Chain of Drabbles

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes.

Title: Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!

Pairing for the chapter: Sherlock/John

Warnings: none

Prompt: It happened again

Dr. John Watson sighed in exasperation. He was tied to a chair, again, being held at gunpoint, again, and with some sort of lowlife criminal mistaking him for Sherlock, AGAIN!

Really, what was it with criminals that they tended to forget how Sherlock looked, he had even posted a picture on his blog and linked it to Sherlock's page, for easy access. Was it too much to ask for a criminal 'mastermind' to google a picture before kidnapping someone? With a 'mastermind' label, it's a logical deduction that said person would have a certain level of intelligence or skills to properly search someone before any nefarious plot is put in action. Hell, he wasn't exactly expecting a genius or even an IQ like Sherlock's, just a basic level of understanding and willingness to do research! Honestly, with criminals like that, was it any wonder that they ended up caught and/or dead? At least this time he wasn't with Sarah, thank God! Sherlock would probably murder him if he ended up in such a situation with Sarah again..

John huffed, and would have slouched on the chair if he wasn't chained to it. At the sound of a gun clicking he looked up at the criminal. It wasn't worth it trying to remember his name.

"What?" He asked, in that annoyingly bored tone that he usually chided Sherlock for.

"You're awfully sure of yerself, Mr. Holmes, to talk to me like that."

John Watson couldn't help but roll his eyes at the man. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not Sherlock!"

"Sure yer not." The criminal rolled his eyes.

The next few moments were spend in pure boredom while they clearly waited the rest of the supposed group. The ones to arrive, instead, were clearly MI5 men.

In moments it was all over, the man arrested, the MI5 searching the hide out and a few of them untying him and asking a few questions. Behind them? The figure of two people, both tall but one a bit larger around the middle than the other one. Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes.

"So, what happened this time?" John asked as he approached the brothers.

"Another one wanting revenge. They mistook you, for Sherlock. Honestly, I keep telling you two to come work for us, I've no idea why you keep refusing, anyway, we're practically done here, is there anything else Sherlock?"

"No, no there isn't."

"You're unusually silent," John said a few minutes after Mycroft had left. To that Sherlock just shook his head in resignation. During the few hours where he had had no idea where John was, he had had an epiphany. Now all he had to do was lead John, subtly, to the same conclusion.

"Just don't it again."

"You do know it wasn't my fault, right? Right? Sherlock!" John cried out, frowning as he ran after his friend.