6th April 2011, 10:43 A.M.

Little Lever Street, Manchester.

"Action!"

The crowd slowly parted, and the camera focused on Sherlock, and slowly, Watson walked over to him and passed a conical paper bag of chips, "Here you are. Why that certain fish and chips store," Watson glanced back at the supposed store, "I don't understand."

Holmes took a chip, and while chewing, he replied, "Well, there's a particular beer they use in the batter. A northern stout, to be exact."

"You know, Holmes," Watson began to say as they walked through the crowded street, "I've seen things in war I don't understand. In India, I once met a man who predicted his own death right down to the number and placement of the bullets that killed him."

Watson was walking at the front, and Sherlock was following him.

The camera was at the other end of the crowded street, focused on the two.

Watson looked at his walking stick, placing it carefully on the uneven, dirty road as he continued, "You have to admit. Holmes, that a supernatural explanation to this case is theoretically possible."

By now, they had arrived at the end of the street, as Sherlock replied, "Well, agreed. But, it is a huge mistake to theorize before one has data." Sherlock stopped and stared at Watson; he added, "Inevitably, one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts."

One might notice in this scene that both Sherlock and Watson are much taller than anyone else. This is because they are now standing on about 1 feet high platform and are also wearing quite brighter clothes compared to the rest on the street. This helps them get into the focus of the camera and makes it much easier for the audience to focus on the two main characters.

They resumed walking, taking a turn to the next street.

"That said, I believe Adler's midget is the key to this." Sherlock continued to speak and showed something held in his fingers to Watson. It was a hand clock.

He raised it infront of his face and continued to examine it.

"Right. Scratches around the keyhole where the watch is wound. What does that tell you?"

Watson replied, "The man was likely a drunk. Every time he wound the watch, his hand slipped, hence the scratches."

"Verrry good, Watson." Sherlock put down the watch, "You have developed considerable deductive power of your own. Hm." Sherlock brought the clock closer to himself, and staring at it; he added, "Let's see now. There are several sets of initial scored–"

"Pawnbrokers Mark." Watson interrupted.

"Excellent." Sherlock replied without removing his gaze from the watch and added, "Most recent of which was M.H.'," Sherlock squinted his eyes and paused, "M.H. M.H. is for…?"

Watson continued to walk forward, and he paused; Sherlock also raised his head.

The camera was now behind them, and it recorded as they raised their heads and spoke in unison while staring at a shop sign.

"Maddison and Haig."

The camera at the front was now rolling.

They glanced at each other for a moment, with Watson smiling lightly.

It turns out Sherlock had already figured out everything, and they were walking to this shop all along.

Sherlock put the watch down while saying, "They should be able to give us some address."

With a slight smile on his face, Watson watched Sherlock head into the store.

Looking at the road for a moment, he raised his head again and stared at the back of walking Sherlock holmes.

"What a coincidence."

The camera from behind was rolling as Watson stepped up and followed Sherlock.

In front of him, Sherlock paused his steps, he had his hands in his pocket, and walked backwards as Watson began to say, "One thing you failed to deduce from the watch, Holmes."

"Really? I think not." Holmes replied in a matter of factly voice.

They were now stepping into the shop, which actually turned out to be another crowded alleyway, with few women standing on the side, and kids playing.

"The time." Watson added emphasis on his voice, "I have to get back, Holmes."

"Hm. Taking tea with the in-laws." Holmes replied with indifference.

Before Watson could respond, however, a woman in rags, held a smoke pipe, suddenly interrupted them and walked forward, "Reckon you future, Sir?"

"Absolutely not," Sherlock replied without pausing his steps and continued to walk.

"No, thank you, Ma'am," Watson said.

The woman, a fortune-teller, pointed at them while saying, "You will have to hear what I have to tell."

Sherlock continued to walk, and without turning back, with his face slightly tilted to the right, he replied, "We have no need," He turned sideways while continued, "of your lucky heather, gipsy woman."

The camera was once again at the corner in front of them.

Watson just shook his head as he continued to walk.

Just then, the woman walked forward, while Sherlock had paused his steps, and she said, "Even if it's to do with Mary?" She pursed her lips and put the smoke-pipe in her lips while turning her attention towards Watson.

Sherlock, too, turned his head towards Watson.

Mary was Watson's fiance.

Watson paused, now a slight frown forming on his face. He was standing mere inches away from the camera, the confusion and surprise on his face after hearing the woman's last words were rightly captured.

The woman walked up, now a little smug, taking one long step, and she was slowly beside Watson.

Watson turned around, but before he could say anything, the fortune-teller woman took his hand and stared at his palm with a frown on her face.

"Oh. Oh. I see two men. Brothers. Not in blood. But in Bond."

Watson glanced at Sherlock, who was staring at the fortune-teller.

"What of Mary?" Watson asked the fortune-teller.

"M for Mary, for marriage." In a surprised tone and expression, the fortune-teller added, "Oh, you will be married."

Watson nodded his head, "Go on."

"Oh." The fortune-teller frowned again while staring at the former's palms, "I see patterned tablecloths and, oh, china figurines."

The camera captured Sherlock raising his head and narrowing his eyes.

"..and, oh, lace doilies," The fortune teller said in a grimacing tone.

"Hm. Doilies." Sherlock repeated while staring at an unknown place. As if lost in his thoughts.

"Lace doilies." Watson put away his hand while turning his head towards Sherlock, having suddenly realized that Sherlock must have paid this woman to rip him off, "Holmes? Does your depravity know no boundaries?"

"No," Sherlock said without looking at him, still staring at something in front of him.

"Oh, she turns fat." The fortune-teller added in another grimaced tone, and with a disgusted expression while imitating as if she was touching a long beard, she added, "And oh, now she has a beard!"

"What of the warts?" Sherlock asked, looking straight.

"Oh, she's covered in warts!" The fortune-teller added, her weirdly frowning face showing clear signs of 'scam' and disgust.

"Enough," Watson said.

"Are they extensive?" Holmes emphasized, his voice now a bit louder.

"Please, enough." Watson topped the former's voice.

Sherlock walked forward while staring at Watson, as the fortune-teller too stared at the latter with a deep frown on her face while puffing the smoke pipe.

"It's the most pt prediction Flora has made in years," Sherlock said, "And precisely the reason why you can't find a suitable ring."

"Do you have my money?" Watson asked, now a bit irked.

"You are terrified of life without the thrill of macabre," Sherlock said.

"Do you have my cut from the fight?" Watson wasn't having any jokes as he was straight right at Sherlock.

Two cameras were closely capturing each of their expressions and actions, from light squinting of eyes to the outbursts of the words.

"Admit it," Sherlock said.

"Give me my money!" Watson said.

Both of them were adamant on their own.

"Give me my money!"

"Admit it!"

Both shouted, and Watson pursed his lips, "Holmes."

Sherlock looked into his eyes and noticed the former was smiling.

He turned around and noticed a shop with a poster.

[Madison & Haig. Large Selection Of Ring For Every Wallet.]

"I see," Holmes whispered.

Holmes turned around and took out two receipts of paper from the pocket of his coat.

Watson took one, "Thank you."

Without saying anything else, he went inside the shop.

***

"Cut!"

Will said, and Anthony beside him smiled as the scene ended. He walked to Jeffrey and watched the scene on the camera.

The scene had come out great, and there would be no need for another take.

"Will, want another take?"

Levi asked, and Will laughed while waving his hands.

"No, it's perfect. Good job, everyone! Let's take a 10-minute break and get to the next scene."

Everyone cheered hearing that, and Levi walked back to his agent. On the other hand, Robert walked up to him.

"Will, are we really shooting the fight scene tomorrow?"

"Yeah, why? You are not confident?"

The fight scene Robert was talking about was one that had happened at the beginning of the movie. It was one of the coolest scenes in the movie and portrayed an image of Holmes that could stand up for himself even while fighting.

This was the last important scene before they could move to the ending.

"No, I'm confident. In fact, I'm even beginning to like wing Chun a lot. I'm asking so I can prepare for the fight scene, and I actually have a request."

"What request?"

"I want to do the fight scene myself like a real fight?"

Will's eyes widened hearing that. They had called on a ferocious-looking boxer to shoot the fight scene, and it was already commendable enough that Robert was doing all his stunts himself.

But this request was too extreme.

"No, I can't do that, Robert. What if you got a serious injury? The whole shooting will stall."

"I already talked about it with Master Lan, and he said I will be okay. In the first place, we would be following a script, and just the punches and kicks would be real."

For the record, Master Lan was the martial artist that was training Robert.

"Still, an actor's face is the most important thing for him. It won't be ideal if you get any facial injuries as we still have the ending left."

"Makeup would handle that."

Will was at a loss of words hearing that. What Robert was saying would surely elevate the level of the movie a lot.

It would be as iconic as Heath Ledger asking Christan Bale to punch him in the interrogation scene in [The Dark Knight].

'What should I do?'

Will pondered on it.

As a director, he was happy that Robert was being proactive in his role and was even trying to break the barriers in acting. At the same time, he was scared that he might ruin his face in the fight scene and would take a few weeks to recover.

'This might actually help his career, though. The media would love this if it came out.'

Will suddenly thought of that.

Compared to his alternate life self, he was not famous and had no background to elevate the movie's status. So, a crazy thing like this might actually help the movie's publicity.

After all, both the media and the film fraternity love actors who go to every length for their movies.

That's why, in the end, he eventually agreed.

"Okay, let's do it like that."