"Very well, very well… Hum… Where should I start? This is really hard. I could use some help."
"Not happening."
"Yeah, I sort of… expected that. But, who are you again?"
"Ok team, take five!"
The camera operator placed the camera on the floor and walked to the kitchen, as many other members of his team. They made some tea and they sat on the chairs scattered around the division. As the director explained, once again, to John what was happening in 221B, Sherlock got off his room, took one of the mugs with tea that was on the kitchen table and flopped on the couch. Everybody stopped and stared at him.
"Sherlock… What are you doing?"
"Do you know John, we are living together for almost 3 years, and you still don't recognize when I'm sulking? Shame on you."
"You know what I mean! There are people in here and, seriously, just look at yourself! Your only wearing a blanket!"
"You're."
"What?"
"It's not 'your'. It is 'you're'. Basic English, John. Basic English. Fetch me my phone."
"It's right next to you, Sherlock. Just get it yourself."
"Not feeling like it. Give it to me now."
John got up from his chair and picked the phone. After giving the mobile to Sherlock, he raised an eyebrow as he saw the number which Sherlock was typing.
"You are calling Mycroft. Your brother. Mycroft Holmes, the utter dickhead of this world besides you. Why would you that?"
"Rhetorical question, what do you think of fratricide?"
"Hum… Not ni-"
"RHETORICAL QUESTION!"
"Ok, ok, calm down!"
John turned around and saw that the whole TV team has already left the house. Asking himself when they left, he went taking a shower. He all of his clothes and got in the shower. He left the warm water run through his body and he began to wash his hair. As he did it, he heard huge shouts from the other room and many words that he didn't consider proper for the beginning of the day. He closed the water, combed his hair, and got ready to work. That day was going to be a big day…
"Mrs. Hudson, I'm home!"
When John didn't receive a response, he got worried. Mrs. Hudson always appeared at the door saying 'hello, dear' to her boys. John checked if had his gun. Nope. 'Bloody Sherlock and his bloody walls' he thought. He started to go upstairs and heard a laugh. Wondering what the hell was going on, John opened the door to the flat and saw Mrs. Hudson giggling at the cameras which were on the flat earlier that morning.
"Oh! Hello, John dear, take a sit." Mrs. Hudson said happily as she saw one of her boys standing at the door. "I was chatting with this gentleman here. I believe you've met him already. His name is Steven Moffat, and he's thinking of making a TV show about your daily routine with Sherlock. Wouldn't it be so much funny?"
A huff was heard from the other side of the living room. Sherlock, with his violin under his chin, started to play a melody. This one was not so carefully played by his composer. 'Bad mood, hein Sherlock?'
"Tell me, are you interested in making a TV show where people can really understand what's like in your lives? I know that tabloids are not funny at all, nor realistic, so I would like to know if you allowed my team to film you during a short period of time, 24 hours per day (there are, of course, privacy moments whenever any of you wants to) and… What was I going to say?
"Whoa, whoa! A little slower, perhaps… If I got it right, which I believe I did… You mean that Sherlock and I and whoever is with us, will soon begin to be followed everywhere, by cameras, in order to make people know what the truth is besides what is written on the newspapers?"
Ignoring Sherlock's comment of how even Anderson would understand what Moffat said, John heard the entire explanation, the agenda, the privacy terms and started to get really excited with the show.
"…now you just have to tell all your acquaintances what's going to happen in the next few days and we're ready to start!" Moffat exclaimed while his team packed everything to leave.
"Hold on a moment! You said we are going to start filming tomorrow! How are we supposed to tell everyone about the project in less than five hours?!"
"I trust you John."
"Oh, he really does…"
"Just look who finally talked to someone!"
"I was focused in other staff."
"Bet you were! 'Cause you left me here, dealing with all of this…-"
"Ignore it. They're having a little domestic. It happens all the time. Well, have a nice evening!" Mrs. Hudson said as she followed her guests to outside and closed the door and locked it, listening to an exclamation outside.
"Wait, you said it happens all the time?!"