Sherlock had gotten bored of watching John walk away and back to the blue car several times over, and decided to instead pull out his violin to entertain himself. Changing the tune every time John changed directions before being pulled back to the scene due to his own curiosity, although Sherlock was interested in how the taller man had managed to fracture his ankle in a car especially considering the smaller size of the vehicle. But he was more surprised that the injury was bad enough to cause the man to bleed, and John soon led the small group to their apartment stairs. So he quickly began to play his violin louder, to conveniently block out the sound of John asking him to help get the giraffe man up the stairs.

Eventually John opened the door and he held the door open as the three strangers stumbled inside, dropping their injured friend onto the chair with care as John went to get supplies. He tried to keep playing the violin but eventually interest won over and he tossed the violin carelessly on the ground before spinning around and landing on the couch, staring the man directly in the eyes, only putting off the man momentarily, as the man did the same thing to him, leaving the two in an observant staring contest, although it just seemed that the other man was dozing off, as he didn't seem to notice when Sherlock finally blinked.

The man seemed a lot scrawnier than he had originally observed but then again his jacket was still outside trampled on the ground, and both of his braces had fallen off of his shoulders at some point, his bowtie hanging loosely from his neck, no longer tied. He also had some rather steampunk looking goggles perched on top of his head, keeping his hair out of his face, he could also see the line of light dirt to very dark soot around his eyes, so he had probably had them on while fishing around in the vehicle for his shoe and the girls jacket, although why the man had those goggles in the car in the first place was beyond him. Although the man seemed younger than him, around mid 20's, his eyes very much reminded him of John, like having been through horrible things, this man wanted to have nothing to do with his past, while John seemed to miss the action. The man's eye's held far too much regret for his age, maybe he was older than his appearance, but no it still wouldn't explain his odd dress style, like a man from the 1920's, all the way from his tweed jacket to the bowtie none of his style was moderately modern. Even the haircut was a bit strange, but that could be more from the man's eccentricity than his apparent lack of knowledge of modern fashion. The undershirt had been stitched up, probably more times than either men cared to count, and the soles of his shoes were practically worn down to a hair, like he spent most of his time running, then again with his earlier assumption of possibly being attacked by someone, perhaps he was important the government, or perhaps someone more unsavory. His mind quickly jumped to Moriarty, but then again the man didn't seem to want to be here either. He seemed more inconvenienced about his ankle than angry or in pain. Despite being rather jumpy earlier the man had just been sitting and contemplating the whole time, like he had bigger things to worry about then a horribly fractured ankle, which had soaked his sock almost completely with blood. It must have almost dried in most parts considering the sock was too brown to be wet, even if covered in soot and dirt.

No he must be important to the government, he was obviously using an alias, he almost seemed more comfortable stating that his name was the Doctor then by calling himself Dr. Smith. Then again Smith was a good cover for a last name, it was so blandly uninteresting and common that it would be nearly impossible to look up and find results. But then why would he go and pick up his friends? Best friends from the look of it. He must know about the dangers of whatever his job was, that apparently involved a lot of running and apparently a lot of death, lots of small injuries to the point where a broken ankle doesn't even seem to bother him.

But then the nose walked in and he noticed that his shoes were nearly as run in as the Doctors, and if women didn't tend to have so many shoes, he assumed the woman's shoes would be just as worn. So they worked together, but not as long as the other man had been working, but what on Earth had they been doing? Clearly not Espionage the giraffe was clearly too clumsy to function without the others, and the nose didn't seem nearly intelligent enough, although the legs seemed qualified for the job although she seemed a bit too, flirtatious to get the job done, but then again it would probably be just as if not more effective. And the couple seemed to look up to the man, even if they did seem to be a bit put off by the man, and the legs seemed to glare angrily at the bowtie like it was personally offending her. But then again the woman was somehow wearing woven sea glass as a halter top and skirt with a red leather jacket and black heals so if anybody had the right to question anyone's fashion in the group it was the nose, who was sensibly wearing a short sleeved collared shirt and trousers. The legs seemed to be more fond of the giraffe then the nose, so they had probably known each other the longest, but then again the nose and the legs have seemingly been friends for a very long time, even though the legs had a Scottish accent and the nose had a British one.

If Sherlock had to be honest with himself the entire group was nearly impossible to interpret, mainly because of the giraffe and whatever they did for a living.

"So what do you three do for a living?" John asked the group, seemingly noticing Sherlock's thought block.

"Oh uhm, I'm a nurse, Amy uhm…" Sherlock was surprised by both bits, the nose had nerves of a hamster, and although him and the legs were married he was still somehow embarrassed by her job. Then again whatever it was must have to do with the flirtatiousness. But it didn't help narrow down their other job.

"I'm a kiss-o-gram, it's a good laugh," The legs said rather proudly although she did seem to expect a negative reaction, it was clear by the looks of the nose and the giraffe that they didn't necessarily approve of the job either, but decided to not bring it up.

"I'm a doctor," the giraffe mumbled, like it was clearly obvious as he had introduced himself as such.

"Doctor of what," Sherlock said rather curiously.

"Lots of things, medicine, biology, cheese-making…" The giraffe seemed to continue the list on in his head for several moments before realizing that he had stopped talking, and that John had bent down to look at his ankle. The giraffe slowly peeled off his bloody sock and slowly rolled up his pant leg, showing a badly bruised ankle, although the blood seemed to be coming from a large cut, rather than the broken ankle itself.

"Actually I think I'm not gonna watch this…" The legs mumbled walking out of the living room and into the kitchen. "WHY THE HELL ARE THERE EYEBALLS ON THE COUNTER?!"


Author's Note: The Sherlock chapters tend to be longer and more text based then dialogue based. Hopefully i'll be able to make the chapters longer in the near future but i felt that this was a good place to leave off. Sherlock would probably be able to analyze Rory and Amy better if he wasn't so busy trying to figure out how everything ties in with the doctor XD

Adios Lovelies!