Well, here's the first chapter. I finally came up with a title, but I'm not really crazy about it. I'll probably go back and change it later. And this time I promise there will be a progression of John and Sherlock's relationship. Please review I love to hear your thoughts.

Disclaimer; I own nothing.

This wasn't exactly how Sherlock had expected his day to go when he woke up, but not a lot of people wake up and think 'Hey I'm going to going to fight a guy armed with a sword in my living room'. The heavily robed figure moved towards Sherlock slashing at him with his curved sword. Sherlock backed up carefully and ducked this way and that to avoiding the man's blows. He backed Sherlock up to the sofa and took another swing. Sherlock ducked, ending up sitting on the sofa. The man lifted the sword with both hands high above his head preparing to strike. Sherlock leaned back kicking him hard in the chest sending him back stumbling across the room. Sherlock stood taking a moment to straighten him jacket. He really hoped the man didn't ruin it, this one was his favorite. With that Sherlock charged across the room.

The man slashed his sword backing Sherlock up toward the kitchen table. Thankfully he (well actually John) had cleared it off earlier. Sherlock placed a firm grip on his wrist as the man pushed him back against the table forcing the blade to the detective's throat. Sherlock grimaced in an effort to push the man away and preserve his neck. The point of the sword dug into the table next to Sherlock's face. Sherlock lifted his leg kneeing the man in the side several time till his grip weakened enough that Sherlock could force him back. The sword gouged a long slash across the top of the table. Dame, Sherlock mentally cursed, John would have his head for that plus Mrs. Hudson would take it out of his rent.

Sherlock was on his feet again back to the living room. The robed man made another slash at Sherlock who duck quickly righting himself again. Well, it looked like this would have to be solved the old fashioned way. Sherlock pointed over the man's shoulder.

"Look!"

The man was already half turned in that direction with the back swing of his next blow. Sherlock thought that maybe the fire's reflection in the mirror contributed to distracting him, or at least he hoped that no one would be stupid enough to fall for this trick. In all honesty Sherlock never expected the man to look, which he did. Sherlock swung a powerful uppercut, and the man dropped unconscious into Sherlock's armchair. Sherlock took another minute to straighten himself up. He looked at the man in disdain. He had torn the sleeve of Sherlock's favorite jacket.

It was some time later that John came back home from the shop by then Sherlock had straightened up the room and changed his jacket. Sherlock had picked up a book about bees that he had found in an antique bookstore from some out-of-the-way place. John came up the stair, and Sherlock could hear him stopping just in the doorway.

"You took your time." Sherlock said without looking up for his book. It was just getting to the part about the stingless bees of the Mayan's.

"Yeah, I didn't get the shopping." Sherlock looked up at John indignantly over his book.

"What? Why not?"

"Because I had a row," John had a row? With who? Sherlock couldn't think of anyone more agreeable than John (most of the time). "In the shop, with a chip-and-PIN machine." John said irate.

"You ... you had a row with a machine? Sherlock asked lowering his book.

"Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse. Have you got cash?" Sherlock held back an amused smirk and nodded to the kitchen.

"Take my card." John walked into the kitchen over to the table where Sherlock had left his wallet, but stopped short turning to Sherlock.

"You could always go yourself, you know. You've been sitting there all morning. You've not even moved since I left." Sherlock thought back to the fight with the robed swordsman. Sherlock tried to remain nonchalant just turning a page. John searched through his wallet looking for a card.

"And what happened about that case you were offered – the Jaria Diamond?"

"Not interested." Sherlock said slipping a scrap of paper in the book to mark his page, and shutting it with a loud snap. The detective glanced down realising that the attacker's sword was still lying underneath his chair in plain view. If John found out about the brawl he had in the flat only minutes ago he'd be furious. Sherlock quickly slammed his foot down on the end sliding the sword out of sight.

"I sent them a message." Sherlock said firmly. John pulled out the card but paused to look at the new deep gouge in the table. John ran a finger over the mark. Sherlock heard him sigh and mutter something under his breath but couldn't tell what he said. He looked pointedly across the room at Sherlock who just shook his head innocently. John turned leaving down the stairs. Sherlock couldn't help but smirk. So close, John. It was amazing how wonderfully unobservant people could be.

John staggered up the stair his arm full with the shopping. Sherlock knew he should get up and help, but..it..was..so...far away. John could take care of the shopping anyway.

"Don't worry about me. I can manage." Sherlock just tuned him out not sparing him a glance focusing on his inbox. Sherlock unconsciously folded his hand in front of his mouth the gesture so familiar he did it without thinking. Sebastian Wilkes, of all people, had emailed him. Sherlock was surprise at seeing that name in his inbox. Sherlock skimmed through the email. Blah, blah blah, something about not seeing each other in a long time. There was a reason for that. Then how he heard that Sherlock had become a consultant blah blah there had been an incident at the bank he worked at. Finally, something interesting. He should have said so outright, and got to the point.

"Is that my computer?" John asked from the kitchen. Sherlock didn't look up just begun typing his reply.

"Of course."

"What!?"

"Mine was in the bedroom." Sherlock said simply.

"What, and you couldn't be bothered to get up?" Sherlock didn't answer just to show him how little he could be bothered. "It's password protected!" John said indignantly.

"In a manner of speaking. Took me less than a minute to guess yours." Sherlock glanced up at John from his typing. "Not exactly Fort Knox."

"Right thank you." John huffed annoyed. John reached over slamming the lid down and taking the laptop. Sherlock barely moved his fingers in time. John sat down in his chair putting the computer on the floor next to him. John picked up the pile of bill from the counter and frowned flicking through them. "Oh, Need to get a job."

"Oh, dull." Sherlock said only half listening. John looked back and forth from the mail to Sherlock finally he sighed leaning forward in his chair.

" Listen, um ... if you'd be able to lend me some ..." Sherlock didn't hear his friend off in his own world. "Sherlock, are you listening?"

"I need to go to the bank." Sherlock said without turning around. Sherlock without another word got up from his chair heading to the door grabbing his coat on the way.