It takes John a long moment to figure out what Will is on about. Dealing with Sherlock has taught him not to entirely dismiss any thread of a conversation or face the younger man's scorn, but he hadn't expected to need it here. John takes another drink of beer and reclines in the grass.

"I'm not sure it's the same for everyone," he replies. "There was a bloke I met with dragon wings when he was..." A vague gesture serves just as well to illustrate the point. "Apart from the costuming department taking their tips from a BBC period drama, though, it was- I don't know. Empowering isn't the right word. It turned my service pistol into an assault rifle, which was handy." The most ridiculous assault rifle known to man, but Will doesn't need to know that. "But I was doing all right with a flamethrower for a bit there."

He pauses to take another drink because this was beginning to sound utterly fantastic in the 'not good' kind of way. Ella, his therapist, would have a field day with all of this if he ever scheduled another appointment.

Once John mulls it over a bit more, he settles on, "It was odd. It let me kill those things easier, though, so I wasn't about to complain. Have you done anything at all with it?"