The door to 221B rattled disrupting Sherlocks violin solo. John immediately pulled his gun from a drawer. He made eye contact with Sherlock. Sherlock nodded and John walked, gun cocked behind his back, to the door.

"Who's there!?" He demanded already reaching for the bolt.

"John! John it's me! Charlie!"

Johns eyes widened. "What?" He mouthed.

"John I've been mugged!" Charlie cried.

John uncocked the gun and put it in his pocket. He smirked deviously. "Oh really?" John asked in fake surprise.

He opened the door and the man, Charlie, held a frightened expression for about two seconds. Then both men burst out laughing.

"Mugged huh?" John said with the devious smirk returning.

Charlie laughed. "Poor sod jumped me. Took 'IS wallet."

John chuckled. "Well he'll have learned from this I guess."

"Got 'is pocket knife too." Charlie said flicking it open as he boasted.

Sherlock walked over. "Military acquaintance?"

The man looked delighted. He slapped Johns shoulder exclaiming, "So you've told 'im bout me?" He laughed.

John looked startled for a moment.

"Bad shoulder." He said after he'd gathered himself.

"Oh. Sorry." Charlie looked dejected for a moment.

"So..come in!" John opens the door.

-Cut ahead-

John and Charlie were gasping for breath through their laughter. Sherlock kept a stoic expression, but one eyebrow was raised in what seemed like amusement.

In reality Sherlock was judging Charlie rather harshly.

Right hand: previously broken.

Eyes; high dosage of pain killer. Likely for the hand.

Pant legs; poorly laundered. Or just unclean.

Scar over eyebrow; reckless drunk driving.

"So." Charlie said, having caught his breath. " 'Ow many embarrassing stories John told you bout me so far?"

John chuckled. "Nothing bad."

Sherlock started to say, Johns never mentioned you, but John suddenly glared. He shook his head slightly.

Sherlock eyed John suspiciously.

"Well there's a shock!" Charlie laughed. "I thought for shore he'd 'ave told every one of 'em!"

"Haha no. No worries there." John laughed. "Would you excuse me for a moment?"

He walked down the hallway and immediately began texting Sherlock.

Don't tell him I haven't mentioned him. It'd break his heart. JW

Why? SH

It hasn't come up. Just be civil about this. JW

Why? SH

John rolled his eyes.

Nevermind why. Just please, please shut your mouth for once. JW

Okay. I'll lie for you. I'm sure it'll help. SH

John ignored the last message and grabbed a few beers from the fridge.

Sherlock heard this and sent,

Don't throw those from his right side. SH

John shrugged and sent,

Why? JW

Despite himself Sherlock smirked, sending,

Never mind why. SH

John put away his phone and entered tossing a beer far enough that Charlie would need his left hand to catch it.

Instead he caught it will both hands quickly pulling his right hand away and muttering, "Ooh."

"You alright?" John asked sending another glare at sherlock, who had just chuckled.

Charlie frowned. "No I-.

"Broke your hand in Afghanistan?" Sherlock burst in. He folded his hands under his chin expectantly.

"...Yeah" Charlie said wide eyed. " 'Ow'd you know?"

"Simple."

Charlie looked angrily at John. "You two are with 'em!"

"Who?" John asked.

"The bloody Feds." Charlie growled. "I can't believe this. You want me getting a court marital too!"

"Court martial!" John yelled in out rage. "Court martial." He said angrily as if checking to see if he'd heard right.

It quickly registered with Charlie that he'd been wrong to outburst. "I best be off."

"Why would you be getting a court martial?"

Charlie stood avoiding Johns gaze. "Sorry I've got to-."

John stood too, blocking Charlie.

He didn't say anything for a moment. "Wasn't my fault." Charlie finally mumbled.

"What," John bit, "wasn't your fault?" His chest moved faster and he clenched and unclenched his hands.

Cocking his head to the side the taller detective's eyes swept over Charlie. "I was wrong. You didn't break your hand in military service. It's more recent."

"What are you talking about?" Charlie demanded. "A-course I broke it there!"

John was clearly frustrated. "He's a detective. Don't lie to him. He'll find out."

Gulping, Charlie looked between the two flat-mates. "It wasn't my fault." He repeated. "It was someone up there." He pointed up. "Long gone."

Breathing irregularly he continued. "Left a mess down 'ere I 'ad to fix."

-Cut scene-

John was sitting in the interview chair in front of the painted smiley face. "I just thought I'd come 'ere. Say I'm out of a job. Stay with my best mate till the heat's off."

Out of range of the other men in the room, Sherlock pouted slightly. 'His best mate?'

"You saved my life a'fore. I thought maybe..bein' a detective and such you and 'im might...do it again. But I didn't expect it. I was jus' hopin'."

"No, sorry. Can't help you." Sherlock said beginning to shoo the man away.

"What?" Charlie demanded.

"If you can't tell us anything less boring there's no way we can help you."

"Boring?! John, what's he off about."

"Well," John sighed. "believe it or not, but Sherlocks got a point. You need to tell us what the court martial is for, who, up there's really responsible, and how you got involved."

"No John." Sherlock sighed in annoyance. "You're asking the wrong questions again. We need to know how you broke your hand."

A siren blared outside and Charlie jolted as a voiced cracked through a potrol cars speaker.

"Charlie Evanroads and John Watson, come out with your hands up. We have you surrounded!"

"Evanroads?" John said unsurely. "That's not your last name."

"Is now." Charlie said shakily pointing Johns gun at him. He tosses the knife to John. "Come on."

He turns the gun on Sherlock. "Les' take 'im hostage."

"What! No!" John said frantically.

"Alright." Charlie said coldly as he cocked the gun. "Then I shoot 'im."