A Rainy Day in London

by Lila Pitch

It's raining in London and Sherlock is bored. He and John leave the flat and run into Molly at a café, who tells them her fiancé, Tom, dumped her last week but has since gone missing. Sherlock decides to take the case but finds it difficult with Molly's sentiment and sadness getting in the way. This is not Sherolly, and it's only rated T because of language

1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

It was raining in London. The sky was gray, the wet sidewalk was gray…the day just had an overall feel of "grayness" to it.

John Watson sat in his chair, reading the paper. Or, trying to read the paper. It was a bit hard, what with the noise his flat-mate was making. Sherlock was bored. Again. And the only reason that he wasn't shooting walls was because John had, by some miracle, managed to pinch his gun from under the skull while Sherlock was showering.

Sherlock was torturing his violin again, louder than he ever had before. He wore a most determined expression on his face the whole time, as if it was taking a good deal of concentration to make the violin create the sounds that it currently was.

"SHERLOCK!" John finally bellowed, throwing down his paper and standing up. "Jesus Christ Sherlock, give it a rest!"

"I'm bored, John!", Sherlock said, throwing his bow down violently on the desk.

"Yeah, we've established that, thanks. Don't you have some other way to distract yourself? One that doesn't involve making me miserable, maybe?"

"Nope," he said, with emphasis on the 'p'. "There's no cases right now, Gavin hasn't texted in over a week"-

"It's Greg."

"Whatever, and I can't even bug Mycroft...he's out of the country on a top-secret mission that he wouldn't tell me about but I know he's going to Russia. It was so obvious from the looks of his right palm…"

John didn't even ask. "Great, well, I'm trying to read the paper and I can barely hear myself think"-

"Not much there to hear, really…."

John glared at his friend. "Okay," he said, "I'm going out."

"Where?"

"I don't know yet. I'll figure it out when I get there."

"Can I come?"

John looked at his roommate suspiciously. Sherlock didn't usually offer to venture beyond the walls of 221B Baker street unless there was a case that rated higher than a seven.

"Come on John, I'm going insane, drowning in boredom. Maybe if we get lucky someone will be viciously murdered when we walk by and I'll finally have something to do."

"One can only hope…fine, come on then."