A/N And so they finally meet! I feel, I should explain something- you will notice that this chapter is 'Sherlock-sided' and this is because with 7 characters (well, 8 if you include Eddie) meeting each other, trying to give everyone equal space was not working. Therefore, this chapter is Sherlock and John heavy but the next one, I promise, will be 'Hustle-sided' and you will get to see just what Mickey's team think about the situation .

Also, I apologise that I tend to write mainly from John's point-of-view in the Sherlock bits but I'm almost afraid to think what goes on in our favourite detectives head, let alone try and write about it. There's enough madness in my own head, thanks.

Anyway, enough rambling. Hope you enjoy.

Without a case from Lestrade, John once again had to watch as Sherlock turned their kitchen at 221b into a laboratory. It was the first step towards boredom. After a case, Sherlock would almost become normal for a few days; he would eat, for one, and eventually he would sleep. However after those first few days, the experiments would begin and that's when John almost felt like going down to Scotland Yard and begging for them to give his friend a case. It wasn't that the experiments were dangerous and disruptive (although they often were), it was more that they indicated Sherlock was on the brink of unravelling; firing shots at a wall was never a good thing.

It was for this reason that John was relieved to be back in Eddie's Bar with Sherlock. Meeting the con-artists provided the detective with a much needed distraction and gave John peace of mind that at least, for now, the flat was safe.

This meeting also gave John reason to smile, after all there was no way this would be happening if it had been anyone but Mrs. Hudson who had been conned. Unless it was John himself. Or may be Lestrade. Sherlock had professed the 'case' to be 'dull', which is why he wasn't investigating it himself, but he was helping; passing it on to those equipped to handle the matter better than the police. John knew, even if Sherlock wouldn't admit it, that this was a sign Sherlock liked Mrs Hudson. John already suspected this of course but it was still reassuring to see his self-confessed sociopathic friend show, in his own way, that he was capable of caring.

'Can I...ah.' Eddie stopped talking as soon as he raised his head and saw who was at the bar.

'Er... a beer, please, and he'll have a lemonade. No wait, he'll have an orange juice.' John requested trying to ignore the rather unwelcoming glare the barman was shooting at him and Sherlock.

'Why not a lemonade?' Sherlock asked, sounding genuinely curious.

'Because I don't like the thought of you drinking alcohol and because...you remember what happened last time I got you something fizzy?' John watched as Sherlock's face registered confusion. 'Of course, what am I saying? Of course you won't remember. You've probably deleted it.'

Sherlock smirked. 'Probably.'

The drinks arrived, John paid and then they settled into a booth near the back of the room. Sherlock's phone began to ring but he silenced it quickly after briefly checking the screen.

'Not answering?' John questioned.

'Mycroft.'

'It might be important,' John dared to say.

'It's not,' Sherlock replied in a firm dismissive tone.

John thought it best to leave the matter besides Sherlock's attention had clearly shifted towards the door. 'It looks like our con-artists have arrived,' Sherlock drawled quietly. The detective made no move to get up and greet them instead he and John watched as the group went to the bar and turned to face them when Eddie pointed over.

Sherlock's eyes darted from side-to-side as he observed the group, deducing and analysing every piece of information he could gather.

John hadn't really given much thought to what the con-artists would be like but looking at them now, they were what he would have expected from watching films/television shows. There was an older gentleman, dressed impeccably in a suit, who wasn't in charge, John decided, as he was hanging in the background but he definitely held some authority. John guessed that he was more than likely the man who had 'been there and done that' so was like a fountain of knowledge and advice. On the opposite end of the spectrum, there was a young lad who, while appearing every inch the part, was probably no more than an apprentice at this stage. There was a young, attractive, woman, who John imagined, could manipulate most men in to doing exactly what she wanted. John couldn't quite figure out the rougher looking middle-aged man who was stood in the middle of the group, although something told him this man was probably a force to be reckoned with.

What was obvious was who Michael Stone was; the man's presence was that of a leader. He walked towards them oozing confidence and charm.

'Sherlock Holmes, I presume.' Mickey said as he held out his hand in greeting.

Sherlock took it, 'And you must be Michael Stone.' It wasn't a question but Mickey still nodded in response, 'This is Doctor John Watson. Colleague of mine,' Sherlock finished as he gestured to John.

Mickey shook John's hand and then went to introduce his own colleagues but Sherlock cut in, 'Please, take a seat. The sooner we begin...'

'Sherlock,' John interrupted with a trace of embarrassment. He offered an apologetic smile in the direction of the con artists before continuing, 'Mr. Stone was about to introduce...'

'We can sit first. And please, call me Mickey.' Mickey eye's were fixed on Sherlock and John could tell the man was trying to make deductions of his own.

The group filed in to sit down in the booth and there was an awkward silence for a few seconds as everyone seemed to be assessing each other.

Everyone except Sherlock; he was getting impatient now. He broke the silence and his words were surprising for all concerned, 'John, this is Albert Stroller, Ash 'Three Socks' Morgan and Emma and Sean Kennedy.' Sherlock nodded at each person correctly, John could tell by their faces. Albert looked curious, Ash and Emma looked suspicious and Sean looked rather shocked. Mickey, for his part, had managed to keep his expression neutral with only his eyes betraying an intrigue.

'Who are you?' Mickey was direct and to the point. John could tell that Mickey wasn't a man used to being the least informed party.

'You saw the website.' Sherlock answered in a typically vague manner which suggested he thought they should work it out themselves.

'Yeah, The Science of Deduction?' Ash spoke up.

'Are you a magician?'

'Sean!' Emma rolled her eyes and nudged her brother, 'Seriously, shut-up.'

John could almost feel how unimpressed Sherlock was becoming and decided to address Mickey's original question himself, 'He's a consulting detective.'

'Dectective?' Ash groaned.

'I knew it.' Emma mumbled.

Mickey raised his eyebrows, 'A consulting detective?'

'Oh don't worry. I'm not about to hand you over to the police. How boring.' Sherlock said as his phone began to ring once more. He practically growled at the screen this time before turning off his phone completely, 'John, don't answer your phone.'

'What? My phone? It's not even...' John's phone started ringing in his pocket making him jump slightly. He reached for it. 'How did you..?'

'Mycroft. Again. He doesn't like me playing with con-artists.' Sherlock almost snatched John's phone in order to turn it off.

John shook his head. 'He's followed us?'

'You know my brother and his concern,' Sherlock spat.

'Sorry to interrupt.' Mickey stated in manner which contradicted his words, 'but I really don't like people wasting my time.'

Sherlock's response was a piercing glare and John felt like reminding him that he had used the exact same words to Eddie earlier in the day.

Instead, Albert lent forward, 'I think it's time for explanations.'

'Surely you're not feeling threatened, Albert?' Sherlock's tone was a blend of patronisation and smugness. John wanted to hit him and judging by the reactions around the table, he wasn't the only one. John had been mentally kicking himself ever since he used the word 'detective' in front of the con artists and now he had just added the fact that they were being followed; all things considered Albert and the rest of Mickey's crew had every right to feel threatened at this point.

'Look we're not here to cause trouble,' John said repeating his words from earlier, 'We do work with the police but that's not why we are here.'

'Why should we believe you?' Sean piped up.

Sherlock snorted but John ignored him and answered the young man sincerely, 'Because we're here to ask for your help.'

Mickey's eyes narrowed, 'You need our help?'

Before John could respond Eddie approached the booth with a phone in hand.

'I should have known,' Sherlock grumbled.

'Sorry to interrupt but...' Eddie didn't get the chance to finish as Sherlock stood up, took the phone and stepped away from the table. John overheard a venomous 'Good evening, Mycroft,' before his friend went out of earshot.

John rubbed a hand over his face suddenly feeling very tired. He remembered the days when Mycroft had had dental problems. He sometimes wished the man had teeth issues everyday; Mycroft's texts were somewhat easier to avoid.

'How did he...' Eddie sounded quite amazed.

'Please...please, don't,' John stopped him. He was in no mood to even try and begin to explain how Sherlock knew the call was for him or indeed who the caller was. Eddie sensed this and returned to bar.

There was silence again. Less awkward this time but more intense, especially for John who had five sets of eyes trained on him still waiting for clarifications.

'You were saying, you need our help,' Ash prompted.

'Yes,' John sighed, 'Yes. You see our landlady, Mrs Hudson...'

John continued as Sherlock came and sat back down beside him. When John got to the part about Mrs Hudson finding the card in the window something in the detective's brilliant brain told him he should have noticed earlier that this wasn't as simple as he first thought. But why?

...