221b Baker Street looked solemn and lonely in the bleak weather that now settled onto its details. Heavy, relentless clouds and rain that would occasionally pour and then more commonly patter at the city's windows were persistent all that day as Sherlock noticed. Of course there was very little he didn't notice, as anybody who's met him understands. John was settled quite comfortably in an armchair by Holmes's couch, blogging about his flat mate's habits after he solves a case, and sipping a cup of earl grey happily. Sherlock, wearing his pajamas and his deep crimson silk robe, was draped - as he almost always is after breakfast – on his 'thinking' couch.
"The one-eyed man did it." Sherlock yelled from his position, taking John by surprise who jumped a little and spilled tea on his keyboard.
"Goodness, Sherlock! What are you on about?!" Watson cried, frowning and wiping down his laptop with the sleeve of his jumper. Sherlock looked over his shoulder at John as if he was speaking a different language, or wondering how his precious little mind could be so narrow minded sometimes.
"Come on, John" Sherlock sighed, "slight smell of strawberry soap in the man's hair, the almost imperceptible limp, the detection of small blond hairs on his shirt. Do you actually see anything when we interview these pedestrians?" He added shortly.
Watson scowled over at the grumpy consulting detective; he knew Sherlock could be abrasive at best in the mornings. "All right," he said, straining patience. "Are you talking about the case with the hysterical wife or the…" Sherlock jumped up from his couch and ran a hand through his tousled hair.
"NO, no, no, no, the rabbit disappearance case of course." Exclaimed Holmes as he started to pace the floor of 221b, his hands folded behind his back. Watson placed his cup of tea on the side table and a hand to his head trying to mentally follow his friend, Sherlock could be both incredibly impressive and incredibly annoying at times.
"Didn't you say that case was, um…I think you said: 'an example of the petty differences of preconceived human societies rules and regulations'?" John took his hand away from his eyes and led his gaze up to Sherlock, he was staring back at John. Something about the way that Sherlock was just standing in front of him, hands still behind his back, staring at him softly but with his piercing, blue eyes, made Watson feel as if there was something Sherlock was hiding. Sherlock cleared his throat.
"Yes, of course I said that because it is an example of the petty differences of preconceived human societies rules and regulations." he sat back down on his couch with his elbows on his knees, eyes closed and rubbing his temples slowly. Watson shook his head, 'what is he going on about?' he thought.
"Uh, right then. So, um… do you want me to tell the old lady that the rabbits she owned were kidnapped by the one-eyed man?" He said, trying to stifle a laugh. Sherlock opened his eyes and placed his fingertips on his mouth, concentrating on the opposite wall.
"The one-eyed man and the old woman were having an affair, but of course he only pursued a relationship to gain entranced into her financial accounts, the rabbits were a way…"
Before Sherlock could finish his examination of the one-eyed, rabbit kidnapping case, there was a knock at the door and Detective Inspector Lestrade strode into the apartment followed by Mrs. Hudson.