John spat out his mouthful of blistering hot tea "WHAT?!" he wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand "Sherlock, what do you mean by 'big'?" he now sounded interested.

"Mycroft has eyes on me everywhere" he began with a glint in his eyes "So, I thought we'd play a 'friendly' game with him." Sherlock then spent the next twenty minutes explaining the devised plan to John (who nodded in silence).

"So, what you're telling me is you're going to infiltrate your brothe- Mycroft's eyes and ears and plant something in his office?-" Sherlock interrupted.

"Bureau, John, Bureau" he corrected him "And basically."

"Where and When do we start?" John asked patiently.

Sherlock hesitated for a second, got to his feet and walked to the coat stand; swung his coat on "As if you don't know." He gave him that unmistakable look that had 'stupid question' written all over it.

He folded the length of his scarf, wrapped it uniformly around his neck and pulled the door open simply.

John rolled his eyes "As if I didn't know" he let out a slight groan as Sherlock left and he jogged in pursuit. "Now, are you sure?" John enquired.

"John, are you sure?" Sherlock retorted turning to face him at the front door of 221B Baker Street.

"I'm sure your head isn't screwed on right" John insisted following Sherlock who strode off; John was practically running to catch up with him.

They came to an abrupt halt at the top of Baker Street as Sherlock stuck one arm out in front of John (winding him) as a blur of a car sped past. "I don't think yours is either" laughed Sherlock, putting an arm on John's shoulder.

"Thanks" John smiled at Sherlock for a moment, holding his eyes "Oh-" he tore his gaze away "Taxi".

Sherlock shook himself out of his little trance, turned around and waved at the cab. Stopping not far from them, they got in the back "Piccadilly" Sherlock said bluntly.

"Why? Of all places?" John frowned at Sherlock who turned to face him as if he'd expected the question.

"Think, John, think! Mycroft has people everywhere, like ants, but we're going to be the boiling water. We go everywhere around them; when they all report back to Mycroft where we are, they'll all be-"

"-Confused?" John interrupted.

"Exactly, so they won't expect us to run right into the centre of them, we get to the centre, their brain-"

"-Mycroft." John smiled to himself, getting the hang of it.

Sherlock nodded, slightly provoked "They have nowhere to go" he smiled cruelly, "they're trapped."

The cab stopped and Sherlock left, leaving John to pay. John retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and handed the driver a few notes, "Hope that covers it- sorry." He ran off after Sherlock.

"Your change" the cabby yelled after him.

"Keep it!" John replied only just able to hear the taxi pull away; now in the distance "Sherlock!" John panted, completely out of breath.

Sherlock was distracted by the traffic; he looked down at the curb and then up at John. "John, what have you been doing" he winked in reference to him being out of breath, John shook his head appalled by the attempt and then they continued pacing down the many different streets and routes in Piccadilly.