"Look, John. Everything the light touches is plagued by crime, and evil."

Sherlock swept his arm out dramatically as they stood on the step outside their apartment and stared out at the early morning commencement of London life. The sun was just emerging from between the tightly knit buildings, casting a golden-pinkish glow over the doorsteps and unfamiliar faces.

John nodded solemnly, wondering vaguely if he was supposed to be impressed by this grand declaration.

"…Wow," he replied, glancing at Sherlock curiously from the corner of his eye.

Sherlock, apparently, wasn't quite finished with his speech yet.

"And it is our duty, John, to protect London from the worst kinds of felony and darkness."

John raised his eyebrows.

"I thought you only took the really interesting cases as a way to pass the time."

"Oh, there's more to being London's only consulting detective than getting your way all the time," Sherlock replied dismissively with a wave of his hand.

John pulled a face of mock astonishment.

"There's more?"

Sherlock ignored him, turning back to observe the traffic and pedestrians that inhabited Baker Street.

"Everything you see here exists together, in a delicate balance. And as a detective, one must understand that balance, and respect every kind of creature – from the Scotland Yard officer, to the common criminal, to the solitary homeless individual."

This statement most definitely perplexed John, who had been doing his best to take the words of the detective seriously.

"But, Sherlock…don't we mock the officer, arrest the criminal, and take advantage of the homeless by getting them to spy for us?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, twitching his scarf more tightly around his neck in exasperation.

"Yes, obviously, John, but let me explain – "

Sherlock's explanation was interrupted by a sudden smattering of gunshots and the wail of a police siren from the next block over. These noises sounded so out of place in the beauty of the early morning. Heads of pedestrians turned in curiosity and alarm while solitary pigeons took flight in an attempt to escape the danger of the commotion.

With a grand shout of laughter, Sherlock was leaping off their front step and running down the sidewalk, hastily dodging passersby and scattering the lingering birds in his path. John trailed obediently behind the detective, a grin emerging on his face, towards the inevitable and alluring call of danger and adventure, despite the fact that he was never to hear the rest of the truth behind the great circle of London city life.