A/N: So, a new story! A little bit of plot there this time, hope you like it...


"It was an accident, case closed." Sherlock dropped the file on the desk and looked at Detective Inspector Lestrade who was sitting behind his desk, opposite Sherlock. His grey eyes studied the older man and he tilted his head slightly. "Or was it?"

Lestrade leant back and sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "Officially, yes, but… It just doesn't seem like an accident. Those people that went missing..."

"You need me to find out what really happened?" Sherlock asked, emphasising the word 'need' with a smug smile on his face.

Lestrade rolled his eyes but nodded. "That's right." He picked up another file and handed it over to Sherlock. "Here's all the information we've got so far. More detailed, less official. I'd, um, appreciate it if you kept that to yourself. And, well, John of course. I guess that can't be avoided."

Sherlock nodded slightly as took the file, a small smile curving his lips for a second or two. His eyes studied the file curiously for a moment, then he stood up. "I'll look into it." Waving his hand much more cheerfully than would have been decent – with two people dead and three missing – the detective walked out of Lestrade's office and out to the street where he got himself a taxi and drove back to Baker Street. He could feel the excitement flooding in his veins.


John came home fifteen minutes after his flatmate who was already almost invisible behind a pile of books and papers.

"So, a new case?" John enquired, putting a few books aside so he could see Sherlock. He frowned a bit as he recognised the look on the detective's face. It was the look that told John his flatmate wouldn't be eating or sleeping until the case was solved, and that John himself wasn't very likely to get sleep or food either, as the detective usually wanted to have him by his side. He didn't mind it, of course. Going to work after being awake for 48 hours wasn't nice, but being awake with Sherlock was, indeed, nice.

"Can I have a look?" The doctor spotted an important looking document on the table and reached for it. Sherlock nodded absently, his long fingers typing quickly on John's laptop. John decided to ignore Sherlock "borrowing" his stuff again – complaining about it didn't seem to help – and he took the paper which seemed to be the summary of the case.

A car crash, two cars involved. Impossible to say which one caused the accident, it had been dark and the road had been slippery. The driver of car A – a woman in her 30's – died immediately; the passenger in the car survived without serious damage. The driver of car B wasn't injured either but his passengers weren't that lucky – one of them died later in the hospital, her brain virtually smashed out, and the other broke an arm and was taken to the hospital too. Then she disappeared. As did the driver of car B, and the passenger in car A. They were supposed to arrive at a police station the next day but none of them showed up, and when the officers went to their homes they found them deserted, with no signs of the residents leaving in a hurry, or indeed signs of them leaving at all. The woman with the broken arm – Marie something, 29 years old – and the driver – Peter something something, 40 years old – were last seen in the hospital at around 10 pm the night after the accident. The passenger from car A – a woman called Linda – had taken a taxi from the scene of accident at 7:15 pm and no one had seen her since.

"What do you think?"

John looked up from the paper. Sherlock was watching him, head tipped to the side and eyes roaming over his face. John blinked, momentarily confused. "About what?"

Sherlock huffed. "About the case." Obviously, his tone added.

"Oh. Well, um, seems a bit complicated to me."

"If it wasn't complicated I wouldn't have taken the case."

"Yes, of course."

"So?"

"What? You can't expect me to solve this in five minutes."

"I don't. But I want your opinion."

John sighed. Sherlock loved doing this – telling him to deduce something and then proving he was wrong about everything. John absolutely hated it but Sherlock had a special "please?" smile and every time John found himself unable to say no. So, with a heavy sigh, he played along.

"Okay. So there's something suspicious about this accident, right? The people who disappeared didn't just go on a surprise holiday in the Caribbean or something?"

Sherlock nodded encouragingly, which only made John more nervous.

"Well, one driver died and the other one didn't, so I'd say the survivor must have something to do with this? And..." John paused, trying to think like Sherlock. That was obviously never going to happen but you could always hope... "The surviving driver intended to crash into the other car? Because of some old grudge? Maybe she left him?"

John stopped, knowing he had only said what was obvious, not helping with the investigation at all. He looked at Sherlock, who was staring out of the window.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Sherlock looked up and John tried to hide the disappointment in his face. Useless, of course: Sherlock's expression told him the detective hadn't missed a single twitch on his face. "I am, John. You did well."

"No I didn't. You don't have to protect me, Sherlock. I know I always miss everything important and I'm fine with it. "

"I'm not protecting you. You're right, you didn't really discover anything revolutionary but it does not matter."

John huffed. "Yeah, right."

"Really, John. If I wanted everything to be brilliant and groundbreaking I'd work alone, but I don't because I like working with you." He seemed a bit surprised by his own words and quickly returned to studying the mountain of papers surrounding him. John felt just as surprised but couldn't help a small smile rising to his face. "I, um... Thank you."

Sherlock made a little, frustrated noise and waved his hand. The time for emotions and other human things was obviously over now. John put the paper he'd been holding back to the table. "Well, I'll make some dinner – you don't have to eat but I'm starving – and then I'm all yours."

Sherlock looked up at him, one eyebrow raised in what John felt was a suggestive manner.

"Meaning that I'll help you with the case if you need it," John corrected, escaping to the kitchen.


A/N: It's a bit short but the next chapter will be longer... If you're kind enough to review this!