John walked into the living room of 221B Baker Street and stopped. "What are you doing?"

He was used to Sherlock and Charlie's unusual experiments but this wasn't an experiment, at least, he didn't think it was. Charlie was perched on the back of Sherlock's seat next to the fireplace, with one foot on either arm of the chair and Sherlock sitting back in the chair in front of her, sitting between her legs. The petite young woman looked up at John with the scissors in her hand, "What was that?"

John sighed "I asked what you're doing"

"Cutting Sherlock's hair"

John looked at Sherlock, he had taken up the position that indicated that he was off to his mind palace and was, therefore, going to be unresponsive. "Does he know you're cutting his hair?" John wondered aloud.

"Well he did when I started"

John slowly placed the shopping on the floor, still staring perplexed at his flatmates, "Do you always cut his hair?"

"Pretty much, yeah – ever since I met him. He asked me to do it once and hasn't been to a hairdresser since" Charlie went back to cutting the consulting detectives dark curly locks.

John shook his head – although it was strange, he had to admit he'd come home to much stranger before. He picked up the shopping again and took it through to the kitchen to put away.

"I couldn't find white face paint" John called through to Charlie "do you think it was important?"

"At the time it was, but he's finished with that one"

"Within the forty five minutes it took me to do the shopping?!"

"Yup – about ten minutes after you left, Lestrade's off to arrest the woman now"

Well done Sherlock, John thought to himself as he finished putting the shopping away. He came back through and started hunting for his laptop, "Charlie, have you seen-"

"Our room" she answered without looking up. John sighed and went to retrieve his laptop from the room Sherlock and Charlie shared (platonically - as he'd been told so many times). After a good few minutes of digging through the clutter, John called again, "Charlie?"

"Next to the bed, Sherlock's side, on the floor – I think it's under his purple shirt"

John followed the directions and got his laptop, he'd given up trying to get either of them to tidy that room ages ago and knew there was no point in moaning about it again. He returned to the living room and, putting Sherlock's violin aside, flopped on the sofa. Just as he logged into his laptop, Charlie said "Done"

John looked round in confusion only to see Sherlock returning from his mind palace to run his hands through his freshly cut hair, "Thank you Charlie" he said as he stood up, stretching his long arms then brushing the hair off his shoulders, "I'm going for a shower now, would you like me to leave it on for you?"

"Yes please" she replied as she hopped sideways down off of the chair to fetch the Hoover.

Sherlock crossed the room before noticing John had returned, "Ah John – did you get milk?"

John froze, "What?"

"Milk, John – did you buy any?"

"No! You said there was still some left!"

"Well there isn't now" he called as he left the room, "Do you mind going to get some? Thanks"

John growled to himself as he shut down his laptop, got to his feet and put his coat back on. He was going to say to Charlie that he was leaving but seeing as she was hoovering and had her headphones on he didn't seem much point. If that laptop is gone by the time I get back I'm going to shoot him, John thought angrily before realising he hadn't actually seen his gun in over a month. Damn it.