Yes, we have landed at chapter 5! Thank you for everyone who had reviewed, favourite, followed, communitied, and reviewed again. Here is the window scene.

"Come on John, ladies first."

"What!? I'm not a lady."

"Yes you are. Now go through the window."

"What?! I can't fit through that window! It's tiny!"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, and folded his arms.

"Really, you're going to do this now?"

"Do what now?"

"Make a big fuss about how the window is too small, just because you're scared to go through."

"No I'm not!"

"Prove it then!"

"But it's too small!" John said, exasperated.

"Thus proving my point." Sherlock said, a smirk forming on his face.

John glared at Sherlock. Sherlock just raised an eyebrow, the smirk still on his face.

"FINE! I'll go through the window! Step aside, Sherlock."

Sherlock paused for a moment, in thought, before saying. "Actually, I'll go through first. You'll just waste time."

John stared at him. He was just impossible. Sherlock opened the window a bit wider, and then looked inside.

"All clear."

This just made John even more annoyed. Look who's stalling now, he thought. Typical Sherlock.
Sherlock looked back at John, seeming to read his mind as he said "Now, you wouldn't want me to get hit over the head with a saucepan, now would you?"

And with that, Sherlock went through the open window. First, he stuck his head through, and then squeezed his shoulders through. He pulled himself through, his narrow waist easily fitting through the window. He jumped down from the window, which was near the celling in the room he was in, and gestured to John. John put his bag through the window, and Sherlock took it. Sherlock then gestured for John to go through.

John gulped. This was not going to be big on dignity. He stuck his head through the window. So good, so far. He pushed his shoulders through, having to work them through a bit, but nonetheless getting through. He pulled himself through a little more, until he felt his hips against the window frame. He tried pulling himself through, but he couldn't. Damn it. He tried twisting his hips, but he still couldn't get through. He was stuck.

"Um… Sherlock." He whispered at the darkness.

"Sherlock… I appear to be… stuck."

He heard moving around in the darkness, and then saw a slim figure walk over to the window.

"Sherlock?" he whispered again.

"John, hold on to my arms, and I'll pull you through."

"Wait Sherlock-"

But Sherlock was already pulling him. He could feel the window still rub against his hips, but suddenly, he was free, and he flew through the window, toppling them both. John and Sherlock lay on the cold, hard ground of the pantry, trying their best not to make a sound. Sherlock managed to get up, and walked around the corner to the main pantry, and froze. He heard John getting up, loudly, and walking over to his side. He heard John open his mouth to speak, but before he could do so, he shushed him. He could see someone sitting on one of the chairs, feet resting on the large table in the centre of the room. The figure seemed unarmed, but Sherlock wasn't taking any chances. There was something wrong with the figure; the way they were sitting. It just didn't seem… right, somehow. He picked up a saucepan that was lying on the ground, and walked into the main pantry.

"Why are you here?" Sherlock asked, brandishing the saucepan. He could see better from here, and he could tell that the man sitting in the chair seemed unfazed. The man was also eating some sort of preservative out of a jar, sticking his finger in and the sticking it in his mouth. The man raised the arm holding the jar, and Sherlock heard a metallic clang, as his arm suddenly stopped. He was handcuffed to the table.

Guess who it is yet? It's not that difficult to guess. If you have suggestions or anything, review now please.