CHAPER 1: Sherlock was late out of bed again this morning and John Watson was worried as usual at the strange behaviour of his room mate, although sherlock was not an ordinary human being he was usualy out of bed in time to catch the six o'clock morning news about the streets of london. Whenever he did wake he usualy described his dream (in full detail with not a single thing left out) and what all of the events meant. For the past six days however, Sherlock had woken at eight and gone streight to the window, he then sighed in disapointment which meant he didnt like what he saw. At eight o'clock this morning, bang on the dot, Sherlocks bedroom door opened. John could clearly see that Sherlock had just awoken as his dark long curls were sticking up at odd angles and his eyes were red and puffy.

'Morning Sherlock' said John, alls he got in reply was a finger on lips motion from the half asleep man that had just appeared out of the main bedroom door. Sherlock walked over to the window and sighed again in obvious fustration then sat down in the armchair and turned on the news.

'Sleep well?' John asked now desperate for some sort of conversation that may end with Sherlock fustrated and John very confused.

'Not exactly no' Replied Sherlock in his deep and bored voice. 'Has Lestrade called this morning?'

'No? Why, should he have?' Lestrade was a detective at scotland yard, and a very good one, but he tried to solve things on his own without Sherlock, who wasnt a detective but solved crimes for entertainment and no pay. He called himself a consulting detective whereas others called him a freak.

'No he should not have called but i would like something to do as i am bored out of my amasingly clever but slowly dyeing mind.' At this he stood up and stormed into his bedroom slaming the door behind him.

'Never have children as long as you live with Sherlock' John said aloud as he rose from the chair at the table in the kitchen that was covered in newspaper clippings and science equiment that Sherlock used for his work. John walked over to the window that Sherlock walked to every morning and pulled back the blinds he looked up and down the empty roads of baker street and couldnt quite see what had Sherlock so fustrated.

At twelve o'clock John was that fed up of Sherlock coming out of his bedroom every hour, looking out of the window and storming back into it, that he decided to just ask Sherlock what was wrong.

'Erm Sherlock?' He asked wearily.

'Yes John, what could you possibly want to bother me with at this time of the day?'

'Well i ondered what was ment to be out of the window?'

'Not that its any buisness of yours but i am looking for the familiar thing that is used in everyday lives, John'

John pulled his confused face which he usualy did during conversations with Sherlock.

'Cars John, not a single car has passed this street in six and a half days!'

'How do you know one hasnt passed when you've been in your room?'

'Use your brain John, my bedroom window is open! I listen for a car and when I think I hear one I come outside!' Sherlock was fustrated now at how stupid he thought John was. Stung by the insults John may be, he couldnt help but agree with Sherlock at how little John could observe but something about this storey just didnt fit.

'But you come out every hour bang on the o'clock, why is that?'

'Hmmmm, curious.' Sherlocks face had gone into the interested dreamy face that he usualy had when things happened that even Sherlock couldnt deduce.

'Maybe a car does go past every hour and by the time I come to the window it has gone' He ran into his bedroom with exitement rather thad disapointment and slamed the door. That was the last John saw of Sherlock all day but he heard murmurs comeing from his room, too quiet to hear as though in a whisper.