Sherlock Holmes blinked blurry eyes still annoyed at having to have taken a red eye flight in from London. Of all the times to receive a call from a colleague in this town. Sherlock growled darkly to himself. He wanted nothing more then to throw an tantrum, but honestly he was a 26 year old man. He was far to old to act, as his brother so often called him, a child. Sighing in irritation he handed his completed customs form to the less then intelligence man before him and resisted the urge to growl darkly at the man. Really why was coming to another country so much bother these days. In all honesty he'd have rather not come at all, but no Mr. Blakey said it was important and since his colleague so rarely called in favours, he knew this had better be good. Oh who was he kidding Richard Blakey wasn't a man who needed to call in someone like Sherlock unless it really was that desperate. So here he was a 5am getting off a direct nearly private flight. Facing an imbecile who was keeping not only himself waiting, but his escort to his downtown destination waiting.<br/><br/>"How long will you be staying in Washington Mr. Holmes?" the man inquired. Stumbling over his name. Sherlock frowned darkly at him.<br/><br/>"If I was aware of that information I would have wrote it down on the form Mr...." Sherlock informed the man in a brisk irritated tone.<br/><br/>"Richardson, my name is Ivan Richardson Mr. Holmes," the imbecile informed him. Sherlock regarded the man. Noting the slight stain on his right breast where he had drip some form of sauce, from his dinner no doubt. His tie was slightly crooked, his hair slightly unkept. The overall appearance of the man was one that left much to be desire. The way he squinted at the written responses on the form. Even more infuriating. The man clearly needed glasses.<br/><br/>"Mr. Richardson, I have an appointment to keep. I am here on business. Everything you require is in that form. Can we finish up anytime soon? I have things that need to be seen too and am rather in a hurry," Sherlock finally ground out trying for polite, ending up sounding mildly infuriated instead.<br/><br/>"Yes... Yes," the imbecile kept repeating that word, really it was becoming quite grating on his nerves.<br/><br/>"Is there a problem here?" A deep voice demanded coming up to the desk. Sherlock looked over at the well dressed man, noting the earpiece and slight indication that he was carrying a piece under his suit jacket. Dressed all in black and looking impressive.<br/><br/>"Yes there is," Mr. Richardson began, but was quickly cut off when the man flashed his badge and informed him in no uncertain term.<br/><br/>"Mr. Holmes has been called here on business of national importance, he isn't your concern. Simply hand over the documents necessary and I'll have my office contact your manager directly, we are in a hurry," the unidentified man told the imbecile and Sherlock simply rolled his eyes at the theatrics, but soon the process was finished and he held his passport and documents back in his possession. They left the airport quickly getting into a SUV. A black SUV. How very inconspicuous thought Sherlock sarcastically.<br/><br/>"You will need to find a place of residence, as you will likely be here for the better part of a year," the man informed Sherlock handing him a tablet with a trusted advertisement site where people usually listed apartments and such. Sherlock took the device and began to scan the adds. He wanted something quiet, needed privacy and preferably not someone who would irritate him. Stumbling across Joan Watson's add he found it rather interesting and opted to contact her. He sent her an email inquiring about coming to see the property in question.