Flamboyance Is My Middle Name.

Sherlock's Letter and Seating Arrangements.

" Dearest Tyler,
Now I could apologize and excuse myself for writing back so late. If you would just give me your number, but no matter. Writing back to you is a past time, John prefers it over shooting the face on the wall in the flat.
Lot of cases have been coming out lately. I need your hand in this particular case you see, I need someone with a higher IQ level.
Normally I can get a deduction, some research and the case is solved..but this most recent. The pattern of the blood doesn't seem to make sense to me. Rather than fooling around with a bunch of brainless babbling monkeys, I much rather would have you. Your passport and ticket are in the envelope as well.
John and I will meet you once you arrive here.
Until nine hours, with affection
- Sherlock. "

Shaking his head, Tyler let out a small chuckle. " Of course... I have no say in the predicament."
Humming a tune the pink and brown haired male dugout his flight information. Green eyes gazingover to the clock on the wall.

12 : 35
....
The flight was to depart at one fifteen.

" DAMN IT ALL TO HELL! "

After rushing to pack all of his necessities, Tyler carelessly threw his bags into the back of his blue Prius.

Ending the the wonderful journey of ID and bag checks, the rainbow prodigy made to boarding just in time.
With a huff the green eyed homicide detective pulled out the seating ticket.

' Dear god, please give me the window. Sherlock if you gave me that bloody spot I will- '

" Kill you with fire."
His last thought became said out loud.
The man's nightmare of plane flights came true...he had the middle seat.
Oh how he loathed that dreadful spot on the metal bird.

" outta tha way!"
A gruff voice grunted as a rather large male shoved Tyler. His forehead hitting the bottom of the storage compartments in the plane.
Eyeing the pudgy gruff male, the young detective narrowed his eyes. Watching the filthy monkey sit in " his " seat, deathly thoughts pledged his mind.
Straightening his poster an adjusting his clothes Tyler confronted the chubby fellow.

" now excuse me sir, but that poor seat you have maliciously placed your rear on is my spot."
Turning to glare at the colorful dressed twisty five year old, the rude man grunted.
" YOUR SPOT?! Heh that's not what the ticket says bub."
To back up his argument the man had pulled out his ticket and waved it in the others' face.

Frowning ever so slightly in Englishman, "tsked."

" that may be, but wouldn't be easier for you? You wouldn't have to call the fire department to pull you out of the row every time your urinary track decides to do a test run. I'm afraid your bladder isn't as big as your stomach."

Red faced, the southern man stood up. Snarling the lived man raised his fist, Tyler rearing his own fist back in response.

" Sirs! Please take your seats we are about to prepare for flight."
Taring away from one another's gaze the two spotted the young frightened flight attendant.
Quickly changing his demeanor, Tyler gave a shy yet charming smile.
" of yes sorry love, there just seems to be a mix up with seating arrangements."
This earning a glare from the angry pudgy man beside him.
Raising a brow the attendant named, Brenda kindly asked to see their tickets.

" I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but Mr. Bennett seems to have seat 6B-"

" ha! I'm keepin' mah seat pretty boy!"
With a triumphed smirk, Mr. Bennett snatched his ticket and sat down next to the window.
Growling at the older, fatter male, Tyler curtly thanked the woman, reclaiming his ticket and disdainfully sat down.
A fowl frown itched itself upon the analyst's face. Sinking in his seat with crossed arms, Steam seemed to be blowing from his ears. The twenty five year old thought about, "fifty shades of death," to bring upon the jolly fat oaf next to him.

* Ding...*

Quickly pulling out his phone Tyler saw his new txt and smiled. All the anger and thoughts of death to come to his seating aquatint vanished.

" I'm on brake, want to grab something for lunch?"
- DM

Tyler readied to type his response with a happy, ecstatic, " yes!" Sadly he then remembered his current situation.

"Sorry Dex... I'm actually on my way back to London. I'm in the plane now ready for flight as we speak."
- TP

Thus the conversation began...

" London?! WHY? You were going back, leaving me without even telling me, much alone saying, " goodbye?!" "
-DM

" N-No DEX! I would never do that to you, why would you think that?!
It's just for a small job, sherlock needs me in London for a case.
You know I would much rather be with you having lunch than stuck in this fowl chair."
- TP

" THEN GET YOUR ASS OFF THE PLANE AND OVER HERE WITH ME FOR LUNCH!
SHERLOCK, THE MAN WHO MAILED YOU?!
FORGET IT! I'M MORE IMPORTANT TO YOU! YOU'RE MINE! NOT HIS!
GET YOUR BUTTERFLY CHASIN' ASS OVER HEAR NOW!"
- DM
...

Letting out a sigh, Tyler sent his final text before shutting off his phone. As much as he would much rather spend time with...well now the angered Dex he knew. He had to go to London, not just to help Sherlock, but to return and reunite with his home.

" I'm truly sorry Dex, but I need to help him. Besides you should now, when a job opportunity comes along I can't stay out of it. I can't let him do this by himself... Besides I've been dying to play with some blood for a while now. See you whenever I come back. <3 xoxo."
- TP

Feeling the familiar jolting of the plain beginning to move, slightly heavy eyelids closed. All that was left now was to wait until four hours pasted.
" London, here I come."

.....

Letting out a furious yell, Dexter slammed his phone down on the counter.
" Sherlock huh? I have I hunch this...sherlock~ is going to be quite the problem. Just one letter has my Toy on his way to London, England." Glaring up at the ceiling, the schizoid personality disordered man finally came to a conclusion.

" heh....I've always wanted to visit London."