For one horrible, dreary hour in November, there was nothing wrong in the world. No wars, no bombings, no attacks, no invasions, no coups, no assassinations, not even a decent murder. Mycroft and Cassandra (her) were at a total loss of what to do. These are the events that occurred in the hour.

They raced around on office chairs.

They drank priceless, ancient wine on the roof while watching the sunset.

Cassandra discovered Mycroft's talent (luckily) for throwing knives when he practiced on her. There are holes in the wall of his office now that mark the outline of her body.

Mycroft went in the women's restroom. By accident (he claims).

Something confidential that I can only refer to as "The Sheep Incident".

Eventually, they ran out of things, and they had to face the sad truth: World peace is boring.

Luckily, a illegal military raid happen five-minutes later.

And it was back to business as usual.