AN: I totally found out about this recently and it bit my brain... so check out GlamLock and Sussex Vampires on tumblr if ya want more.

"Right, here we are Johnny boy," Lestrade leads him into the large warehouse space.

The floors where covered haphazardly with rugs and instruments where tossed about everywhere, as the manger told him this was the practice and recording area. Next to that where some more bohemian style sofas and chairs that matched the rugs. There draped over the sofa was the long form of his new band mate.

"Sherlock get up," Lestrade prods with no response, "I know you aren't sleepin… come meet your new band mate."

"What's the point…" the man drawls darkly as he remains immobile, "He'll just be off soon anyway."

"I'm here ain't I?" John challenges, not liking be talked about as if he wasn't there.

"Give the bloke a chance…" the manager smirks, "Sherlock Holmes meet Johnny Lazers the new bassist… Before you start giving me shite," Lestrade pauses, "Mickey recommended him ya..."

"Stamford…" Sherlock's pale eyes finally opening to settle upon the ne musician in their mists, he hops up and openly appraises John with a critical eye; starting from his boots up his tight trousers to the bare torso under his vest and the instrument on his back. Without a word, he opens the vest fully causing John to squirm a bit under the sharp scrutiny. "You're quite a Hodgepodge," he hums, "How'd you get this?"

"A gig," he nods, standing his ground, "Some joker was pissed off his arse tossing bottles about, finished the whole gig though…"

"Well you're certainly dedicated…" he snatches something off the table and starts to trace the jagged lines of the scar. John doesn't flitch, knowing this was probably some sort of test as he watches the man concentrating on his task. "Let's see if you can keep up, Johnny," he smirks nodding approvingly at his handy work before sauntering of to the practice area.

Looking down at his shoulder, he sees bright pink outlining the starburst like edges of the old wound with a J scrawled in the middle like a badge.

"I think he likes you," A woman's voice breathes beside him.

"Is he always like that?" John wonders aloud.

"Usually," She smirks, "You'll be shagging in no time."

"Ignore her," Lestrade rolls his eyes tiredly, "Ia this Johnny Lazers," he introduces them, "Johnny this is the woman, or Ia."

"Let's see what ya got then," Ia smirks skipping off to the kit, pulling her drum sticks out from the back of her blood red shorts.

They get set up, Johnny only mildly nervous at just what the beautiful mad man will pull out of his sleeve; or lack there off really. This is a test that he needs to pass, prove he's not a nobody and finally share his love and passion for music. Sherlock starts off with some slow easy numbers, John keeping up perfectly; then with a quick glance at the bassist and a smirk Sherlock bursts off into a musical interlude.

John doesn't even remember seeing the man pick up the electric Violin, but it's enthralling the notes he can coax out of it. Closing his eyes, he listens and just lets the music flow out of him to join with the punishing speed of the violin next to him. Time seems to fade away as the music takes over and before anyone knows what happened they finished a set.

"Bloody brilliant," Lestrade claps enthusiastically.

"Wow," a young girl sighs next to him.

Opening his eyes as he comes back to reality, John finds Sherlock once again watching him with enigmatic curiosity. "I think you suit us…" the dark haired man offers.

"Yea down to the fucking ground," The woman boasts from behind the drum kit. "Well done Johnny."

"Brilliant," he nods, finding the whole thing a bit surreal as he grins like a mad man.

The band disperses as Lestrade whisks him off to meet the costume and make-up girl, who was apparently the same girl he saw earlier. Molly fits him out with various trouser and boot options for gigs, they move onto make-up when Sherlock strides in.

"Oh, um… hullo Sherlock," Molly squeaks nervously, "Just getting Johnny's look sorted, nothing too flashy like yours course… not that yours is or…anything," she shakes her head in embarrassment.

"Run along Molly, I'll take it from here," he dismisses her with hardly a glance.

"Oh, right ok," She nods picking up her kit before exciting the room.

"She fancies you," John informs him with a smirk.

"She's boring…" he scoffs, sitting next to him and perusing the color options.

"More of the rough and tumble type, are ya…" he hums, toying with his hair in the mirror.

"More like married to the music," Sherlock corrects, pulling out the blue he was looking for, "Let's make you the proper soldier then, just like daddy wanted." He smears a line across each of John's cheeks. "Well not exactly," he smirks, placing glitter over top.

"How…" he manages, trying to figure out how he knew that.

"I'm good at reading people, noticing things," he shrugs, "You also have a sister."

"Spot on," John smiles openly.

"I think you should paint around your scar more often," he traces a pale finger around the pink from earlier, leaving a blue smudge in its wake. "Draw attention to it…you're quite proud of it, I can tell."

"I like to think of it as a battle scar of sorts, got it in the trenches more ways than one, ya know." He shrugs.

The weeks after he was brought into the group fly by, the group writing and practicing songs at top speed in order to get a record out for the approaching tour. John and Sherlock spend every waking, and sleeping, moment together; staying up writing songs until they pass out, or John passes out. Sherlock doesn't sleep much, his mind buzzing with music both written and unwritten. It's an odd thing considering how comfortable they are with one another so quickly, especially given that others in John's position hadn't lasted half as long.

Though John was always told he had a lot of patience, a temper too; but patience none the less. He figured he just knew how to handle the genius, probably didn't hurt that the bloke seemed to like him. They had done a couple small gigs but they had a larger booking set as a sort of precursor to the tour, a practice run. The anticipation was electric, and the group was thrumming with energy in the dressing room.

John was wearing the new trousers Molly made up for him in a sort of silver, gold, and bronze metallic camouflage pattern with matching boots. She even took a boa feather from Sherlock's costume and made a long earring of sorts for him; it was purple and matched the paint he had put around his scar. The lines on his face where done in gold, and he had fabric bits tied around his wrists.

Sherlock's costume consisted of a black purple shiny trouser with a matching sleeveless jacket that came to his thighs that had a purple boa trim and framed his exposed chest. He also had a fishnet arm band on one arm and a fingerless glove on the other. There was a small star panted under his left eye and his right was coloured purple with black rhinestone out lining it jaggedly.

Ia's costume was practically transparent, in sheer material and a nude pink tone. She had billowy sleeves that where tight around her wrist and a bright blue belt under the plunging neckline. The long garment was open below the belt to reveal her bare stomach and super short silver shorts. Her lips panted the colour of blood and a heart on her somewhat exposed him in the same collar.

"Almost time boys," Lestrade pops his head in, knowing the woman doesn't care if she's one of the boys.

"This is ridiculous," Sherlock pouts, "Why don't we just start the tour, there's no point in this."

"Sherlock really," he sighs tiredly, "It's just to make sure we're prepared."

"No, it's to make sure Johnny can handle the showmanship of a large scale performance, he's already proved adequate so this is a waste of time."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," John huffs.

"You know what I mean…" Sherlock rolls his eyes, "You can at least tolerate me, so there's no point in finding someone else."

"Fuck you," he glares exiting the dressing room.

"Sherlock what's the matter with you!" Lestrade rounds on him, "You better hope he didn't pop out for good, you idiot." He leaves to chase after his bassist.

"He'll be back, he's a man of obligations," Sherlock intones, flippantly.

"You better watch yourself, this aloof diva act may fool your idiot fans; but we're privy to the real you Sher, so grow the fuck up." She states pleasantly before heading off to the stage.

As predicted Johnny is there, Lestrade sending threatening looks at Sherlock telling him not to fuck this up. The show starts and they light up the stages; it is clear Johnny's still a bit miffed about earlier, but it all pours into the music. The two men playing off each other and daring one another as they move about the stage; at one point Sherlock's behind John singing his heart out as they move together, his arm around Johnny's throat as the bassist throws his head back lost in what he's playing. With a harsh stroke on the instrument he reaches up and behind, yanking on side of trim off Sherlock's costume as he strolls away to play on.

After the show everyone's floored, by the performance. "That was the best show yet, my god," Lestrade praises as they stampede down the hallway to the dressing room, various people calling out good show as they walk by. "I wouldn't be surprised if Mycroft calls on this one, it was bloody electric," he adds once they're back in the more quite dressing room.

"I thought the pair of ya were going to just have off right in front of me," She smirks mischievously as she lays on the couch to undo her thigh high boots, "Not that I'd mind…" she adds with a wink.

"I thought birds where more your area," Sherlock questions bluntly, starring at his reflection in the mirror.

"You're my area, darling," she chuckles, blowing him a kiss from the couch.

"It's just a game," he states, his eyes finding John's in the mirror as they share a look.

"Yea, just venting is all…" Johnny nods.

"Well whatever it was keep it up ya, the fans loved it."

"Not a dry seat in the house," Ia, added salaciously.

Lestrade shoots her a look, "I don't care if ya have a row every show, as long as that performance comes out of it."

"Yes, yes, we get it…" Sherlock rolls his eyes dramatically.

"Right you lot, go out and have fun… don't get in trouble," he adds looking mostly at the woman.

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