Chapter I

Sherlock Holmes did not mean to transport John Watson and himself to an alternate reality. It was an accident, really, and he isn't so sure how it happened. It was the drawback of being a genius, or in much, much plainer words, Sherlock Holmes. There are just some bits of information he deems useless that he deletes from his mind, and apparently, the method for travel between realities is one of them.

The first thing he felt was the sharp gust of wind. Sherlock could remember that he was in the kitchen experimenting...things. This was unusual for Sherlock. His keen sense of intellect and photographic memory would usually allow him to remember.

And in that moment, there he was, he and John standing in their living room. He looks at John. He appeared perfectly astounded. Sherlock recalls that he was supposed to be getting Chinese takeout for both of them. He looks at John's hands. His hands are empty.

Somehow, someway they were teleported to the living room.

"and that's a wrap," said an unfamilliar voice. Sherlock jumped a little. The voice came from behind. It was an unfamilliar woman, a short-haired ginger. "nice work Ben and Martin"

Sherlock was confused. Certainly, the woman was referring to him and John; but for some peculiar reason, they were adressed as "Ben and Martin."

"I'm sorry, my name is John, John Watson" John said "and who the hell is Ben and Martin?!"

John was as baffled as he is. His tone of confoundment suggests so. He deduces at the woman. English. Resided in the US. Married. Knowledgable in technology. Has a background in Mathematics. A director.

"Very funny" she adds, "John"

Sherlock notes that she dually flexed the index and middle finger of her hands signalling that she meant "John" in a nonliteral sense.

Sherlock observes the flat. Everything was in its usual place. His skull situated as a mantlepiece. His chair. John's chair. Bulletholes on the wall. Everything was in place, nothing out of the ordinary.

Except the fact that the room was packed, full of...humans. Sherlock never really liked humans, with John as an exception, and maybe a select few. Lights were all over the place, and so are cameras. It seems fairly palpable that they were in a shooting for a movie, no a tv series.

"Excuse me miss but—"

Sherlock cut john off. "We will be off, Rachel ," he flashes a smile.

"Rachel?"

"Her ID"

"But Sher—"

"Isn't it obvious, John?" Sherlock remarks, "I, in some way, transported us to an alternate reality in which our lives serve as leisurely entertainment"

"What?

"We were shooting for a TV series, Martin." Sherlock adds, "and we're the stars"

Author's note:

cue in theme song*