"Get us up to Serafima Bershanskaya," Sherlock demanded.

Maksim glared at him, and then continued typing. "Look, sir, I really can't. Now please leave before I call the authorities."

Sherlock, keeping his composure, just replied: "Ivan Rusputine."

Maksim froze, and even though he was glass, the assembled visitors could almost see him turning blue in fear. The Doctor, and the Ponds and John, felt a little bad for him, but the damage was, unfortunately, done.

"Er, y-yes, sir, right away, sir," the man stammered. He shakily grabbed a key card from beside himself. He handed it to them. "The lift is through the doors behind me, just go straight and it's the one at the end of the hall."

Sherlock took the key card, and Maksim quickly went back to typing, although it was more stiff than earlier. Sherlock quickly walked past him, and the Ponds and John followed him. The Doctor, however, hung back.

"I'm sorry about my friend," the Doctor told him. "I'll keep you out of trouble."

The poor man didn't answer, or even look at him, so the Doctor moved on, following the rest of his group to the lift. He found them waiting in front of the one farthest from the door, like the secretary said.

"Well, then," the Doctor said, clapping his hands and beaming. "Ready to go then? I definitely am!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and slid the key card into the slot. The lift's doors opened in front of them, and the group filed in.

"This is...," Amy said, looking around them. "Strange...."

"The Lyudi love to look at themselves," the Doctor shrugged, also looking around at the mirrors that surrounded them from all sides. Even the floor and the roof and mirrors on them. But that's not the pressing really matter on his mind right now. He turned to Sherlock.

"You didn't need to do that," he told the man. Sherlock stared straight ahead, expression neutral.

"Yes, I did," Sherlock told him.

"No, you didn't," the Doctor argued. "I could have used the TARDIS! We could have sneaked in! We didn't have to blackmail that guy."

 "Sherlock, the Doctors right," John cut in. "Why'd you do that?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Because, that's what O.C.T.A.V.I.A told you to do, Doctor, and she is a supercomputer and you are not."

"Still," the Doctor replied. "That was cold, you really shouldn't have done that."

"He's going to be fine," Sherlock grumbled. 

"How do you know?" Amy cut in.

"The Doctor will make sure," Sherlock answered sarcastically.

"I will try, at least," the Doctor replied. "But O.C.T.A.V.I.A could be wrong-."

"I trust a computers more than I trust you, Doctor," Sherlock interrupted loudly.

"Because you are one?" John snapped. The elevator went quiet, and Sherlock turned away.

After a minute, the Doctor opened his mouth to say something, but the door opened before he could.

"Let's go," Sherlock told them, and they all filed out of the lift.

On this floor, there was only one door, and it was straight down the hallway. The hallway, like the lift was filled with mirrors on all for sides.

"What are they trying to do, make a house of mirrors?" Amy scoffed.

"Don't hit it till you've seen it," the Doctor replied absentmindedly. 

"I don't think-," John started.

"Oh, look  at that, we're here!" the Doctor cried. All of his previous anger seemed to have disappeared. "Perfect."

Walking up smartly to the door, he knocked harshly on the hard wooden surface. 

"Hello?" he called out. "Serafima Bershanskaya? I'm the Doctor. And these are Sherlock Holmes, the Ponds-."

"Amy and Rory," Amy called.

"And John Watson," the Doctor finished. "We only want to talk, so if you could just-."

Suddenly, the door swung open to reveal a very angry and blue looking woman, holding some type of gun.

"Get. Out." she hissed.