I hope this fan fic is not that bad... It's my first mystery, so please be patient with me if it isn't that great. Also, don't hate me for having this in Sherlock's POV, because I know it is quite impossible to duplicate what goes on in that man's head, but I am trying as hard as I can.

This story is set one month after "The Fall".

Sherlock Holmes

Bored. Boredboredboredboredbored. I hated just sitting in Molly's apartment, day after day, not doing cases or talking with John. God, I missed him so much.

My experiments were going well. Molly was able to get a microscope from Bart's, and I spent most of my day looking at different pollens or bacteria. I was working on the cure to the common cold, but it got boring after a week.

I needed a puzzle, something to solve. I also needed to get out of the flat. I had already searched the whole flat, reading books, finding hiding places (I admit, the loose floorboard took me a while to find), and just making a complete mess.

Of course I don't care. But Molly does.

She has been very helpful, and I do fully appreciate her hard work, but she's not exactly as good of a flatmate as John.

Two things that she would not allow were my nicotine patches and my hand gun. She had gotten rid of the gun after two days because I had taken to shooting her wall. She was not very happy about that when she got home from work.

I hopped out of her plush red armchair and pranced across the room, swinging the refrigerator door open and taking out a plastic bag full of tongues.

"Alright..." I sighed, swabbing one of the tongues and putting the sample under the microscope.

The pink cells looked frosted, almost crystalized. Much more frozen than the tear glands that were in the fridge for the same time. I made a note in my head, and put it under the file science; anatomy (a/n: I figure Sherlock has a filing system in his head).

Ugh. Every time I finished doing something, I was immediately bored.

At that moment, Molly walked in. She was wearing a beige sweater and an orange blouse, that looked more wrinkled than usual. Her hair was unraveled from its bun and hung around her shoulders. She carried two plastic bags that had "Woo Wong Chinese Gourmet" which were probably take-out.

"Busy day?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, hands behind my head.

She scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion and surprise. "How do you know that?" she said, setting the bags on the table beside the microscope.

"Obvious, isn't it?" From her still confused expression, I guessed it wasn't. I sighed heavily and explained.

"Your hair is down, which it never is, which means that it fell out, but you were too busy to notice. You've wiped your eyes several times, probably from sweat or sleepiness-"

"How did you know I rubbed my eyes?"

"Your eyeshadow is smudged," I said, waving it away like it was an annoying fly. "Anyway, you bought take-out from the only Chinese restaurant on the way from Bart's to here. That implies that you didn't want to bother with making dinner, and you didn't even go out of your way to go to a decent place. Next time, I'd suggest Frank's Deli. You might not get food poisoning."

She shifted nervously on her feet, then said, "Ok. They had a dead body. Lestrade was there forever."

I looked inquiringly up at her. "What was the cause of death?"

She looked away and started busying herself with the take-out boxes.

I got up and made her put down the styrofoam box in her hands. "There's no need. You know I never eat when I'm busy."

"B-but you're not busy-"

"Yes I am, I have a case!"

"How could you possibly have a case? You don't even know how she died!"

"No, I don't, not until you tell me," I said, taking her shoulders and slightly shaking them.

She threw her arms up in the air. "I'm not going to-"

I pouted my lip, and widened my eyes. "Please? I'm so bored... I haven't had anything to do all week..."

She looked into my eyes and frowned a little.

"I promise not to put body parts in the fridge for an entire month."

She seemed to have given up resisting. "Fine, fine. It was a woman in her late 20s, whole body burned. Only thing that wasn't burned beyond recognition was her face."

"What makes this one so strange?"

"She was found in a pool, Sherlock, her lungs filled with water. She drowned. And one other strange thing..."

"What? What?" I said, tightening the grip on her shoulders.

"Her eyes were carved out."

Don't forget to review and tell me what you think! Comments that tell me what's bad are welcome! Tell me if you like it in Sherlock's POV, or if I shouldn't even try again. Hope this was a good Chap and I'll try to write up another one soon!