Chapter 1
Bones Sinking Like Stones.
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I knew it was a mistake to take that man scuba diving. At first he refused, but then I persuaded him by telling him that he could take home one thing he found while we were out so he could experiment on it. It was fun while it lasted.
Scuba diving and London don't exactly mix, but there were no new cases and I've always wanted to try it.
So here we were, having a good time and Sherlock childishly picking up and object and dropping it when he found a more interesting one. I started to get cold in the water so I asked if he wanted to leave. Sherlock being Sherlock, he refused as he tried to find "the perfect thing". I sat on the shore of the stony beach, letting Sherlock go off on his own.
I'll check on him in five minutes, I thought, just to make sure he hasn't drowned or something…
I figured out that I didn't need to bother, every five or so minutes he came out of the water and dumped something next to me. By the third object, I was getting curious.
"Sherlock?"
"Mmm?"
"What's this stuff?" I asked, gesturing to the small pile of objects next to me.
"That 'stuff' as you call it is my collection of interesting things I've found," he proclaimed proudly.
"You know you're only allowed one, right?"
"Yes John, I am aware," he pouted, "I can't decide what I want while I'm underwater because I can't talk so I'm leaving it here so I can justify the perfect item when I'm done."
"Riiiight. Don't be long, I'm aching for tea," Sherlock smiled at me and continued on his search. I had to admit that he'd found some pretty interesting stuff. There was some sort of leathery thing, a bottle of black goo and an indescribable small skeleton. Sherlock returned constantly to dump things next to me for an hour, but after that hour he was missing for longer than usual. At least half an hour later, I decided to put on my gear and go looking for him. I had nearly finished when I saw his figure struggling out of the water. I ran to him worryingly but stopped as I realised the source of his staggering- he was dragging a large black object out from the water behind him.
"Sherlock! What is that? A baby whale?" Please don't let it be a baby whale. Please.
"This, my dear John," he announced dramatically, dumping the object with the others, "is a bag. And inside of this bag," he brushed off some seaweed and unzipped the bag slowly. Not for dramatic effect, simply because it kept getting jammed. He pulled back the flaps of the bag with a flourish, revealing the interior, "is a body."
"Oh my God! Sherlock! You have to call Lestrade, now!" I screamed at him. Sherlock stepped back sheepishly and muttered under his breath, "Excuse me?"
"I said that you told me I could take home whatever I want," he glanced at the body, "I choose this."
"No, Sherlock, we're not taking home a dead body, we're ringing Lestrade."
"Joooohhhhhhn," he whined, "pleeeeaaase," I sighed. At least it's not a baby whale.
"Alright, but right after you've finished, we're calling Lestrade. Okay?"
"Okay…"

I regret letting him take it home. Not only did the flat stink for weeks on end, but I had to but a new table for the kitchen as the last one broke under the weight of the dead body. Sherlock decided he'd leave it on the floor of the kitchen to experiment. I had no idea what he was doing to the body exactly, so I can't even begin to tell you what was going on in our flat, but by the end of the month, I snapped.
"Sherlock, for fuck's sake! Take this body OUT OF THE FLAT! The neighbours are complaining, Lestrade is getting suspicious and Mrs. Hudson will be home in a few days!" she was on a trip to the Bahamas. Lucky woman.
"Yes, but at least Mycroft doesn't visit anymore," he retaliated from his microscope.
"That's not the point, Sherlock. I want you to take this body to Lestrade so I can actually breathe in this flat!"
"Concrete!"
"What?"
"Concrete!" and with that he ran out the door. I sighed and sat heavily in my chair. I pulled out my phone to text Sherlock and as I did, it buzzed with a new message:
Don't worry, I'm telling him now. SH
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Sherlock and I laughed as Anderson scowled at the smell of our flat. Lestrade had a gas mask on and was talking about something to do with 'letting it slide just this once'. They collected the body disdainfully and I proceeded to open every window and spray a mixture of air fresheners and deodorant around the flat.
"So," I started, turning on Sherlock, "concrete?"
"Yes, the man I found at the beach," he smiled, "had his bone marrow replaced with concrete. That's why he sank in the water instead of floating."
"Fair enough. Poor sod…" I trailed. Sherlock turned on the television and huddled onto the sofa.
"Tea?" he inquired. I sighed and agreed to make it for him.
"So… why did someone kill this man?"
"Don't know, don't care," I looked at him with surprise, "what? I solved the interesting part, I'm sure Lestrade can handle it. Besides," he glanced at me for a second. If I hadn't already been looking, I probably would have missed it, "I have better things to…do."
I turned back to the kettle with a blush.

So if you haven't read Golden, this is a series of drabbles/ideas that didn't make it/snippets that didn't want to grow up and be tall and lanky and fight crime with their dashing good looks that send people like me swooning.
I'm prompting myself with the first line from a list of my favourite songs on my iPhone. If you know this one, good job :3
I will try to update as often as I can but I only have access to school computers and a lot of the time it's only for an hour. During the holidays, however I have full access to my own computer and I'll try to get more done.
Also, if you like my stories and are going to Supanova in Sydney on the 18th and 19th of June, I'll be wandering around in my Sherlock or undertaker gear (if my undertaker gear gets here in time) I'll most probably be walking with a grell and an alois and a DQ9 celestrian but if you're not sure just ask if I'm Arakai. Only if you're interested, I don't mind if no-one cares :3
Will update ASAP!
SH