Chapter 1

John woke up with the sun in his eyes, he squinted, and groaned, he really didn't want to go to work.

"What's the matter, honey?"

John looked over at the brunette next to him, Sarah was soft with sleep, a hazy smile lingering on her face, she brought a hand up to flip her hair back.

"Nothing, just really don't want to go to work." John said, and rubbed his hands over his face, trying to quench his tiredness.

"Stay in for a while, no one is going to care if you're late." Sarah said, and smiled as she slipped her nightgown off of one shoulder, revealing bare, smooth flesh. She smiled, "Can I tempt you to stay?"

"Sorry, but I've got to get to work." John said, he wasn't even looking at Sarah's shoulder, he got up and stretched, "But you can sleep in if you want."

Sarah looked slightly dejected, but snuggled into her pillow, falling asleep again with a lingering sadness.

The Scotland Yard was bustling with activity, everywhere but John and Greg's office. As usual, their office was deadly quiet, the board filling up with more and more clues, though none of them bore any leads and in fact only a few of them seems to be connected at all. The filing cabinet is also filled to the brim, but only a few made sense, and none of them had enough weight to grant anything more than a search warrant.

"Morning Greg." John said as he took a sip of his coffee, it was shitty cafeteria coffee, burning his tongue and tasting like water in a stylophone cup.

"How are you drinking that crap?"

"At least it's coffee."

Greg shrugged, and took a sip of his own coffee, but from a travel mug and brought to the office from the expensive machine that his wife had bought without telling him.

"Anything new?" John asked, although he knew the answer already, Adler and Holmes were impossible to catch, they know how to cover their trails, but they leave just enough clues to drive the police, namely John and Greg, mad.

"Do you think we would be able to catch them before we retire?"

"I doubt it."

Outside of Scotland yard, in a black jaguar, sat a man and a woman. Both of them had dark hair, and some would even say they looked alike, but they are not related. The woman had her hair pinned up in a elegant knot on top of her head, she was wearing blood red lipstick and a form fitting black dress, with a permanent mysterious smile. The man had a head full of curls, he had piercing eyes that no one could quite tell the color of, and he wore a tailored suit, his skin was extremely pale. Those two are dangerous, slippery, and notorious criminals, or more specifically, Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler.

"What are we doing here again?" Sherlock drawled, his hands in a tented position just below his chin.

"We're meeting a girl who thought it would be safer if we met outside Scotland Yard." Irene said, looking at her phone, she rolled her eyes, "What a foolish girl."

"Clearly that's exactly why she talked to us." Sherlock said, then looked at his watch, "when is she coming and why do I have to be here?"

"Shut it, stop complaining."

Sherlock grumbled incomprehensibly, and slouched in his seat like a child.

"Sit up." Irene said sharply, "You're going to wrinkle your suit."

"Yes, mother."

"I did not carry you for nine months to get that tone." Irene said sternly, then they both smiled.

"Hey, is that the girl?" Sherlock pointed at a lone figure standing in front of Scotland Yard, clearly waiting for someone, the streak of blue in her blond hair and the piercing on her nose screamed teenage rebellion, she looked nervous, her clothes tell that she was trying to show that she was an adult, but Sherlock could tell that she felt guilty about being there.

"Yes it is."

"Well then, go work your magic."

"Oh I will."

John looked up as the young intern knocked on the glass door of their office, he motioned for him to come in, and the lad laid a file on his desk.

"What's that?"

"Not sure, sir." He said, he seemed nervous to be talking to the head of a division, even though that division consisted of John, Greg, and a couple of people the yard gave them when they complained about the lack of manpower, "Mr. Usher just told me to give it to you. It seems to be classified, though."

"Thanks, lad." John said, and as an afterthought asked about his age, he was 21.

"I swear those guys get younger every year." John said as Greg walked into the office, bumping into the intern, who blushed and became extremely flustered.

"I think we're just getting old."

"Don't remind me." John said, grimacing as he took a sip of the cold coffee, "This is actually disgusting."

"What's in that file?"

John opened it, it contained several typed pieces of paper of how a drug ring that was recently busted had been revealed to have a contact list with the names "The Lipstick and the Cheekbones", the phone number was London's.

"Hey Greg," John said, still staring distractedly at the piece of paper in his lap.

"Yeah?"

"I believe we've just got our first lead in five months."

Downstairs, Irene, in 10 cm high heels, approached the teenager.

"So, I've heard that you wanted to make some money."