John was out again. Only this time he had gone to buy milk after Sherlock constantly pestering him for some because he needed it for an experiment to test if the milk actually came from a crocodile platypus.

"Yes, John, I know what I'm doing," he had told him, tuning his violin for his next new hit number. "I'm a professional."

And John had left, leaving Sherlock with the flat to himself.

John would be back in less than an hour, he thought to himself as he held the phone to his ear, nervously playing with a lock of his hair and chewing chewing gum as he waited on his bff to answer. He hated having to be so secretive, but it was the only way.

Within a couple of minutes, Anderson broke through the window with a sledge hammer and climbed through, stepping onto the broken pieces of glass and wiping the sweat from his sweaty forehead.

"The door was open." Sherlock informed him, though he had to admit, Anderson breaking into his flat was very... sexy. And as he was so hot, the glass simply melted under his feet as he embraced Sherlock in a cock wrestle and pinned him down on the desk, using his magic and shit to get some whipped cream from mid air and cream the detective's sensitive weiner.

Anderson licked the cream away as Sherlock moaned, then he grabbed the bottle of whipped cream again and stuck the end of it up the detective's dragon's den and let the cream fill him up whole until it was foaming out of Sherlock's mouth.

But oh no! What they didn't know, was that John was on his way upstairs. Dramatic music started playing in the background as he got closer and closer, and once he spotted Sherlock and Anderson, the bag of milk fell in slow motion (like in those dramatic movies where they find their one true love cheating) and splattered all over their carpet.

"John!" Sherlock gasped and spun round. "It's not what it looks like."

Anderson pretended to check the watch that wasn't actually on his wrist, but he was imagining there was one and tricking everyone so that they believed there was one. Then he grabbed the sledge hammer and broke through the next window before climbing out and disappearing.

"I have something to tell you, John." Sherlock stood up and crossed the space between himself and the doctor as Anderson fled into the sunset, escaping yet another crime scene.

"Wh-What is it?" John asked, perking his lips slightly as he waited expectantly for what was to come next.

"I'm not really who you think I am. Everything's been a lie."

"Go on." John leaned closer and waited in growing anticipation.

"I'll show you."

Sherlock moved closer and with one swift movement, a hand reached up to his hair and tugged on it. Off came a wig, and in Sherlock's place, stood Miley Cyrus.

The secret was out.