Sherlock Holmes had obtained a car. He didn't mention where he'd gotten it, and John knew better than to question things like this. With Mycroft for a brother, it was perfectly plausible that the car was the queen's, because she owed a favor.
It was dark blue in color, spacious, and smelled vaguely of waffles and pine. Sherlock had permitted John to drive so he could better engross himself in... something in the backseat.
"So, where is it that we're going, again?" John dared to ask as fields whisked by out the windows.
"Unless you have a problem with my directions...?" Sherlock warned, flicking through something on his phone.
The doctor sighed. "I just want to know where we're going."
Irately, the detective flung one of the papers onto a nearby seat and dug through the pile on his lap. He no longer appeared to be listening.
John reexamined his directions. Yep, definitely going the right way. Civilization thinned out and the landscape turned dreary. John wasn't even quite sure whether they were still in England. It was nowhere he'd ever been before. The land was flag, dry and hot. Outside, the wind stirred up dust.
Soon after a right turn onto another dirt road, John noticed a large, nearly empty bus on the road ahead.
"Well, follow it." The former army doctor startled at the sudden demand from the backseat. "We're going to the same place." And then, muttering: "Bus of older make - sometime in the nineteen hundreds, been on the road some thirty years plus, bit hard to tell under all the grime. Not used very much, perhaps once every two weeks and only ever on this route. Bus driver's been on this job nearly as long as the bus itself... Comes from around here. Few passengers, most of whom know each other. Dislike of outsiders..."
"And you got all that from the filthy back of a bus..." John shook his head. However long he had known Sherlock Holmes, it was still impressive.
"Obviously. You see, the ruts in the dirt perfectly match the -"
John cut him off. "You don't need to prove it to me." Or do any more showing off.
The bus ahead stopped and opened its doors. No one got out. After a few moments, it trundled off again.
"Towards the town, now. Do you see it, there on the horizon?"
"The bus..." John paused to order his thoughts. "The bus stopped here to allow people off. Doesn't that mean we shere'd get out and walk now?"
"Of course, John. Of course we should. But I plan on making an entrance."
