Notes: thanks again for the amazin Asian-Inkwell who took upon her time to beta this multichapter fic.

I have a Britpicker, now! Huge thanks to Hamstermoon on AO3 who offered her (indeed needed) help!

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Chapter 1

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"This is completely stupid! This is the stupidest thing you've ever done!"

"Still, you let me do it."

Without stopping his running, John turned to Sherlock who was close beside him, reproach on his lips. The rain beat furiously around them, straight and thick, but they hardly seemed to care.

They ran through Marble Arch without stopping, crossing the path of a night owl who was hurrying to return home, and went up along Great Cumberland Place. Doubled up with a stitch, John was soon forced to slow down. Hands clutching his knees, he fell against a wall, his breathing erratic.

"Enough," he hissed between his clenched teeth. "We stop here. Anyway, I think we've lost them."

The surroundings were empty at this hour and in this weather. A few windows were lit, but the footpaths were deserted. The rain was still falling as if to plunge the street into shades of blue-gray, their soaked clothes stuck to their skin, but no revolving lights appeared.

"Damn!" John swore, his hand pressed to his aching ribs. "Why did you have to insult the witness?"

"His stupidity was equaled only by his blindness!" Sherlock protested. "He had all the elements under his nose and he barely had noticed them."

"Not everyone has your fabulous capacities of observation, Sherlock!" John retorted furiously. "Because of you, now, not only did we have to leave the crime scene, but we also have no idea what happened!"

They stood motionless, beaten by the rain, with John slowly catching his breath. They waited for the appearance of a tricolour car crowned with blue light, but no vehicle came.

Sherlock kept his eyes fixed on the end of the street a few seconds then realized they were alone. John, who was breathing again normally, approached him.

"Come on, Sherlock, we should go. We've done enough for tonight."

Sherlock sided with his opinion. He nodded, and then, the neck pulled in their shoulders, both walked away in the rain.

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They arrived at Baker Street drenched. Sherlock had raised the collar of his coat, but the effort had turned out to be useless. They entered hastily, water dripping from their clothes and cascading to their feet. The lights were off at Mrs. Hudson's flat, so they quietly went up the stairs as not to wake her.

John took off his shoes on arrival in the lounge while Sherlock hung his coat and immediately headed for the bathroom. Meanwhile, John went to his room to undress and put his dressing gown waiting for his turn for the shower. Hoping that Sherlock would not have taken all the hot water…

When he came out, the kettle was already on. Sherlock was in his pyjamas and dressing gown, looking at his computer.

"Hacking Scotland Yard again?" John guessed.

"I can't believe they missed the lipstick on the rim of the basin!" Sherlock exclaimed. "It was right in front of their eyes!"

John opened a cupboard, taking a tea bag that he slipped into his mug, and poured the boiling water.

"Maybe they thought it had a perfectly good reason to be there," he suggested.

"What kind of woman forgets her lipstick, John?"

"Perhaps the victim kept it?"

Sherlock looked up at him, frowning with an idea that his brain refused to consider.

"Why would he do that?"

John gave him a smile in reply and sat down in his armchair.

"Because there are people, men and women, who like to keep a souvenir of their affairs. I had a fellow in medicine, who kept girl's hair ties. It could be an elastic band or a hairslide."

"Fetish?"

John shook his head.

"Not especially. Not even another notch on his bedpost. For him, it meant that they were important."

Sherlock shrugged, holding a scathing statement, then went back to his computer.

"It's a shame they spotted us," he said regretfully, "I wanted to have a closer look at the bathroom. I feel that this is where the biggest clues are likely to be gathered. They should analyze the tub, look for traces of DNA, probe pipes, I'm sure there's a lot more to learn from the pipes."

John listened without saying a word. He slowly sipped his tea, listening to the rain outside as a gust of wind sent it to beat against the windows. Sherlock continued to read the new facts of the case, dropping an observation from time to time that sounded like sarcasm.

Eventually Sherlock finished sending his notes to Lestrade and as he did so John stood up.

"I'm going to bed", he said. "I suppose you'll want to go around the crime scene again tomorrow."

"Very likely, indeed."

"Well, see you tomorrow, then."

And John went to bed.

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Note: back again! This chapter is a bit short, but it'll get better, promise! Update every thursday.

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