Emma stood behind the counter of the Central London Flower Shop and checked her watch. The boys were late. She sighed and looked at the white lilies beside her. Those were at her mother's funeral. She quickly turned away, not wanting to remember anything about her mother's funeral. She could easily hide her sadness, but it would slowly eat her from the inside out until she was a crumpled piece of paper that had missed the garbage can and was forgotten on the dirty floor. Weak, invisible, not cared about. It was much easier to look away, anyways.

She instead looked at the blue tulips that were in baskets in front of the window. Their petals were shining from the sun outside the window, looking absolutely beautiful. Then they stopped shining. Then she looked up.

"2 minutes and 17 seconds late!" she proclaimed as the three men walked in.

"Beautiful shop you have here", Mycroft remarked, completely ignoring her.

"Yeah, yeah, completely", Lestrade joined in, keeping the subject away from the being late.

"Emma", John spoke, actually noticing what she said. "It was two minutes.'

Emma put her hands up in surrender and walked to the front of the shop. She flipped the sign saying that the shop was now closed.

"I know, I know", she turned back around to face them. "I'm overreacting. I'm sorry."

She scanned the room, looking at the aray of flowers and forgetting about the boys for a minute. The shop had many flowers, it seemed like all flowers to anyone who wasn't educated. They had anything from aethionema iberdium to zantedeschia rehmanii. Basically any colour, any shape, any occasion. At least that's what it said on the front window.

"So", she looked at the men again. "Find anything?"

John sat on the counter of the shop, while Lestrade took a basket off a bench and put it on the ground so he could sit, and Mycroft leaned on his umbrella.

John looked at Lestrade and Mycroft until he realized that he would speak first. "I saw a man in a shop. Though, he was crazy, not strange. That's pretty much all. I mean, it has only been a day."

Lestrade looked up from the flowers that was in the bucket at his feet and spoke, "Barny Bobbo, not even sure if that's his real name. A clown, sort of. I don't know. The whole situation was just... strange." Emma could tell he didn't want to talk about it. He looked back down at the flowers and shuddered.

"Okay..." she spoke, waiting for Mycroft.

"No one. Not one person that was strange. That is, of course, because one person's view of what is and what is not strange is different from another person's. Which is why, from the very beginning, I didn't even look."

John and Lestrade looked very confused as Emma started applauding Mycroft. "I knew you would pay attention", she smiled. "I told you to do that because what I asked you to do was a bit strange as was, even when solving a case, and wanted to see who would notice."

"And why?" Lestrade asked.

Emma laughed. "Because I lied."

John eyes her as though she was crazy. "You lied because...?" he inquired.

Emma looked around the room, wide eyed. "Seriously? Even you, Mycroft?"

Mycroft responded with a scoff.

"Fine, if I have to explain, I'll explain." She walked from the door to where John was sitting and sat down beside him. "I wanted to see who was paying attention. Who really cared. Mycroft almost got it. Almost. Sherlock only knew because I told him. If I hadn't he probably wouldn't have figured it out."

Mycroft smiled at what she said. His brother not figuring something out? Typical.

"Don't pride yourself, Mycroft. Like I said, almost. And, anyways, if I were to get you guys to look for people who are strange, I would've gotten you to look into business offices. That's where all the people were murdered. Their colleagues called them strange, but their friends and family didn't."

Lestrade and John looked like they had completely got it, but Emma just wanted to make it clear for all of you at home.

"I lied because I wanted to see who was observing."

"Well", Mycroft spoke up. "I was." He paused, preparing himself for his next few words. "I didn't get it. You're quite a fooler."

"Yeah", John started. "How do you do that?"

Emma walked towards the door while speaking. "You just make a story." Step. "Stick with it." Step. "And prepare to do whatever you have to." She flipped the sign so that it said open again, and looked back towards the boys. "That is all. Thanks."