So, this is my first Sherlock fic that I'm determined to start and to finish, I really hope you guys enjoy this as much as I do! So that you all know, the writing that's in italics are the character's thoughts. Mainly Sherlock's but it could be John's. You'll know who's who. The italic-bold writing is just a bit of a foreshadow, don't pay too much attention to it. I may not be able to update on consecutive days or weeks as I've got a few Summer trips coming up. I'll do my best to make up for it though! I don't own the characters, they belong to BBC Sherlock and are not mine. Once again, I hope you enjoy! Reviews are much appreciated, thank you!

What would you think if I sang out of tune,

Would you stand up and walk out on me.

Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,

And I'll try not to sing out of key.

"So John... How's Mary doing? I heard that you're planning on proposing." The detective inspector asked whilst he waited for Sherlock to make his deductions upon the case at the scene.

A limp and mangled dead man's body lay before Sherlock as he moved about, sniffing and observing to find clues. It didn't take too long before he came up with enough information to go on while John blabbed on about this and that of Mary. It was tedious and uninteresting to hear about a woman that he had contempt upon.

After a moment or two, Sherlock interrupted and spoke about the case and about what he'd found.

"Well, it's obvious that the man was shot and stabbed before he was pushed off the ninth floor ledge. It's too easy, there's obvious fingerprints on the dead man's clothing, there's oil prints on them, indicating that the killer worked at someplace near oil and there are also some prints on the ledge after he'd thrown off the body. The weight is nearly too heavy for him to push off without falling over himself, which was why he stopped himself with the ledge." Sherlock spoke and demonstrated as if he was the killer pushing the victim over and stopping himself with the invisible ledge before him. "So, I'm sure you can find the killer with the prints. As for the victim, he died from the stab wound, not the shot wound. As you see, he was shot in the side but stabbed in the back, it collided with his T3 vertebrae and separated completely at the intervertebral disk, but he was still breathing until the killer picked him up which caused his spinal cord to snap at the disk completely and that was when he died. Unfortunately for our victim, he's a tourist. Perhaps he was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

As soon as Sherlock was done, John started talking about his previous date and his plans on how to propose. This caused a flash of hurt and sadness to cross his face, coming out as a grimace. Of course, the inspector didn't miss this obvious emotion from Sherlock that John had overlooked.

Instead of waiting for John to finish his chat about his so-called girlfriend, Sherlock turned to head back to the flat, finding it inconvenient to waste his time listening to non-stop useless conversations.

Before he could even get in the cab that he'd hailed down however, he heard Lestrade's voice calling out his name and the voice was coming closer towards him.

"Can we grab a drink as soon as we finish up here? I think it's time we talked. John's got a date so don't worry about him. Just you and I. Alright?" Lestrade confirmed and walked off to help with the cleanup of the crime scene before Sherlock could get a reply in. By that time, John was already gone.

Sherlock decided to stay for now so he could catch a ride with Lestrade to the bar since it'd be a waste of time to go home because by the time he'd get home, it'd be time to leave to meet Lestrade. It would just be a waste of time and money.

An hour and a half later, Lestrade and Sherlock was sitting at the bar, drinking a pint of beer and some vodka, perhaps a shot or two to start off with. It took approximately ten minutes before Sherlock finally got tired of waiting and jumped right into it.

"So, I see you have an idea or some kind of reason that you want me here and to talk to me... What is it?" Sherlock asked out of curiosity, needing to know for his own sake.

"Well... Yes, you're right that I do have an idea and a reason to have you here now... It's about John." Lestrade paused to see his reaction, curious to see what he'd do, then continued when he knew he'd gotten Sherlock's full attention. "I can tell that you despise Mary and the thought of John being with her. You grimaced earlier when he cut you off on listing your deductions with more talk of Mary."

Lestrade stopped to take a large swig of his beer before he carried on telling him of his thoughts. "Anyways, my idea was that you could do things per week for John, like cleaning the flat and... Try to prove yourself better and show that you really do care about him more than Mary does and perhaps he'll find his way back to you instead. It cannot be something you do all the time, it needs to be something that you don't do often. It has to last at least a month though, one or more things per week and you have to stick with it through the whole seven days. I'm going to make a bet and if you manage to do the whole thing right to the end then you win, if not... I win. Say... A hundred pounds?"

Slowly, Sherlock took his time over a few sips and gulps to think about it before he decided. "Five hundred and you're on. What happens if John doesn't come back to me?"

"We'll have to see when the time comes, won't we? Our bet doesn't have anything to do with John, even if he comes back or not, it doesn't affect our bet. You choose what you do per week though. Keep me updated on it in any way you like whatsoever." Lestrade slurred just a bit.

"Oh, and Sherlock? If you need any help with anything, then let me know, I won't hesitate to help, it won't affect the bet either, I promise." Lestrade added after a moment as Sherlock downed the last of his drink.

"Don't worry Lestrade, I'll figure it out." Sherlock mumbled as he stood. "After all, I'm the one who wants John back." With that, the consulting detective slipped on his coat and managed to saunter out without a stumble.

After Sherlock had slipped from Lestrade's sight, he muttered under his breath to himself. "For your own sake, you're not the only one who wants John back with you, Sherlock."

With that, the older man finished his drink and also left the bar.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.

Written by LZ