James Moriarty was still drooling over his new acquisition of an old friend. He had instructed one of his lackeys to construct a scaffold tower in front of Donald so that he would be able to talk face to face. And he had a surprise for the elderly dinosaur.

"I got you a present." He held a little gold gift bag in front of Donald's nose. "Do you want to see what it is?" He took the dinosaur's silence to mean yes, and with a flourish produced a state of the art electric tooth brush. "Now let's get that smile all nice and minty bright shall we?" And the master criminal set to work cleaning the magnificent set of teeth.

Unaware of Moriarty's sudden interest in dental hygiene, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were waiting at 221B Baker Street for one of Mycroft's many minions to deliver the keys and map to the under-underground. Sherlock did not like waiting one little bit. It was boring and pointless and made his brain hurt. John didn't mind. He found it was an excellent opportunity to make tea and catch up on his sandwich intake, which had seriously taken a beating over the past few days.

"What the hell is that John? " Sherlock pointed at the sandwich John had just walked past him. It looked as though it was trying to escape.

"Someone forgot it was their turn to go shopping. So I improvised. It's a barbeque super noodle and gherkin sandwich. Want a bite?" Sherlock pulled a face. "It's not bad actually."

Sherlock massaged his temples and looked blankly at the wall. Thinking. Processing. John munched his sandwich as quietly as possible. Trying to ignore the back of Sherlock's neck as much as possible.

"Stop looking at my neck John. I can hear you fantasising. It is stopping me think." John put down his sandwich.

"I thought there was only one way to stop you thinking?" he moved round to the front of Sherlock. The view wasn't bad from there either. And very slowly and deliberately John began to unbutton his shirt. "So tell me what I'm fantasising about genius."

"Stop it right now John. We have missing dinosaur to ... Oh good lord." It was a lost cause. Or at least it would have been if there hadn't been a tentative knock at the door.

"Sherlock dear?"

"Not now Mrs Hudson!"

"There's a man here. Something to do with your brother." Sherlock swore Mycroft did it on purpose, just because he wasn't getting any. Or was likely to, the fat, tight arsed git. Sherlock began plotting Mycroft's murder, not for the first time, and opened the door. A very disgruntled John Watson went back to his eccentric sandwich without even bothering to do his shirt back up.

The young man at the door had obviously been picked for his good looks. As he gave Sherlock a big grin from under a floppy quiff.

"Hi I'm David. Mr Holmes has sent me to take you on a tour of the wine cellar." The Scottish accent was quite sexy.

"You don't have to speak in code. I'm not a tourist. David?"

"David McDonald. Hi." He smiled again "I've just been moved across from another department."

"Sherlock Holmes. I'm your boss's brother." Sherlock smiled back. John had seen quite enough.

"John Watson. Captain John Watson. I'm your boss's brother's boyfriend. And I have a gun."

"Oh." David looked a bit flustered. He had obviously not been expecting a combat situation. "Well, Mr Holmes, I have the keys and maps and I'm at your disposal and I'll just wait in the car." Sherlock looked at John then back at the flustered young man at the door, then back to John's undone shirt.

"Just give me 15 minutes to get my things together." Sherlock all but slammed the door in his face. John looked so hot when he got all jealous and possessive. "I've shut the door John; you can stop holding your gut in now."

"Piss off." John tried to let his breath out very slowly.

"We have fifteen minutes. What would you like to do?" And Sherlock ran his hand up John's chest.

Moriarty was just edging carefully around Donald's incisors with sensitive teeth toothpaste, with extra whitening, when he heard a curious rattle. He held the toothbrush to his ear, considering blowing up the store he got it from if it was faulty; really the sixteen day money back guarantee was wasted on a master criminal. But the toothbrush wasn't the source of the rattle. He looked at the Diplodocus, and gently pushed against the side of his head. Rattle.

"Donald? Are you okay?" Panic stricken he peered in through one of Donald's eye sockets and saw a strange bundle stuffed inside his head. He was outraged. Did they want to give his friend a migraine? He opened the jaw and carefully reached inside until his fingers closed around a linen wrapped package. He withdrew his arm and looked at the parcel in his hands then slowly opened it.

"Oh Shit!" He exclaimed. "And quite possibly F**k, bollocks and arse as well." For once Jim Moriarty knew he had bitten off more than even Donald's impressive teeth could chew.