A dark shadow hides behind the corner of the building. It watchfully prowls along the wall as a taxi arrives, dropping off its last passenger for the night.
"Thanks for the lift. Oh, no problem. Yes, you too, have a good night!"
The man slams the door shut then stumbles along as he searches for the key to his flat. Heading towards the door, he spots someone to his right.
"Hello there," the shadow says as it emerges in the dim light. The man squints his eyes, not quite able to make out the face.
"Um, hello? Who are you? You sound just like. . . ."
His mysterious visitor grins.
"Yes, I bet you weren't expecting to see me ever again, especially since that last time. Hello Oscar."
John was typing up a new post on his blog again, and the incessant clacking noise was beginning to get on Sherlock's nerves. He closed his eyes for the thousandth time, trying to focus. He breathed calmly, inhaling then exhaling, inhale, exhale, inha. . . . .
"John."
"Hmm?" John didn't look up from his computer screen, constantly tapping away at the keyboard.
"John, will you stop with that noise please."
"What? Why?" He looked up rather puzzled, but Sherlock continued to talk with his eyes closed, ignoring him.
"Because I'm trying to think."
"About what?"
Sherlock raised a finger. "Not 'about what', John. I'm trying not to think about how bored I am."
"Mhmm. . . ." John went back to typing. "And is it working?"
"NO!" Sherlock jumped up suddenly and began pacing the floor. "No John, it's not working and I really must say, I wonder why?" He stared pointedly at John's fingers and his laptop. John didn't look up at him.
"Sherlock, just um, go check the newspapers or something. I'm busy."
"With what?" Sherlock made a point not to look at John either when he went and picked up a newspaper.
"I have to write the post about our last case. My girlfriend likes it."
"Oh, she likes your weak sentence structure and poor vocabulary choice? That's a surprise."
"Hey, I don't have . . . whatever." Sherlock just nodded in response as he scanned the papers. Boring, boring, mostly everything boring.
Except. . . .
"Listen to this," he said, hanging the paper in front of John's face. "'A man who was reported missing last month has suddenly reappeared dead in his own apartment.' A man named Oscar Colchester." Oscar Colchester?
"John, does that sound familiar to you?"
"Mmm, no. Not really. Will you move that newspaper away from my screen now?"
"Hm." Sherlock paused. "Then why does it sound familiar to me?"
Beep beep.
'Could you please come to the morgue? It's important. – Molly'
"John, it looks like we might have another case on our hands."