting us." Shawn pointed out. "Why would he have guard dogs out?"

"Another point correct." John stated.

"Thanks Johnny."

"it's...John."

Sherlock looked at the gate. It was a standard black gate with a doorbell on the side. "Hmm..." Sherlock rang the doorbell only to find th sound to be a gong.

Gus flinched back. "..That's some doorbell."

"Probably woke the entire city."

The estate's white doors opened slowly to show the shining light coming from inside. The group watched as the gates slowly opened and waited for someone to come out of the estate, only to find noone there.

Gus walked froward. "Should we, uh, go inside?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I don't see why not." Sherlock walked forward as everyone else hesistantly followed.

The inside was much more unique then the outside, this s for one, it was mostly empty. There were no doors but the one to enter, and there was a giant lightbulb the hung at the top of a cicller roof. There was a square black box in the middle of the room, labeled, "Welcome".

Shawn looked around cariously. "Well I can see the interior decorater of the place has been hard at work..."

"Tell me about, this place is desertd." Gus looked at the box. "Well except that." Gus walked over.

John stared at the box in horror. "Stay way from that!"

Gus stopped in his tracks. "Why?"

John ran over to the box and slowly picked it up. "It might be a bomb."

Sherlock eyed it. "You think it's the same type of box?"

John didn't respond, only stood there, thinking of his next action.

Gus shivered. "Well if thats bomb, we need to get out of here..."

"Wait...this doesn't make any sense." Shawn walked over to it. "If that was a bomb, what would it be doing here? And in an empty room?"

"More importanly..." Sherlock looked around. "What is this room doing here? It doesn't match the design of the estate at all..."

"You don't think..." Gus started. "Someone tried to lead us here then open the bbox just to lead us into a trap do you?"

"Gus don't be the Snap and crackle without the pop okay? This obviously is a mission briefing."

"Mission briefing?" Sherlcok questioned.

"Yeah, which is why it has "Welcome" on it."

"Strange way to say welcome." John said skeptically.

"Well, what options do we have Johanna?" Shawn asked.

"It's John, and who could just put the box down, walked away, and forget this Greyson Banks bisness ever happened."

"But then we would be neglating our positions as detectives by ignoring the possible plee for help." Sherlock argued.

"Exactly!" Shawn grabbed the box from John. "And what do detectives do? They investagate!"

Gus gulped. "You know...cariousity killed the cat."

"And possibly will kill us." John added, also worried.

"If we open this box it could be a bomb Shawn!"

"And if we don't Gus." Shawn unhooked the latch. "We'll never know."

The group waited patiently for Shawn to open the box. Complete silence in the room as Shawn grabbed the top of the box and slowly attempted to lift it...

3...

2...

1...

"What are you doing in here?"

The group turned to an old man standing at the front doorway angrily. "I had this place cleaned up only an hour ago and now look! Shoe marks on the floor!"

Sherlock looked down, indeed, shawn's sneaker prints were on the floor.

The old man walked out to Shawn and snatched the box from him. "And what are you doing with this?"

john reached out to him. "uh, sir! There might be a bomb in there that-"

"A bomb?" the old man laughed. "What are you loopy boy? This here is my lunch!" The old man opened the boc to find a banana and yogurt sandwich (?) placed inside.

Gus leaned over to shawn and whispered. "uh...whoo eats lunch eight at night?"

"Who enter banana and yogurt sandwiches?"

The old man took a bite. "Mmmm...nothig better in Syndey then this right here." The old man placed the sandwich back and lookd out them.

The group was silent.

"Now then." The old man casual pulled a shotgun from his back. "You folks ming telling me what you are doing on my property?"

Everyone but Sherlock flinched back, Sherlock stepping forward. "Are you Greyson Banks by any chance?"

The old man paused. "Yeah...what of it?"

"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock introduced himself in hopes it would spark something.

Lucky for him it did, making the old man lower his gun. "Oh! You four must be the late ones."

Shawn titled his head. "The late ones?"

"Follow me." Greyson walked outside. The group shared a look the reluntently followed.

The old man lead the group to a large bush, then stuck his arms inside. "I hope you are prepared."

"Whatever for?" John asked.

The old man twisted his arms. A large sound could be heard as the bush parted in two, revealing an elevator. the old man bowed to them. "After you."

Gus leaned to Shawn. "Spy time?"

"You know that's right"

Fistbump.

The group walked inside. The light blue colors of the elevator giving a futuristic feel. The descent was quick, opening them to a large dark room filled with people and computers running around.

Shawn whistled. Gus looked in awe. It almost seemed like Sherlock was surprised himself and John audibly said. "Wow."

The old man pointed to the center filled with people. "Head there." The old man entered back into the elevator as the group walked down to the center.

The room was dark although the light the computer gave off was enough to keep it illuminated. There were three large monitors the size of buses in the front. The people in the front were standing there conversating. They were in groups of two.

"Well..." John looked at Sherlock. "This is certainly bigger then we originally thought."

"This is the first time that I have to say that statement." Sherlock grinned. "Is an understatement."

A loud voice could be heard.

You all are the greatest minds the world has to offer.

But in order for us to use you fully it will take an understanding of each of your abilities.

So...

Let us begin.

A/N: Hello boys and girls! COMPLETELY new to this whole Sherlock thing but please give opinions and stick around! I promise it'll be awesome! I will do review responses so please review. Every review helps. I'm really begging here. The more reviews the more updates. Just saying.

Bow-wow for now.