"Is that you Sherlock?" called Mrs. Hudson when she heard the front door opening.
"You realise that if it wasn't me, they probably wouldn't answer you, right?" said Sherlock, making his way upstairs.
"I think a simple yes or no would have been enough," said John, following behind him.
"I'm aware," said Sherlock. "I'm just pointing out that…"
"There's a man here to see you," called Mrs. Hudson. "He says it's a matter of national urgency."
"That could be important," said Watson, pushing past Sherlock to get into the room.
"Or a waste of time," said Sherlock, following the doctor with a more leisurely pace.
"Mr. Holmes, I presume," said James, standing up and offering his hand to Sherlock. Sherlock simply ignoring him as he walked past to sit in his favourite chair. "O…kay," he said, turning to his companion. "And I assume you must be Dr. Watson."
"Yes, that would be me," said John, shaking the spy's hand. "And who might you be?"
"The name's Bond," said James. "James Bond."
"Alright James, what can we do for you?" asked John, offering a seat to the spy as he sat down himself.
"Or more accurately, what can we do for MI6?" asked Sherlock.
James looked a little shocked by Sherlock's question. "How did you…"
"My first clue was from before myself and Watson even walked in the door," said Sherlock. "Out on the street, there's a silver Aston Martin parked across the road. Such an expensive car does stand out in a place such as this, though not impossible that someone would stop by here. Except I also noticed that there seemed to be modifications to the car. Exactly what those are would be difficult to say without further examination, but clearly it's not a normal vehicle. Next is the suit. Incredibly expensive looking, that combined with a car like the one outside makes it clear to me you're likely a government worker. You appear to be in excellent health, which means that either you frequent the gym or your job requires you to be in good shape. That's when I noticed your gun…"
"Gun?" asked John, suddenly on edge. "Where's his…"
"Oh please John, even you should have seen the slight bulge next to his shoulder there," said Sherlock, nodding towards a bump coming from something under James's suit jacket. "The use of firearms by the normal police in this country has been decreasing for years, so you're quite obviously someone highly trained. Therefore, I conclude that you must be a spy working for MI6. So again I ask: what does MI6 want with me?"
James looked quite impressed by Sherlock's deduction, and decided that he could trust this man to help him with their problem. "Last night I was sent to foil a terrorist plot," began James. "However, much of the information I had was either incorrect or just not fully factual. When reporting back to my superior, he seemed…uneasy about some of my information. He insisted I recruit you as a consultant in this matter."
"Not interested," said Sherlock, picking up a newspaper on the table beside him.
"Excuse me?" asked James, shocked by the response.
"Oh, was my response not clear?" asked Sherlock. "Let me say it in easier to understand words then: I don't wish to be involved in this matter."
"Sherlock, this sounds serious," said John. "I really think you…"
"I'm sorry, do you know what I should or shouldn't do better than I do?" asked Sherlock, not looking up from his paper.
"Mr. Holmes, I'm afraid my orders were to take you to headquarters, whether you were willing or not," said James, standing up and drawing his gun. "Now, are you going to come willingly, or do I have to use this?"
"Oh, come off it, you're not going to shoot me," said Sherlock, barely even reacting to the weapon pointed at him. "You need me alive, and presumably in good health. Shooting me would risk both. Also, 'willingly' implies I have a choice in the matter. If I'm required to go, it means I don't have a choice, does it."
James gave the detective an angry look, before putting away his gun. Sherlock didn't say anything, simply smirking at the spy. James, however, took this opportunity to quickly send his fist flying at Sherlock, knocking him out cold as he struck his temple. "Dr. Watson, I assume I don't have to knock you out too?"
"Was it entirely necessary to knock him out?" asked John.
"Maybe, maybe not," said James, getting one of Sherlock's arms under his shoulder. "But it did feel good."
"He does need a good clobbering every once in a while," agreed John, getting Sherlock's other arm under his shoulder. "So, what sort of mission are we getting involved in."
"I'll give you the finer details once we're in the car," said James as the two of them made it to the staircase. "But, uh…first question: do you believe in magic, doctor?"
"…magic?" asked John as they began their descent.
"Are you likely to be back for dinner?" called Mrs. Hudson, back she didn't get a response. "Typical." She sighed, then began cleaning the study.