"John!"

"I'm right here, you don't have to yell," John said, turning the page. The newspaper was very engrossing today.

"I found a thing," Sherlock said firmly, sounding incredibly proud of himself.

John nodded. "Yes, people do that occasionally."

"It's called… Starfleet." Sherlock nearly whispered the word, waiting for dramatic effect.

"What the bloody hell is-" John looked up at Sherlock and froze. "Your outfit…"

"Yes. Glorious, isn't it?" Sherlock swept the long black cape around as he spun, letting John see the full extent of it. "And a lovely gun, too." He hefted the metre-long weapon for his flatmate to view.

"That's… a real gun, Sherlock," John said, hesitating to touch the long metal object.

"I know. I killed quite a lot of Klingons with it," Sherlock answered, looking more proud than ever.

"Sorry- Klingons?" John rubbed his forehead. "Where were you?"

"Let me explain." Sherlock sat in his chair, arranging the cape carefully about him. "I was bored. So, I thought, why not get a new coat? And I went out but everything in the shops was dull. Luckily, I knew just the thing to get a good coat. So I went down to the sewers."

"The sewers? Christ, Sherlock," John said. "Sorry; continue."

"And I fetched my brother's time machine." Sherlock was beginning to grin. "And I went to the future."

John was speechless.

"While there, I found my new arch-nemesis. Starfleet." Sherlock said the word with so much disgust that it shocked John. "It's a horrible organization determined to keep a beautiful race of people like us frozen for eternity."

John's eyes widened.

"I had to stop them, I just had to. So, John, along with getting a new coat, I also gained special powers, had my blood taken, and became a supervillain."

"Supervillain?"

"Well, I couldn't save them without killing loads of useless idiots along the way!"

John shook his head. "Sherlock. When did you get back?"

"Well, I figured that when they trapped me in a small cylindrical compartment and began to carbon-freeze me, it was time to go. So I used the time machine-" Sherlock held up his wrist, which was bearing a small metal bracelet with dials and buttons. "- And got back as soon as possible."

John held up his hands. "Right. And, sorry, but could you please repeat the whole thing again?

"No, not really."

"Alright, then."