Chapter One
The sun shined into the face of Sherlock Holmes making him close his eyes. For the last few early hours of the morning he had sat in his chair. Possible cases and problems going through his genius brain, but still he was bored.
"John?" the man finally opened his mouth, but not his eyes.
"Joohn?" he didn´t get an answer so he tried again. Nothing.
"John!" Sherlock opened his eyes and turned towards the door of his apartment. Where was that man? Why did he always have to be somewhere?
"Oh for gods sake Sherlock! What do you want?" a pissed of man walked into the room. Sherlock smirks just a little, but again closes his eyes.
"Tea"
"It's six in the morning and you wake me up because you want tea?" John asks and shakes his head unbelievingly.
"Yes" Sherlock replied shortly.
"Well make it yourself!" the man, still in his pajamas muttered and turned to go back to bed.
"Can't, there are no teabags anywhere" The detective opened his eyes and turned his gaze towards John. He estimated that his friend had only slept for a few hours, but didn't think of that as a important fact.
"Cant you go get some from the store?" John questioned rubbing his sleepy eyes. It took him a while to adjust to the brightness.
"Me? Remember what happened last time? I want my morning tea, John!" Sherlock insisted and stood up. He walked around his sleepy flat mate and gave him an estimating look.
"Fine! Just don't start doing your detective stuff on me in the morning!"
"Good, bring me some chlorine too." Some sort of a smile danced on the lips of Sherlock Holmes, when he walked into the kitchen.
"You don't get-" John could say before Sherlock started digging through all of the mess on the table trying to find his phone. The kitchen was still kind of dark and Sherlock couldn't see too well, so the mess got only bigger.
"From a food store…" Watson closed his eyes fore a second before walking back to his room, changing and leaving for the store.
He didn't notice John leaving, because he found his phone. The light shun onto the detectives face, when he started scrolling down his messages. Nothing important, so he headed back to the living room. His shoes didn't make even the slightest of noise as he walked in front of the window. His eyes wondered down to the street, where cars passed by and people lived their daily lives. Sherlock took his violin into his hand and started carefully tuning it.