I rake my hair out of my eyes yet again as I rapidly scan the streets in search of Sherlock. He forgot his gun again, I think in annoyance. Without John to remind him, he rushes off and leaves everything. My eyes land on a tall man, with light auburn hair, coat billowing behind, striding down the street. Ah! I race down the slick pavement, batting the wind and rain out of my face, and finally catch up with him.

"Sherlock!" I gasp. "You forgot it again!" I reach out and grab his sodden sleeve. He turns and rolls his eyes.

"You should just give it to me in the flat- it's so much easier."

I let out a frustrated sigh. How does he always make things sound like my fault? I dig around inside my pocket and pull the gun out. "Here."

A gloved hand reaches out and takes it from me, smoothly sliding it into the back of his trousers. It then waves at me dismissively.

"Off you go, then."

I reach up and smack him upside the head.

"What?" He glares at me while rubbing his short locks. We had to dye and straighten it so that no one would notice him. Honestly, Sherlock's shocked expression as he gazed into the mirror after I did his hair was priceless.

"You didn't say thank you. I told you that I would hit you every time you didn't say 'please' or 'thank you'", I explain patiently.

"And I agreed to this?"

"Well, you nodded, said 'okay' and told me you wanted Chinese."

"Was I, perchance, conducting an experiment?"

"…Maybe."

"So you took advantage of the fact that I wasn't listening and made me agree."

"Pretty much."

He twitches the corner of his lip- not a smile, he never smiles- at me, ruffles my already ruined hair and slips a fiver into my hand.

"Go get some tea. Meet me at Trafalgar Square in twenty." With that, he turns and walks off.

"You still didn't say thank you!" I yell at him, smile, and then turn and jog off to the nearest coffee shop.