Andrew sighed as he stared up at the ceiling, his long legs dangling over the edge of the small couch. Carefully he placed a Nicotine patch on his left arm, it was all he could do to keep himself from going mad. He had no idea that he didn't belong in this little town, or even this world, neither did he know that his real name was Sherlock Holmes and he was once a great detective with piles of interesting cases to solve with his right-hand man, John Watson. The only thing he knew was that he was sheriff of this small town known as Storybrooke, his name was Andrew Smith, and nothing interesting ever happened here. This life was very dull and boring. Little did he know that the mayor's son, Henry, was going to run away and bring someone with him when he returned, that someone would shake things up for everyone.

The streets were deserted, all of the stores were closed, and everyone was at the Royal Wedding between Snow White and James. Almost everyone was there. Two men walked down the dirt street alone, one was tall, thin, with pale blue eyes and a perfectly carved jaw, which held up a pipe in his mouth; the other was shorter, thin, and had his hands in his pockets as his blue eyes looked around the vacant street.

"Sherlock?" The shorter man spoke up after a few moments, getting little response from Sherlock. "Don't you think we should be at the wedding? Nothing's going on out here, everyone else is at the wedding."

"If I thought we should be there, we would already be there by now," Sherlock calmly replied as he exhaled, sending smoke in a perfect circle away from him, "cheer up, Dr. Watson, you'll see something interesting soon."

"Now I'm worried, your idea of 'interesting' is never good."

The two men stopped as a third stepped out of an alleyway.

"Perfect place for a meeting, everyone's so busy with the wedding," the stranger smiled at Sherlock and then looked at Watson, "and look! You brought your little pet with you."

"James Moriarty, how good of you to join us," Sherlock commented, ignoring the fact that Moriarty just called Watson his pet. Again.

Andrew looked over at the wall across the room from him, a plain white wall, the only thing that made it remotely fascinating was the smiley face he had painted on it with yellow spray paint. Light suddenly shined on the wall as a car pulled up into the parking lot, it was Graham. The deputy finally finished his nightly drive through the town. Another dull task assigned to the police department. Andrew found little point in it, nothing ever happened. Calmly Andrew reached down and picked his gun up from the ground as the car lights shut off. Right as he heard Graham close the door, he raised the gun at the wall and fired, after releasing another shot that landed only a centimeter away from the first hole, Andrew stopped and listened to Graham's footsteps race into the building.

"What are you doing?" Graham practically shouted.

"Bored," Andrew responded.

"What?"

"Bored!" Andrew repeated, this time more agitated as he got up on his feet and fired at the wall three more times. "Bored, bored, bored!" He sluggishly walked over to the wall to investigate his handiwork, all five holes were mere centimeters away from each other. "Nothing's going on. No interesting cases. No missing people, no runaways, no murders, not even a decent robbery."

"So you're taking it out on the wall?" Graham asked, calming down as he took the gun away from Andrew. It wasn't anything serious, just another evening with a bored Andrew.

"Didn't meet with the mayor, I see," Andrew ran his fingers over the wall, "such a shame, would have given me more time to practice my aiming." Graham merely rolled his eyes, another night where Andrew analyzes how his day went just because there's nothing more exciting to do.

"To be quite honest," Moriarty spoke up, once more stating his own opinions that no one present cared to hear, "this place was much better under Regina's rule. I could do so much more under her rule, she was so obsessed with getting Snow that she paid little attention to me. My business boomed under her, it'll take a long time for the love birds to tear me down."

"Are you done?" Watson finally snapped.

"Oh no, I've only just started," Moriarty smirked, "care to join me in a walk, Sherlock?"

"Alright," Sherlock answered after exhaling more smoke out of his pipe. The two began to walk, but both stopped and looked over John whom began to follow them.

"I believe I requested only Sherlock's company, run along to the wedding."

John glared at Moriarty.

"Go on, John. It'll be alright," Sherlock stated in an eerily calm tone. John was about to open his mouth to say something when he decided to close it and leave, trusting Sherlock. The two men continued in their stroll down the empty street.

"So where have you been? I've been so lonely without my playmate," Moriarty glanced over at Sherlock, his slick, black hair glistening in the sunlight.

"A case pulled me away to a distant village," Sherlock answered, "there's really no point in acting like you didn't know. I already know everything. I know how you used Miss Adler to cause a commotion, so I'd be lured far away, while you ran around here and ruined my reputation. I returned to find everyone believes me to be a fraud."

"Oh that's just the start," Moriarty replied as they walked up the stairs on the side of the kingdom's walls, "if I remember correctly, you were the one who put the pieces together and told everyone that the strange genie killed King Leopold with the Agrabahn vipers. While it's obvious that the involvement you had in it was solving the case, they're starting to believe that you may have worked behind the scenes. That it was you who really wanted the king gone, just to make yourself look better. How sad."

"Yes, but you're forgetting that I have information on you. After quite a few encounters with Miss Adler, she was willing to hand over some letters from you that would reveal to everyone who you really are. Once they see it, they'll disregard anything you've said about me while I was gone, despite any form of proof you possess."

"But not fast enough, I'm afraid. The lovely couple will have you executed before they even consider looking over those letters. Plus, they're from a very unreliable source. However clever Miss Adler is, she is notorious for back stabbing, so they're not going to pay attention to anything that's come from her."

"I have my doubts that that would be the case."

"You lost, Sherlock. I've brought out so much evidence to support my statement that everyone completely believes it. I even got to supervise as they dug your grave as they waited for you to return."

Sherlock stopped walking and looked over the edge of the wall. It was clear just what Moriarty wanted: A long fall.

"What did you do to that wall?" Regina fumed.

"I was bored," Andrew calmly replied, looking over the mayor, he soon smiled, "but it seems my boredom is coming to an end."

"Well, at least someone could take pleasure in it."

"In what?" Graham piped in, completely lost.

"My son is missing," Regina snapped.

"Finally! Something interesting is happening!" Andrew rejoiced as he grabbed his gear.

"Oh yes, my son is missing and you have the indecency to take pleasure in it."

"Who cares about decency? The game, Madame Mayor, is on!"