Not only has my mind been terribly slow, this laptop, which is still not my own and still does not had Word on it, has been painfully slow. Therefore, if there are any spelling mistakes, it is the keyboards fault for not being able to keep up with my typing. It's driven me mad.

Did anyone go to the Sherlock convention? Or SDCC?

Thanks for your patience, follows, favorites and reviews. It means so much to me. I'm not really sure I like this chapter. But I want to move on, as I'm sure you guys want me to as well.

Emily had made her way into the main hall to try to find a seat for her and Sherlock. She had entered the room with the idea of finding a couple that would be apart from John and his date, to allow them some semblance of privacy. Or better yet, Emily thought to herself, I can find one to sit on all by myself. No Sherlock in my ear telling me how the performers are mastering everything.

However, as she entered the room, she discovered, much to her annoyance, that there were no seats. Instead, the people that had arrived were beginning to congregate around a circle of candles, despite the stage not being very far away.

Normally, she wouldn't have minded standing, but the walk to the venue had left her feeling a little dizzy. Especially since she had to try to keep up with Sherlock's long strides.

She opened her coat in an attempt to cool herself down and wondered if she had underdressed considering John was looking rather smart in his work clothes and Sherlock was wearing, well, what Sherlock wore everyday. Emily looked down at herself and came to the conclusion that, yes, she had gone underdressed. After a quick shower and hair wash that stung like hell when she got shampoo in her injury (She had politely interrupted Sherlock by repeating his name over and over again, her voice rising with every syllable until he looked away from the paper on the wall and asked him to check she had got all of the offending product from the wound) she had thrown on the cleanest pair of jeans she could find and a green blouse she had forgotten she owned.

She turned back the way she had come with the intention of finding out where Sherlock had disappeared to. He was either annoying John or had found something to do with the case to keep him occupied. She reached the top of the stairs and continued down towards the pair, it was apparently the former. It looked as if they were having an argument.

"...Dressed as a tightrope walker. Come on, Sherlock, behave!" Oh yes, they were arguing.

"There's no bloody seats here." Emily interrupted them.

Sherlock, who had been about to open his mouth to retaliate turned his head sharply to face the blonde who, standing on the step below him, was almost as tall as him. "What?"

"There's no seats here. What kind of circus do you call this?"

"It's a Chinese circus."

"You couldn't even take me to a real circus." She huffed under her breath. Sherlock now looked back to John who was almost wearing a look of amusement. Almost.

"We're looking for a killer who can climb, who can shin up a rope." He continued with what he was going to say before he had been interrupted. "Where else would you find that level of dexterity? Exit visas are scarce in China. They need a pretty good reason to get out of the country. Now, all I need to do it have a quick look round the place..."

"Fine. You two do that; I'm gonna take Sarah for a pint."

"I need your help." Sherlock spoke sternly.

"You've got Emily. And I do have a couple of other things on my mind this evening!"

"Like what?"

"Jesus Christ." Emily muttered to herself as she shook her head. John stared at the man in disbelief.

"You are kidding."

"What's so important?"

"For a man who solves cases for Scotland Yard, you really don't know anything do you?" Emily asked him softly earning her a somewhat puzzled look.

"Sherlock, I'm in the middle of a date. D'you want me to chase some killer while I'm trying to-" Emily had a feeling she knew how that sentence finished.

"What?"

But John, who had lost his patience and apparently the ability to control the level of his voice, began talking much louder. "While I'm trying to get off with Sarah!" Emily sniggered and turned around to hide her face from, inevitably, Sarah who had seemingly appeared from nowhere. "Heyyy." Emily heard from behind her and moved alongside Sherlock when he gently took her elbow and steered her up the rest of the stairs.

"Still feeling dizzy?" Sherlock spoke as they entered the hall.

"Only a little."

"If it gets worse you can lean on me." Her head snapped up to look at him so quickly she felt her neck pop. She wouldn't be surprised if he heard it. Did she hear him right? That didn't sound like the Sherlock she knew.

The lights were dim as the other patrons gathered round the circle of candles. Now Emily understood why they were not using the stage for their performance. With the small crowd that was gathered, everyone would have room to be comfortable, they would have a clear view of the performance.

John, noticing Emily and Sherlock standing rather close to the doorway they had just entered, steered Sarah further into the room, hoping the Consulting Detective wouldn't notice his flatmate was trying to stay as far away as possible. His plan failed however, when Sherlock placed his hand on Emily's lower back and walked her towards the couple, only stopping when they were right behind them.

"We couldn't have just stayed over there could we?"

"Where would the fun be in that?" Sherlock mumbled into her ear, sending a wave of goose bumps down her neck and a breath of laughter to escape her mouth.

"You've positioned us great here Sherlock by the way. Absolutely brilliant." Her sarcasm was thick, but it may have gone over the taller mans head.

"What? Why?"

"I can't see anything." She moved to stand directly behind John to prove her point. All she could see was the back of the man's jacket. She only needed another few inches and she would have been able to watch over his shoulder.

"Move here if you like Em." John spoke over his shoulder as he indicated the space next to him. She paused. She didn't want Sarah to feel like she was intruding on their date. Though she and Sherlock gate crashing it may have already done the trick. She met the gaze of the woman to find a smile directed at her in encouragement. She cautiously moved to stand next to her friend, anticipating a hand on her arm to pull her back. She was relieved when none came.

"Thanks John." A moment of silence passed as none of them knew what to say. Emily chanced a look behind her to see what Sherlock was doing, only to find him scoping the place. She could only wonder what exactly he was looking for. He was quickly disturbed by John.

"You said Circus. This is NOT a circus. Look at the size of this crowd. Sherlock, this is...art."

"You make it sound awful."

"This is not their day job."

"According to you." Emily mumbled.

"No, sorry, I forgot. They're NOT a circus; they're a gang of international smugglers."

The beat of a small drum interrupted any further conversation that may have occurred. A woman, her face rather heavily painted, walked into the centre of the circle. She raised a hand in the air, and the drums stopped with a riff. As the ornately costumed woman walked across the circle to a large object that was covered in a cloth, Emily had to admit to herself, that she was already bored. As if she had already seen the act and hadn't enjoyed it the first time.

If she really looked at the woman with the heavily painted face, she could almost have sworn she had seen her before somewhere. So the dress she wore was different from the time she had seen this woman before, but there was definitely something that screamed recognition to Emily.

For some reason, as she zoned out into her imagination, she could almost hear Jim's voice tell her what was happening step by step. Though why she would hear Jim's voice at a time like this was even more confusing for her. But with Jim's voice in her head, she felt as if she knew what was coming. A performer would be chained to a painted board that he would have to escape before the arrow the woman was now showing to the audience embedded itself in the victim. The voice of Jim that she could hear in her mind was practically lulling her to sleep. Her eyelids suddenly felt heavier, and she could not control the yawn that escaped her mouth.

"Classic Chinese escapology act." The soft voice that belonged to Sherlock spoke at the same time as the Jim in her head, whispering the same words as her childhood best friend. She cracked a smile when the Jim in her mind let out an indignant curse at being interrupted.

"Hmm?"

"The crossbow's on a delicate string. The warrior has to escape his bonds before it fires." Emily tucked her hands into the pockets of her jeans, wishing she had stayed at home. She could have been in bed at that moment. And bed sounded awfully wonderful. She began to daydream about the cosiness of her covers, ignoring the cries of the warrior being strapped to the board, ignoring Sarah as she jumped at the cymbals crashing for added effect. Ignoring Sherlock as he continued with his audio commentary.

"She splits the sandbag; the sand pours out; gradually the weight lowers into the bowl."

She did however spare a frown for the man that had just stepped into the space a few feet in front of her. I could have been watching that! She thought to herself as the chained man began continued to cry out with effort, tugging in the chains.

It was at this moment, that she felt a hand on her elbow, a cheek resting against the back of her head as a dangerously low voice whispered into her ear. "Come with me." It wasn't a threat, but neither was it a question. As the hand tightened slightly against her arm, she turned and followed her taller flat mate to where ever it was he was taking her. Her boredom for the show had grown so large she would have followed anyone out of the room.

He lead her towards a corridor she hadn't noticed before, the light considerably brighter than it was out on the floor.

"Sherlock what are we doing?" She whispered to her companion who slipped his hand from her elbow to her wrist.

"Looking. Obviously."

"Obviously." Her sarcasm was missed on the man in front of her. "But what are we doing back here? Isn't this the stage?"

"It's being used as the dressing room." The pair had entered the 'dressing room' to find the costumes and dressing tables covered with makeup.

"Smart arse." She mumbled as she moved over to the curtain at the sound of the applause. She watched through the gap in the curtains as a masked acrobat descended from the ceiling and began his act. "Surely that's a fire hazard?" She questioned to herself as the material in the acrobats act floated dangerously close to the candles. She didn't jump as the curtain moved aside for Sherlock to see what was going on. But she would be lying to herself if she denied her heart rate didn't speed up.

"Well, well." His rumbling voice in her ear clued her into just how close he was. His chest was pressed into her back and she wasn't sure if he had done that on purpose

"You found something?" Though her question was unnecessary. His choice of words made that obvious. He had just opened his mouth to reply when a door opened to their right.

Without wasting time, Sherlock grabbed Emily's hand and pulled her backwards, pushing himself through the clothes hanging on their railings. Making sure Emily too was hidden behind them, before arranging them to look as if they had never been touched.

Emily wished her heart rate would slow down as she too listened to whatever was happening on the other side of the railing.

As something clattered to the floor beside them, Sherlock had to cover her mouth with his hand to stop her from gasping out loud, his other hand on her waist to prevent her from toppling them both over when she wobbled in her position.

Emily looked down at whatever her hand had landed on to help stop her from falling over. A bag that hadn't been zipped all the way sat next to her. She raised her hand to her face as Sherlock pulled her down further. Oh great, she thought to herself, more yellow paint to scrub off.

As a door shut on the other side of the railing, she moved her hand to show Sherlock her discovery over her shoulder. "Look at this." She whispered into his hand. She gently pushed the bag towards him and listened as he rummaged through the contents.

"Found you." He hummed in her ear and quickly helped her up before shoving through the railing.

Her legs felt dead as she stretched. The pins and needles came quickly as she wiggled her toes around. In a vain attempt to be rid of the paint on her hand, she found a spare piece of cloth on a makeup table and furiously began to wipe them. Only stopping when she heard grunting. It seemed one of the costumes had come to life. And he wasn't very keen on Sherlock.

She quickly moved around the dressing room looking for a weapon. She panicked when she found none. But the next time she turned, it was to see Sherlock go flying through the curtain. She picked up a chair in desperation, and smashed it over the head of their attacker. It did nothing however, so she was not surprised when her coat was grabbed and she too was thrown out of the room.

Her left side landed on something soft that she suspected was Sherlock.

"You alright?" He sounded winded and she couldn't help but wonder if she had caused it by landing on him.

"I feel dizzy." She lifted her head to find their attacker flying out of the curtains towards them. Or rather three of their attackers. "Why are there three? I thought there was only one." She let her head fall back onto Sherlock's shoulder and watched at the costumed assailant raised a knife.

Only to be stopped by John charging him backwards out of Emily's line of sight. Whatever John had attempted had clearly failed. As the warrior stood before them once more, knife in hand, raised and ready to kill, Emily curled into Sherlock, grasping onto the his coat to not only to help steady her vision but to perhaps take the first blow.

Once more however, he was thwarted. This time by Sarah. Emily only heard the grunts of pain followed by someone falling to the ground.

Emily was gently pushed aside in order for the detective to sit up and remove the shoe of the warrior. But she paid him no mind as Sarah helped her from the floor, a wild look in her eye as she surveyed the blonde up and down looking for any external damage.

"Talk about girl power!" Emily smiled and held tightly onto the warm hand that was securely holding hers. Still a little unsteady on her feet as Sherlock finally stood from the floor.

John, a little breathless and doubled over in pain, took hold of her other hand. "Come on."

"John are you ok?"

"Just move Em."

"Come on! Let's go!" Three Sherlock's were already racing ahead of them.

Emily knew one thing. If, or more likely when, Sherlock solved this case, her head would be pounding.