Sherlock woke up before anyone else, naturally. He found himself tangled in John's limbs, warm and comfortable. If it weren't for the dire need to stretch he would've stayed there happily. Slowly he untangled himself, removing his arm from under John's head, slipping his leg from in-between Johns, and rolling out underneath the thick coat, leaving it draped over John. Sherlock stood up and quietly made his way out of the cave, where it was still dark out. A few creatures stirred in the forest, waves lapped against the shore and a peaceful early morning breeze drifted through the trees off the water. Sherlock figured that while he's up he should do something useful. His violin was at home and he was bored.

He began digging with his hands in the damp soil on the edge of the forest. By the time the sun began to rise he had a two foot deep hole, about an inch deep of clean water sitting in the bottom and some very dirty hands. The five others wandered out of the cave and noticed Sherlock on the edge. They made their way across the sand and John was the first to speak, hair mussed and clothes wrinkled. "What are you doing?" He asked. Sherlock replied with an eye roll. "Digging for clean groundwater, isn't it obvious." John rolled his eyes back. "Yes, we're all idiots, thank you. Look at your hands, Sherlock, go wash them off." John commanded. "But" Sherlock started but John bent down and put a hand on his shoulder. "Really Sherlock, thank you, but you need to clean them, who knows what's in the soil here."

Sighing, Sherlock complied. Sally thought to herself, one thing left on the list, Get Sherlock and John to hold hands, how the hell am I gonna get that to happen. She pulled Anderson to the side and asked him about it. He said "Well I don't know, John's a doctor, maybe that could be of use." A lightbulb lit behind Sally's eyes. "Philip, I need you to hurt Sherlock physically somehow." Anderson smiled, "How badly?" Donovan smirked, "Not too bad, he needs to be able to recover fast enough." Anderson chuckled and nodded, then proceeded to walk over to the coconut pile. Sherlock was just on his way back from washing his hands when Anderson called to him. "Hey, Sherlock, mind helping me with this? I want to try a different way to crack open a coconut." Sherlock grimaced. "Why me?" Anderson replied in a hushed tone. "You have the steadiest hands, plus you're the smartest and here right now so convenient."

"Actually being an ex-military man John would have the steadiest hands. I shan't burden my time with your idiotic excuse for a good idea." Sherlock scoffed. "C'mon Sherlock you're right here, just once, let me try."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, shrugged and walked over to where Anderson was kneeling in the sand and dropped down to his knees. Droplets of water were still drying on his hands so he avoided putting his hands in the sand. "Okay hold this steady." Anderson handed him the coconut to hold still in the sand. He then found a jagged rock nearby and brought it over. "This is a terrible idea." Sherlock said, but held the coconut anyway. Philip acted taken aback, "nonsense, you're just jealous you didn't come up with the idea." Sherlock scoffed as Anderson lifted the rock above the coconut. "One... Two… three!" He brought the rock down hard but it slipped along the edge of the fruit and cut right along Sherlock's left palm.

Instantly blood started welling up and started to spill, dripping over the edge of his hand and onto the sand. Sherlock just sat there, looking at it, unreadable expression. "Great! Now look what you've done! Your wet hands slipped and now you're bleeding. Doctor! Doctor Watson!" Anderson yelled. John turned at his name and saw Sherlock with his bleeding hand. He ran over and knelt in the sand, followed by everyone else. John brought Sherlock's injured hand closer so he could inspect it, turning it in different light. "What happened?" he said, kind of frustratingly but calm nonetheless. "I was cracking open a coconut with a rock when his hand got in the way." Anderson explained, glaring at Sherlock. John didn't believe him at all, but didn't say anything yet. There were more pressing matters, Sherlock was still silent. "Greg, Molly, can you get some leaves, make sure they're not poisonous. Sally, please take Anderson away and do something useful, stay out of my way." She ignored the venom in his tone and played along, grabbing Philip by the arm and hauling him away. As they walked away Sally winked at Philip.

"Alright, Sherlock, how are you feeling?" John asked calmly. "I'm fine John," he answered, but his voice was quivering. "It's quite deep, and it could get infected. We're going to have to clean it, the salt in the water will kill bacteria." John kept talking. "Okay," Sherlock replied. John pulled Sherlock up by the arm and dragged him to the water's edge. "It's going to sting a bit," John said. "Please, John, my pain tolerance is above average. I'll be fine." John shrugged and dipped Sherlock's hand in the water. Sherlock clenched his teeth and his right hand. "I know it hurts, it's okay, it will be over soon. Squeeze my hand, c'mon," John uncurled Sherlock's hand and clutched it, instantly feeling a strong squeeze. As John cleaned the wound with his free hand, he murmured soothing doctor words. It calmed Sherlock and eventually the pain became bearable. His grip on the doctor's hand loosened and eventually he just held on for comfort.

Molly and Greg brought over some leaves of all different sizes. John nodded a thanks and selected a fairly large one, the size of his own hand. He placed it against Sherlock's wound on his palm and took his hand from Sherlock's grasp to sandwich his injured hand. "I need to keep pressure to fully stop the bleeding. From afar Sally sighed, list complete. A drone appeared from the horizon and with it a box and a letter taped to it. 'G. Lestrade' said the envelope, and he took it, smiling. John and Sherlock were paying no mind to what was happening behind them, only focusing on Sherlock's hand in between John's strong ones, and how warm and comfortable they felt. While Greg and Molly read over the next list, Philip and Sally opened the box. They pulled out a couple cans of spaghetti, a first aid kit and a new pack of four AA batteries. Interesting. Sally took the first aid kit and trotted down to where the boys were kneeling in the damp sand.

"I thought I said to stay away," John huffed. "Yeah well, thought you might want this. Came with the next list." She dropped the small white box with a red cross on it beside John and left without another word. Surprised, John looked back at the cave entrance where Greg and Molly were talking over a piece of paper, presumably the list, and the two officers stocking away their goods in the cave. "Well, okay." He said and gently removed his hands, leaving the other feeling colder. He unlatched the box and sifted through the contents, pulling out antiseptic and bandages. "It might sting again, sorry, it's safer." John put a few drops of the liquid on the cut and Sherlock grabbed his arm and squeezed that instead of the doctor's busy hands. Slowly John wrapped up Sherlock's hand, preserving as much bandage as he could, ripped it off with his teeth and tucked it away. Then he patted his work and Sherlock removed his hand that was clenched around John's forearm.

They headed back to the cave, knees and below soaked. Sherlock and John inspected the new arrivals, discussing how old they were, where they were imported from and such while Molly and Greg devised a plan to complete their one task. On a folded piece of paper was a map of the island and a cliché red X marked somewhere in the deep forest left of the cave. There were few landmarks- the cave, a small clearing above the X and a cartoon tree symbol to the right of the X. A north arrow occupied the upper right corner and a single sentence in fancy cursive lettering lay below the cave where the beach and ocean stood. X marks the spot, set up a party with dancing. A scale was also present in the bottom left corner, about a centimeter equals a kilometer. The X was about 10cm behind and 5cm to the left of the cave.Molly instantly realized that Mycroft's sole purpose for kidnapping all of them was to bring Sherlock and John together. He bloody plucked them like worms from their lives and dropped them on an island, setting up a bloody game and forcing them to drive the two together.

Molly explained this to Greg, who chuckled and said "leave it to the Holmes to do something this crazy." Molly nodded and asked him how they were going to set up a party without raising suspicion. "Let's try finding the place first." So when John suggested they gather more supplies the following morning, they made their attempt.

Sally and Anderson headed off to the right of the cave, which was good. John and Sherlock set up a fire near the water and settled on boiling/filtering water in husked coconut shells to drink. Molly and Greg left to the sound of the men happily chatting and laughing. Smirking at each other, the pair headed off to the left of the cave, along the edge of the beach. After what they thought was around 5km they stopped and rested a bit. It had taken them just short of an hour, and the sun was beating down on them, causing sweat to bead on their foreheads and necks. After admiring the vast view of undisturbed sand, calm blue waters and only the sound of rustling leaves they turned into the jungle and set about their journey. Keeping up a fairly steady pace, they stopped only once to pick a banana each and eat their snack.

After a total of around an hour and a half, Molly suggested they started looking around for anything. They had no idea what this X would entail, it could be anything from a geocache to an entire building. Another hour of searching and coming up with nothing, Lestrade grimly suggested they headed back. Moving through bushes and leaves all day, added to the sweat made for itchy and uncomfortable skin. Lestrade and Molly were hot and glum by the time they reached camp. About 20 half shells were resting in the sand, filled with clean water and they each gulped down two each. It was mid-afternoon and everyone else was out of sight. Lestrade slipped off his shirt, shoes and trousers, revealing navy blue boxers and ran into the water

He cupped the water, in waist high and poured it over his hair and face, rubbing it in and cleaning his skin. Molly didn't seem to mind, and was tempted in her sweaty state to follow his lead. Sherlock and John walked into view from behind the cave, and Anderson and Sally also appeared from the thick trees. John grinned, "Oh that looks refreshing." He said and removed all but boxers as well. He slowly embarked, ankles, knees, waist and torso into the warm water. He sighed in content and began dousing his hair and washing the dirt off his face. Sherlock bit his lip and turned away, flushed. "C'mon Sherlock, the water's nice," John called. Sherlock reluctantly pulled off his shirt, socks and shoes and finally (after glancing at the girls and John) his expensive pants. Dark underpants covered the top of his pale lanky legs. Even from afar Molly could see John looking him up and down.

"What the hell," Anderson shrugged and did the same, and followed Sherlock into the water. The difference was that Sherlock looked like a male model in a swimsuit, walking in slow motion towards the beautiful ocean for an advertisement while Anderson sauntered like a Bigfoot into the lapping water. While the men washed and talked about guy things. Sally shot Molly a curious glance. "Nope, not doing it." Molly said, raising her hands. Sally shrugged, "suit yourself" she said and pulled off her t-shirt and jeans, showing a bright purple bra and matching underwear. As she was walking into the water Anderson whistled, the others didn't pay attention. Greg motioned for Molly to join them, grinning.

Molly was shy, and settled for taking off her shoes, socks and pants, leaving her long yellow shirt to cover the top of her legs. Slowly but surely she descended into the water, making sure her shirt stayed down. Greg smiled and took her hand, then jerked and she tripped, splashing headfirst into the warmth. Lestrade caught her and made sure she was balanced before bursting out in laughter. Droplets of water ran down Molly's face and eyelashes. She wanted to be mad, frustrated at Greg but she couldn't. She found herself laughing along with him, which made him smile even more. A bit ways away John splashed Sherlock in the face, whose curls were already plastered down. He sputtered, "John that was completely uncalled for." John splashed him again and the other blinked, then pushed a wave of water at John.

John fell backwards, being small and unbalanced from the large force. His face went below and Sherlock leapt forward and brought him back up, a hand on John's bare back. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean-" Sherlock stammered. "Sherlock, I'm fine, really I just needed a second, I would've been fine." Sherlock dropped his gaze and hand, stepping back and giving John the opportunity to splash him again. While they had a splash fight, Sally and Anderson were 'wrestling each other' and Greg was talking to Molly.

The sun found its way sinking lower in the sky, and as the air became cooler, the six left the water and air-dried on the beach. Molly found herself enjoying herself, and letting go of her shyness. Turns out John and Sherlock might not be the only ones that will benefit from this experience. By the time they all were relatively dry and dressed, the sun had dipped under the ocean and there was a clear sky of stars, much more than London. John pointed out constellations to Sherlock, who instead of mentioning how useless the knowledge was, found himself smiling and asking questions and complimenting their beauty. John beamed which made Sherlock's heart flutter.

Anderson stoked a fire and heated up a can of spaghetti. John opened it using a sharp rock and military precision and skill. They passed the can around, each taking a bite. The food felt really good, especially considering for the past two days all they ate were bananas and coconuts.

The group didn't bother to retire into the cave, instead they lay down in the soft sand with the same pairs as the night before. They found that they didn't mind the arrangement. Laying on their backs, head resting on their hands folded behind, the six fell asleep under the night sky, a cool breeze lulling them.

Although Mycroft didn't enjoy seeing people injure his brother and get away with it, the task was achieved and it worked in his favor so he let it pass without giving Anderson the plague or something. "Day two and three were successful," Mycroft grinned to a smiling Mrs. Hudson, who was resting on his plush couch.