Sherlock and John silently walk through the halls of Sherlock's gigantic home. John, every few steps, glances at Sherlock, then at the ground.

"What?" Sherlock asks, annoyed.

"Where are we going?" John asks.

"The west wing," he says. "There's a toy in trouble."

John looks at Sherlock for many seconds. "Why did that boy want you?"

"Why do you think?"

"I know he wants your help, but why you? I know this is your house, but—"

"But?"

"He wouldn't want your help just because this is your house."

"I'm the smartest person in this house who can't read," Sherlock explains. "Everyone knows I am. They all ask me for help, I'm like a detective."

"But he was older than us," John says.

"So?"

"So he wouldn't come to a little, little kid if he has a problem."

Sherlock grins and walks straight. "When I met you yesterday, I asked if you had an accident."

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I didn't know. I figured it out. The way you shyly walk and don't talk unless you have to, I just figured you were in an accident or you are shy."

"You said I have to go to the special doctor?"

"You carry your stuffed animal around for security," Sherlock says, "Of course you have to go to the special doctor."

"Was your brother also in the accident?" Sherlock asks.

"Sorry, what?"

"Your brother." Sherlock rolls his eyes when John still looks confused. "Your watch, it was for someone older. It could have been yours, but I saw on the back it says Harry W. Your name is John, so this was given to you by your brother, Harry."

John grins. "Amazing!" he says.

Sherlock looks at him. "You think so?"

"Yes, of course! Why wouldn't I!"

Sherlock shrugs. "My Mother always tells me not to tell strangers things about them."

"Why would she do that?"

"People don't like it, she says."

"I thought it was cool," John says.

Sherlock looks over at him and smiles.

They make it to the first hallway of the west wing, and John tugs on Sherlock's coat. "I have to tell you something," he says.

"What?" Sherlock curiously asks.

"Harry isn't my brother," John says.

"Is he your Dad? Your Uncle?"

John shakes his head and chuckles. "Harry is my sister!"

Sherlock stops, stunned. "Sister?"

"Yes! Her name is Harriet, but we call her Harry."

Sherlock sighs and hits his forehead. "Sister!" he says. "There's always something!"

John laughs.

They arrive in the west wing and quickly find a girl John doesn't recognize, one of the kids who was sleeping in the playroom.

"Where are Mikie and the girl from yesterday?" John asks.

"They like to play together in the playroom," Sherlock explains.

John and Sherlock walk towards the room where the girl is standing outside the door.

"Hello, freak," she says.

"Hello, Sally," Sherlock replies.

"Why are you here?" Sally demands.

"I was asked to come," he says.

"Oh yeah?" she says, stepping to him and crossing her arms. John can see she's two inches taller than him and she looks much more scary. "You know what I think?"

"Always, Sally!" he says. "Even though I know you spent the night elsewhere last night."

"How did you know that?" she demands.

"Your toothpaste smells different than usual."

Sally gasps and moves out of the way.

"Can I go in now?" Sherlock asks, grinning. He walks through the door.

"Who are you?" Sally asks, stopping John.

"This is my friend," Sherlock says, taking John's hand and pulling him past Sally.

"You got a friend?" she asks, then bursts into laughter. "How did you get a friend?!"

They both ignore her and go through to the room to the corner where the older boy and another boy are.

"What have we here?" Sherlock asks.

"They found this this morning," the boy says, looking up at Sherlock. He glances at John. "Who are you?"

"I'm—" John starts.

"This is John, he's my friend."

"Oh," the boy says. "I'm Greg."

John shakes Greg's hand.

"This is Anderson," Sherlock says. "I don't like him."

"Hey!" Anderson exclaims. "That was mean!"

Sherlock steps close to Anderson and sniffs. "Your toothpaste matches Sally's."

Anderson's eyes grow wide. "So?"

Sherlock grins. "Do your other friends know you had a sleepover with a girl?" Sherlock asks, amused.

"What? No!" Anderson says.

Sherlock laughs, then Greg joins in. "You had a sleepover with a girl?!" Greg asks.

"No, I didn't!" Anderson says.

Sherlock laughs one last time, then kneels next to a stuffed animal. "John?" he asks.

John kneels.

"What do you see here?"

"Uh," John stares at it. It's a stuffed dog character from that show Blue's Clues. John thinks her name is Magenta. "It's head is missing."

"Yes, but what else?"

"Hmm," John examines it further. "It looks like it was ripped."

"Yes, it does. Also, the owner of this dog did not do this."

John looks at Sherlock. "How do you know?"

"The dog is clean. The owner wouldn't wash it and rip it's head off."

John nods.

"Who owned this dog?" Sherlock asks.

"The gardener's daughter, Irene."

Sherlock nods. He thinks for a moment, touching it's fur and stuffing. Suddenly, his eyes grow wide and he gasps. "I know!" he shouts, running out of the room.

John quickly stands, grabs Trigger, and runs after him. "What have you got?" he calls after Sherlock.

"Magenta!" Sherlock shouts.

"What about it?" John asks, running after him.

"Her stuffing was magenta. And there was a lot of stuffing missing. So if we look around the house, we're bound to find some to lead us to the criminal!"

"Why didn't I think of that?" John asks, catching up to Sherlock.

"Because you're an idiot," Sherlock answers.

John looks at him with sad eyes.

"Don't look like that," Sherlock says. "Everyone is."

John still looks sad, but he follows Sherlock. "Where should we start?" he asks.

"No idea," Sherlock says. "Hungry?"

Sherlock and John walk to the kitchen. They walk in silence until John grows tired of it.

"Why don't you like the Anderson boy?" John asks.

Sherlock shrugs. "He's mean."

"And the girl?"

"She's mean, too."

John nods.

They finally make it to the kitchen and sit at the island. John grins as he finds that the stool spins, and Sherlock glares until he stops.

"Sherlock!" the cook shouts.

"Hello, Angelo," Sherlock says.

"What would you like, my boy? Anything you want."

Sherlock looks at John. "I'm not hungry, but you can eat."

John looks around the kitchen trying to decide what he wants.

"Who is your friend, Sherlock?"

"Oh, Angelo this is John. John this is Angelo, the cook."

"Last week, Sherlock proved to his Mother that I didn't steal her jewelry!"

"Yes, I proved to my Mother that he didn't steal her jewelry, but that he did accidentally let my dog go."

"I'm still sorry, Sherlock," Angelo says.

"That's ok, Angelo. Mother is getting me a new one."

Angelo smiles. "What'll it be, John?"

Fifteen minutes later, John is happily slurping away at spaghetti noodles. His little face is a mess, but he's got a huge smile. Sherlock, on the other hand, sits staring out the large window.

"What are you looking at?" John asks.

"I'm thinking about clues."

John tries to see if Sherlock sees clues out the window.

"In my head, John," Sherlock says.

"Oh," John sighs.

As John's about to finish his spaghetti, Sherlock gasps. "I got it!" he shouts.

"What? What?"

"Come on, follow me!" he hops off the stool.

John hops after him, and Sherlock looks back at him. Sherlock huffs, wipes John's face with his hand, and wipes his hand on his own trousers. John runs after Sherlock and doesn't even realize he forgets Trigger.

The two boys run down the hall towards the playroom. Once they arrive, Sherlock digs in the toy-box until he finds what he's looking for: a plastic bag full of magenta fluff.

"How did you know that was there?" John asks.

"I saw it this morning when I was looking for my magnifying glass. I knew I saw it, but I didn't remember 'til now!"

John smiles and watches Sherlock take the stuffing out, along with a piece of paper.

"Darn!" Sherlock shouts.

"What?"

"I can't read all the way!" Sherlock glares at the paper. "S-s-sh-she—" Sherlock sounds it out.

"Who can read it for us?"

Sherlock looks up at John and grins, then runs out of the room.

By the time John realizes Sherlock is gone and he himself runs out of the room, Sherlock is nowhere in sight. John doesn't know what to do, so he wanders around a bit. Then he remembers that he took his backpack to Sherlock's room, so he makes his way back to Sherlock's room.

Sherlock runs around the house until he makes it to his hallway. He hopes Mrs. Hudson is in his room so she can read the note for him. He slowly walks down the hall because he's been told a million times not to run in the halls. He makes his way to his door and notices it's ajar, then slowly opens it hoping Mrs. Hudson is in there. When he walks through the door, Sherlock gasps. It's not Mrs. Hudson. Instead, it's the boy who came two weeks before John.

"Jeff," Sherlock says to the six year old.

"Hello, Sherlock."

"You did it," Sherlock replies.

Jeff rolls his eyes. "For someone who claims to be smarter than everyone else, you sure are dumb. It wasn't me."

"It wasn't?"

"No. It was the owners of those toys. Irene did that."

"But…she wouldn't…"

"But she did!" Jeff shouts.

"You made her do it!" Sherlock shouts back.

"Yes, I did! I told her to!"

"Why?"

Jeff grins. "Because someone else told me to." Jeff picks up Sherlock's rubber skull and sits on his bed. He pats the bed next to him.

Sherlock sits on the bed next to Jeff. "Why did you do it?"

"I just said, someone told me to make them break their toys."

"Who would do that? Why would someone do that?"

"I can't tell who. And he does it to give you a taste of your own medicine."

Sherlock looks horrified. "Me? What did I do?"

"You're mean! Nobody likes you, Sherlock!" Jeff shouts.

"You can't talk to me like that!" Sherlock shouts, standing from the bed.

"I can and I will! And I'm going to make you so sad that you'll break this," Jeff hold up Sherlock's skull.

"It won't break. It's rubber!"

Jeff gets wicked smile and pulls Sherlock's magnifying glass out of his pocket. "You can break this."

"How did you get that!?"

"I took it while you were eating lunch."

Sherlock's nostrils flare with anger. "You're mean. Tell me who's making you do this!"

"No! I won't! You're an annoying little baby and I don't like you!"

Sherlock grows angry. He is about to break his favorite toy, his magnifying glass, when suddenly Jeff shouts in frustration.

"Ow!" he shouts, hopping off Sherlock's bed. When he turns around, Sherlock sees that there are six Nerf darts stuck to the back of his head. "Who did that!?" Jeff shouts.

Sherlock grins as Jeff runs out of the room. Sherlock runs after him, but runs directly into Greg as he exits his room.

"Sherlock! What happened!?" Greg asks.

"Jeff! It was him! He's going to tell his mum that someone that someone shot him with a Nerf gun!"

Greg glances down the hall Jeff's direction. "I'll tell what he did!" Greg calls after him.

Sherlock goes to one of the living rooms and flicks the television on. He sits and waits, and soon Greg walks into the room.

Greg tosses Sherlock an orange blanket. "That's from your brother," he says.

"Did you tell the truth?" Sherlock asks, taking the blanket and attempting to toss it away.

Greg nods, then grabs the blanket, opens it up, and covers Sherlock with it. "Jeff won't come back here any more!"

"Good," Sherlock says, slumped against the sofa with the blanket over him.

"Just one thing, Sherlock," Greg starts. "They asked who shot Jeff, and I didn't know. Do you know?"

Sherlock grins and looks at Greg, but John standing a bit behind Greg gets his attention. "I have an idea," he says, looking right at John.

Greg turns around to see John. "Oh, right," Greg says, smiling at John then standing off the sofa. "I can keep a secret," Greg says, then leaves the two.

"How did you know where to find me?" Sherlock asks.

"I knew you'd ask Mrs. Hudson to read the clue for you."

Sherlock nods. "You're not as big an idiot as I thought," he says.

John looks over and smiles. "Say, why did the boy do those things to the toys?"

"He didn't. The owners did it, but he told them to."

"Why'd he do that?"

"Someone told him to."

"Who?" John wants to know.

"I have no idea," Sherlock says. "But I assume they're someone who is here at the house."

John nods in agreement.

"So, you'll spend the night?" Sherlock asks, closing his eyes and slumping against John.

John falls to the other side, laying against the sofa with Sherlock's head on his hip. "Sure, Sherlock," John says.

"I knew you'd say that," Sherlock says.

"How did you know?" John asks.

"John," Angelo says. John looks up at him with sleepy eyes. "Sherlock said you'd forgotten this is in the kitchen."

John reaches up and takes Trigger from Angelo. "Thank you," he says.

Angelo nods and leaves the room.

John snuggles close to Trigger, but can't find a comfortable position. He frowns and frowns, and eventually he places Trigger on the sofa next to himself. He looks over at Sherlock and smiles, then rests his hand on Sherlock's shoulder. Finally, John finds a comfortable position and falls asleep with Sherlock.

*I had this idea a while back and I decided to write it. I might do all of the episodes if I get good responses. Thank you for reading!