Sequel to 'The Prank'. People asked about Mycroft, so here he is (well, not yet, but give me time, and a crayon). You don't have to read 'The Prank', but it's probably best if you do. Might need some help on how to continue, so please leave me some suggestions in your review, or just review me anyway, criticism welcome! I know the characters are a bit weird, but I blame it on the drug, so there!
Disclaimer: If I owned Sherlock, then he and John would be doing this all the time on screen. But I don't, so you'll have to settle for this.
Tally-Ho, and please review.
Sherlock stood in the closet in the dining room in Mycroft's private house. Everything was ready, and now they just had to wait for his brother to come back. John was under the colossal oak table in the middle of the room, which had a tablecloth over it. His brother, no matter how brainy, would never check under the table. All the traps were ready, and everything was hidden. He heard a car pull in to the driveway outside.
3 hours earlier.
Sherlock and John were creeping along the outside of Mycroft's 'house' (it was more of a mansion than a house, but Mycroft insisted on calling it so), being careful not to kick up any gravel or step on any twigs, keeping away from any CCTV cameras, and laughing loudly. John thought it was very much like being a spy, and was holding his hands in a gun shape, and pointing it round corners. Sherlock was pretending to be a shadow, and was having extreme fun walking through bushes quietly and rolling on the ground. They both thought that the tea at the café they had stopped at before coming here tasted odd, and they both presumed that they had been drugged, one way or another, which they had. But it didn't stop them.
John saw the door they were looking for, the door that they would go through to get to the dining room. It was some 80 meters away, but they would have to go around. The had been sticking to the walls mostly, so far, apart from Sherlock, who had been walking through bushes and hedges despite the fact he could just go around them, but now they would have to walk along the tree line and then return to the wall.
John grabbed Sherlock, the most out-of-it of the pair, and pulled him down so that they were sitting against the wall, just out of reach of the cameras. He put a finger up to his lips, giving Sherlock the 'be quite' sign. Sherlock giggled silently, and copied the sign. John then stuck his head around the corner, and quickly ducked behind again. He pointed towards the corner, and did some sort of sign with his hands, with one in a fist, and the other one going round in circles. Sherlock frowned; he had no idea what John was trying to say. John tried again, adding more signals this time, putting his hands on either side of his head, and then moving his head side to side. Sherlock stifled another giggle, John looked ridiculous. John re-did the signs, and Sherlock tried to copy them. John frowned, Sherlock wasn't supposed to copy him; he was supposed to understand the information and then come up with a plan. John gave up, and whispered in Sherlock's ear.
"What are you doing?"
"Copying you, obviously."
"You're not supposed to copy me."
"Am I not?" Sherlock frowned.
"Well what am I supposed to do then?"
"Make a plan."
"A plan? A plan about what?"
"About what I just hand signalled to you!"
"What did you just hand signal me?"
John face palmed, Sherlock hadn't understood a thing about what he was trying to say.
"Have you never played charades?"
"No, what's charades?"
John face palmed again, this would be more difficult than he thought it would be.
"Ok, never mind. There's a CCTV camera behind this corner, and it sees from this corner to that corner over there" he pointed at a corner just before the door to the dining room. "How do we get from here, to there?" he asked, pointing again at the door "Without getting seen by the camera?"