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JohnIsn'tAFanOfFlyingEiterJohn made an undignified screeching noise. Much like a small girl or a startled bird. And that was before he dropped his coffee.
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The man who was on the receiving end of all this raised an eyebrow, "Can I hel-"
"I beg your-"
"Minnie! Ginger-Sherlock! MINNIEGINGERSHERLOCK!" he was now arbitrarily pointing at the man in the middle of the airport.
"I'm not-"the man tried, he honestly, honestly tried.
John had moved faster then the man could keep up as John took his hat off, looked at his hair, flicked the wrist that he wore his watch on, sniffed him, checked his shoes, and stared at his finger tips.
The man felt rather like a science project.
Sherlock came up behind John. He nodded to the man, "Captain Crieff."
"Mister Holmes." The man said back, slightly tipping his captains hat then following the beckoning of a flight attendant holding more Toblerones then he should be able to.
"Sherlock!" John said dramatically point back at the man.
"Yes, John. I saw, John." He started leadin
Sherlock No Longer LikesFlyingHe poked him in the nose.
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From what Sherlock could tell he was fifty six, English, used to be an airline pilot but now was the First Officer (judging from his tie) and had a slight addiction to Angry Birds. Why, however this man had just poked him in the nose confused even him, the great Sherlock Holmes.
"Martin, what are you wearing?"
"What is this coat? Pretending to be Neo?"
"I do not know who you think I am, but I'm neither Martin, nor Neo." Sherlock said. He was a bit throw off guard. Especially when the man poked him in the nose the second time.
"Do tell though, what on earth has happened to your hair?" the man asked pulling at a curl. Sherlock would have, on a normal occasion used the multiple forms of martial arts he knew to stop the man from touching his person but, did he just bloody well poke him in the nose
"Douglas, what are you doing, harassing random passer- oh." A short man coming from Duty Free halted in his tracks.
"Who's this then?" the