A/N: So... this is it... this is the end. *cries* It has been a wonderful, two week long journey! Thank you all for reading and reviewing.

Someone requested that I explain how Sherlock knew who the kidnapper was... I wish I could, but I honestly don't know how he knows. He is just a genius and saw a scuff mark on a bench or something XD

I just realized that this is the first multi-chapter fanfiction that I have ever completed... XD YAY.

I have other stories in progress, so if any of you like Merlin, Harry Potter, or Ranger's Apprentice, I encourage you to check it out.

Again, thank you so much for reading. Live long and prosper, my dear reader. Until next time!

Chapter 5

"I am not going back there," Sherlock snapped, glaring at John as the cab pulled out of the hotel parking lot.

John glanced at the consulting detective, a smile slowly growing on his face. "You have no say in the matter," he responded, his flatmate sending him another death glare.

The rest of the ride was silent, Sherlock pouting with his arms folded over his chest. They arrived at the park and John pulled Sherlock excitedly out of the car, telling the cabbie to keep the change.

Myra was waiting for them a small smile on her face. "We caught the kidnapper and found all of the children," she commented. "It was quite easy actually. Thank you, Sherlock."

Sherlock just raised an eyebrow mockingly.

"He means you're welcome," John said, nudging his friend with an elbow.

"You're... welcome," Sherlock said slowly.

Myra let out a bark of laughter. "You are very much like your brother," she commented before turning to John. "You have one more day free in the park, but your plane leaves at midnight. The car will be back to pick you up at ten. Enjoy yourselves."

John dragged Sherlock through the park excitedly. "Where do you want to go first?" he asked eagerly. "I think we should go back to the Magic Kingdom! I want you to try the teacup ride!"

Sherlock stared at John for a moment. "Won't I experience motion sickness?" he asked as they boarded the ferry.

"Sherlock, five-year-olds can handle that ride. You don't even go very fast." John was practically bouncing with excitement as the boat began to come close to shore.

When the ferry pulled into the dock, John grinned at Sherlock. "Let's go!"

Sherlock followed John slowly, walking with him through the crowd. He led him over to the teacups, placing them in the back of the line.

Sherlock studied the ride skeptically, taking in the oversized, brightly colored, plastic tea cups, resting in their giant saucers. The line moved quickly, and John led Sherlock to a pink teacup with a grin.

Sherlock tried to pull away from John's grip on his shoulder, but he wasn't quick enough. John grinned and closed the little door on the side of the teacup. Sherlock stared at the wheel in the center of the teacup as if it were a foreign object.

"You spin the wheel and the cup spins in the saucer," John commented, seeing the look on Sherlock's face.

Sherlock sat down next to John, his knees pressed uncomfortably to his chest in the tight space. He placed his hands on the wheel, glancing up at his flatmate, who had pulled out a camera.

"Say cheese, Sherlock," John said.

Sherlock reached out a hand to bat the camera out of John's hand, but the ride suddenly spun to life, making Sherlock clutch the wheel to stabilize himself. Sherlock's stomach jerked, but after a moment, he realized they weren't going fast.

"Come on, Sherlock," John said. "Spin the bloody wheel."

"This is stupid, John," Sherlock snapped. John grinned and held up the camera, snapping another picture before stashing the camera away in his pocket.

"This is no fun," John replied. "Think of it as an experiment, Sherlock. You have to experience the stimuli of a normal child in order to fully understand how they function."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and spun the wheel experimentally, the world slowly turning in a circle. John grinned, nodding his head at the consulting detective.

He spun the wheel again, and this time, they whirled around faster. John grabbed the side of the teacup, feeling as if he were going to be thrown from his seat by the force of the spin.

"Woah, Sherlock! Stop! I'm going to fly out!"

Sherlock looked at his flatmate and stopped spinning the wheel, a flash of confusion on his face. "That is not possible. The centrifugal force will hold you inside of the teacup."

"Leave it up to you to make a science lesson out of a kids' ride," John muttered as the ride slowed to a stop. They both got out, making their way through the crowd of children.

John glanced around, wondering what he was going to make Sherlock do next. His eyes landed on a figure in the distance.

"Oh my god," John said. "Sherlock, lets go meet Cinderella!"

"Who is Cinderella?" Sherlock asked and John spun around incredulously.

"WHAT?" he asked. Sherlock glared at him.

"It must not be important, as I seemed to have deleted it. Is she some sort of celebrity?" Sherlock asked and John face-palmed.

"God," he muttered. "Come with me!"

He made his way through the people, walking over to Cinderella. "Hello," John said, pushing Sherlock in front of him. "My friend would love to meet you." He then immediately pulled out his camera, snapping more photos than he could count.

"Hello, handsome sir. My name is Cinderella. What is your name?" she asked, her voice sweet.

"That isn't your name," Sherlock immediately said. John shushed him quickly and Cinderella smiled at him.

"What a sense of humor your friend has," she commented.

"His name is Sherlock," John said. "Oh! Can we take a group shot?" John turned to a woman who was standing next to him. "Would you mind taking a photo of my friend and I?"

The woman nodded yes, and John thanked her, standing next to Cinderella.

"Smile, Sherlock," John said, grinning. Sherlock just rolled his eyes.

"One more, please," John asked. "Smile, Sherlock."

Sherlock finally smiled, and the lady snapped the picture. "Bye, Cinderella," John said, and, after accepting his camera back, he pulled Sherlock away.

"Those are so going on the blog," John said, grinning.

"No!" Sherlock snapped. "I have been humiliated enough as it is! And that woman lied. She isn't Cinderella. And she is definitely not a princess, so I have no idea why she was wearing a crown. She is a 25 year old actor who has always dreamed of being on broadway. Her name is..."

"Sherlock, stop it!" John said.

"Why? I could tell by the..." Sherlock began.

"Just don't. You're ruining the image for some of the children. She is acting like Cinderella to make it more... real," John commented, checking the time on his cell. "It's twelve now. Let's go find lunch and then another ride. Or maybe another princess!"

Sherlock followed John into a nearby food court, John stepping to the back of the line to order. "What do you want? How about we just order a pizza?"

"Fine," Sherlock said, not paying attention to his flatmate at all. He was too busy trying to guess the professions of the occupants in the room.

"One pepperoni pizza... and two chocolate ice cream cones please," John said, pulling out his wallet. He hastily paid for the meal, and they both stood off to the side, waiting as their food was cooked. Twenty minutes later, they were both sitting at a small table in the corner, a large pizza in between them.

John handed a cone to Sherlock. "I don't want it," Sherlock said, trying to hand the cone back.

"No, Sherlock! You have to eat it! Everyone likes ice cream," John said. "I paid good money for that! Emptied out my wallet! The food here is expensive."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and licked the ice cream. Again, John pulled out his camera, snapping a picture of the consulting detective.

Sherlock sighed in annoyance. "Will taking photos of me ever bore you?"

"Nope," John said, grinning. This was turning out to be a great case, he thought as he bit into a slice of pizza.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"We have just enough time to watch the fireworks before we leave," John said excitedly. Sherlock didn't respond, following his flatmate to a bench from where they could watch the clear, black sky fill with sparkling color.

The first firework was a bright, blue explosion of sparks, sending a noise like a gunshot through the warm air. John was again snapping pictures of the sky.

"Sherlock, stand up. I want to take a picture of the fireworks and castle behind you," John said, pushing the consulting detective to his feet. Sherlock stood awkwardly, and John clicked the button.

"You're good," John said, and Sherlock sat back down on the bench. A purple firework lit up the sky, making them both blink.

"A mix of Strontium and Copper compounds," Sherlock said unconsciously. John stared at Sherlock for a moment.

"You know what that is made out of?" he asked and Sherlock nodded.

"It's easy. Every color is produced from different chemical mixtures." As he said this, red sparks filled the air. "The red is produced by Strontium and Lithium salts."

"What about the gold?" John asked.

"That would be iron with carbon, charcoal, or lampblack," Sherlock responded.

Sherlock spent the rest of their remaining hour shooting off chemical names as they watched the colors fill the sky.

John looked down at his watch and stood. "We have to go... the car will be waiting,"he said and Sherlock nodded. As they began walking, the grand finale began, sending loud booms across the park.

Sherlock glanced sideways at his flatmate. Although he would never admit it aloud, he had enjoyed the day traipsing the park.

"Thank you," Sherlock blurted, unsure of how to express how he felt and John resisted the urge to spin around in surprise.

"You're welcome, Sherlock."

They both walked out of the park and the fireworks ended, shrouding the night in darkness once more.

The End