Hi people! No idea what to say here so I'm just gonna start the story... (This is not a johnlock fic if you were wondering)
Chapter I- MISSING NOUNS LIKE CASES AND MILK
Sherlock sat in his chair with a scowl on his face that darkened his eyes. His thin fingers were clenched together snugly, resting lightly against his knees. With a sudden force that startled the curtains from their calm state and made his curls do a little leap on his head, he stood and unclenched his fists. He spun in a partial circle, sending another breeze around the small area around him, and grabbed his violin. He pulled it up to a comfortable and familiar position and held the bow hesitantly above the strings. He glanced out the window as a cab pulled up with a short, blonde haired man pulling the door open. John. He thought. He let out a low sigh and put down the violin with a delicate force that seemed to still the air, as the curtains happened to settle just then. He picked up today's boring, case-less newspaper from the messy stack and gave it a quick snap. Perhaps John had a new case. The boredom was absolutely killing him and if it continued to increase at it's current rate, he'd be shooting the wall again by noon, if he hadn't already done that and he didn't find repetition annoying and normal. He buried his nose in an article about missing persons that may turn out to be a murder, but it was boring and pointless until the body was found in some hellish state that stumped Lestrade and his force of idiots. They do their jobs, even if you do it better, they still try and you've got no right to put them down for not being geniuses. A voice that sounded strangely like John's echoed in the back halls of his mind palace.
"Shut up." He muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Sorry, did you say something?" asked a figure in a jumper from the doorway.
"Nothing, but I might as well complain about the lack of cases in today's paper, now that you're here to listen" He spoke, raising an eyebrow and his gaze to the man who tolerated the bag of various body parts he was holding in his left hand as he made room for the milk that sat on the counter, by pushing things around in the fridge.
"Oh please! You complain whether I listen or not" John scoffed in a teasing tone that echoed slightly against the roof of his mouth.
"Do I now?" He sniffed, sticking his collarbone forward indignantly.
"Tea?" was the only response other than an eye roll and an inquiring glance over his shoulder.
Sherlock nodded and continued to search the paper with fierce eyes, as if threatening it to not provide for him. The comfortable silence lasted several minutes as the groceries were unloaded. John settled down into the chair opposite Sherlock and pulled his laptop open and across his lap. As the keys starting tapping, Sherlock looked up and let out a small sigh that went unnoticed by the doctor. He stood up again and tossed the newspaper back to the pile.
"If you are desperate, those missing people are confusing the police" John offered.
"Desperate isn't the word I would use to describe it" Sherlock stated with a hint of defiance. He tugged on the collar of his coat so all the wrinkles mysteriously vanished from his outfit. "You coming?" He asked with an eyebrow raise and a flick of his scarf around his neck. John grinned and stood. The tall man was out calling a cab with his quick stride while John was still shutting the door behind him.
~€.€~
The DI was obviously tired when the consulting detective and his companion strode into his office with an air of arrogance and superiority that mainly radiated from the taller one with the coat.
"Sherlock." He said with a half hearted nod. "Well, make yourself right at home" he sighed sarcastically.
"What do you have on the new missing persons?" Sherlock ignored the comment.
"What do you need? We got pretty much all their data" Lestrade said, handing him a folder from the desk.
"Good. Last known location?" He muttered, paging through it quickly.
"It seems obvious by the facts, but don't be fooled." Lestrade warned. Sherlock rolled his eyes. Lestrade pointed to a spot on the map that was temporarily taped to the wall.
"All of them?"
"The thing is not where they have gone, but that would be interesting too." The DI sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"They are missing persons, correct?" John asked in surprise.
"It is a matter of how." He responded with great stress.
"How?" Sherlock muttered, still reading the files.
"All three were with their fiancés and they all say the same thing..."
"Vanished out of thin air" Sherlock quoted from the file, looking up.
"Thin air? Vanished?" John looked stunned.
"Oh, wipe that look from your face, they were obviously wiped of memory! Nobody could just disappear." Sherlock scoffed. "On the other hand, we have a case!" He grinned with a crinkle by eyes.
~€.€~
"You have got to be kidding me." There was no amusement in John's voice as Sherlock revealed his plans like an evil genius reveals his plans, which in a way he was. You know what? Just ignore that last part, all that matters is that he was snickering at John's expression.
"Why on Earth would I do that?" He said with fake innocence.
"You are honestly gonna barge in with no plan? You?"
"No plan? John, I thought you would listen better. I said improvise. I will barge in and improvise."
"My god, Sherlock that is the same thing"
"Hardly, besides, we will appear to act natural" Sherlock stated with a swift hand through his hair, declaring it final. Mrs. Hudson walked in just then.
"Act natural while doing what Dear? You two are making a ruckus" She asked, only mildly concerned by the high-functioning sociopath's still present, lopsided grin.
"Oh, I have to take John on a fake date to a restaurant where several people have gone missing" Sherlock said, rubbing his hands together. John spit out his tea.
"Oh good! It sounds like you will be having a bit of fun. Oh, and Sherlock, don't get yourself killed", she replied cheerfully, leaving the flat once more.
"I wouldn't dream of it" he smiled warmly.
"What?" John spoke in a voice that was quiet but bounced around the room with the shocked energy and ferociousness of a small kitten who discovered the catnip. He was still wiping tea from his pants where the ejected droplets had landed after their unfortunate flight.
"Relax John, it's just a case" the detective sighed and turned towards the door, as if to leave.
"Where are you going?" John managed to recover from the surprise enough to shoot the words at the man's curls on the back of his head.
"We need milk." Sherlock threw over his shoulder as he left.
"But I bought some this morning!" John muttered in confusion that was lost to the not-currently-present wind. He stood to check the fridge, but indeed the milk had mysteriously vanished.