Sherlock smiled as he tied his scarf around his neck. "I'm glad that you're coming with me," he said. "You'll find it's much more exciting over there. Don't you agree that London's so dull?"

"It can be, yeah," John nodded. His head quickly turned to a scraping sound behind his bedroom door.

"Who's there?" Sherlock asked, flying to the door. Greg and Mycroft fell into his room when the door was opened. "Sneaks!"

"It's all Greg's fault!" Mycroft said, pointing his finger at his young brother.

"Was not!"

"I presume that these are your young brothers," said Sherlock.
"Who's he?" Greg asked.

"He's Sherlock Holmes!" John answered.

"Hello, Sherlock," Mycroft said, "My name is Mycroft."
"And I"m Greg," added Greg.

Sherlock gave them a brief smile before facing John. "Are you ready to go?"

"Go where?" Greg asked.

"Sherlock's taking us to Neverland," John explained.

"Us?" asked Sherlock.

"I can't leave Greg and Mycroft. They're just kids."

"Well, alright then," Sherlock drawled. "I guess they can come. Let's go!"

"But Sherlock," John said, "how do we get to Neverland?"

"We fly, of course."

"Fly?" asked Mycroft. "But that's impossible."

"This is impossible?" Sherlock leaped into the air, and, to John's amazement, began to circle around the ceiling.

"That was brilliant," John said when Sherlock returned to the floor.

"Really?" Sherlock seemed surprised.

"Yeah."

Sherlock smiled. "Thanks."

"I want to do that!" said Greg, jumping up and down.

"It's easy," said Sherlock. "Just go to your mind palace and think of a happy thought."

"Wait, your what?" asked John.

"Your mind palace," Sherlock explained. He looked slightly insulted as Greg and Mycroft continued to give him confused looks. John could only assume that his face looked like his brothers. "The place where you store information."

"Okay," John said slowly, "so we're just supposed to think of a memory, and we'll fly?"

"It doesn't have to be a memory," Sherlock continued. "It has to be a happy thought. Anything that makes you happy!"

"I'll think of cake!" Mycroft said as he climbed onto the bed.

"And I'll pretend I'm on holiday," added Greg, joining his brother on the mattress.

"And do you have your memory?" Sherlock asked John. He shut his eyes. He could see himself fighting criminals around the world, never growing up. That was a very happy thought. John nodded, and took his place on his bed with his brothers.

"Now, on the count of three, think of your happy thought and jump," instructed Sherlock. "One, two, three!"

John jumped, only to find himself in a pile on the floor with Mycroft and Greg.

"That's odd," pondered Sherlock. "It should have- oh."

"What went wrong?" John asked, pulling himself off of Greg.

"Pixie dust. I can't believe I forgot pixie dust!"

"What?"

Sherlock jumped and flew to the opposite side of the room. "Molly? No, Molly, I haven't been ignoring you. I just need you for a moment."

"Who's he talking to?" Greg asked John.

"Molly Hooper," said John. "She's a pixie."

Sherlock flew back to them, holding the petite sprite in his hands. "Pixie dust helps you fly."

"So the happy thoughts are pointless?" asked Mycroft, using his umbrella to help him stand up.

"No, of course not," Sherlock said. "Happy thoughts are one of the many components, along with faith and trust. Now hold still!"

Sherlock moved to shake the pixie dust over each of the heads, and John found himself on the receiving end of her glare. "That won't hurt her, will it?"

"No, she'll be fine," he answered, sprinkling the dust over his head. John felt his feet leave the floor.

"That's amazing!" John did a flip in the air, laughing at how light he was. Mycroft soon joined him, followed by Greg.

"Follow me!" called Sherlock, soaring out the window. John flew after him, smiling as he saw the starry night.

"Good-bye Mrs. Hudson!" Greg yelled. John turned around and saw his brothers wave farewell to the trusted companion.

John had never felt so alive before. His entire life had been filled with rules, but now he knew what it was like to be free. After a few minutes of flying, Sherlock stopped, hovering hundreds of feet off the ground. "See that star?" he asked, pointing to a large bright star. John nodded. "To get to Neverland, go to the second star to the right, and straight on 'til morning! Now let's go!"