It's like watching a tennis game with these two.

"You don't get it, do you?"

Always back and forth, bickering with one another.

"That you've found yourself a new woman; that you're going to be getting ready to leave soon; that soon, you won't need to accompany me to our cases. I do get it, John. I'd say it's you that doesn't!"

I'm actually surprised they're not at each other's throats already ... then again, even John must know he wouldn't stand much of a chance against Sherlock.

"You're a bloody idiot, Sherlock! You never know when to keep your mouth shut."

He seems quite strong, considering the build of him. I wonder if he'd be pleased with me for deducing that little item about him...

"And you can't seem to control where you place your hands when Miss Morstan pops over- and while we're on that train of thought, it is still my apartment. I was there first."

I'm sure it's not the Queen's English coming from John anymore. Ah, Donovan's walking down the corridor, headed right for this room. If only she hadn't noticed us-

"Freak, Molly needs your assistance with one of the corpses."

"Greg-"

Oh, they've finally realised that I exist- funny that, since they're stood in my office.

"-Will you do me the great honour of restraining your pets? They have no respect for their superiors, it would seem."

Oh, christ...

"No respect? What the bloody hell do you know about respect, Sherlock?"

"Who the hell are you calling a pet, anyway!"

Well done, Sherlock; this is turning into a warzone. I might as well call in Anderson to top it all off...