Sherlock was pouring over photos of crime scenes when John entered the flat.
"Where have you been," Sherlock asked without looking up.
"Out," John replied.
John made tea, and ignored the various body parts in the refrigerator. He acted normal, and Sherlock didn't say anything, also like normal.
Sherlock's phone began to ring, no doubt Lestrade calling about the robbery. He was glad that he had taken the precaution of switching cabs.
The doctor went back to the cluttered sitting room, handing a cup of tea to Sherlock.
"Was that another case?" John asked, faking innocence.
"Yes, there was a robbery at one of those posh jewelry shops uptown. The robber took a show piece necklace worth more than sixty-five thousand pounds. He got in a cab, we're going to look into it after Lestrade brings it in."
John nodded, asked the usual questions about motives, logic, and that sort of thing, before excusing himself off to bed.
John got up in the morning after a night of fitful turning. Standing in the hot shower relaxed his muscles, and after getting dressed, he and Sherlock headed to investigate to cab.
"The hat that the robber wore was still in the cab, along with the necklace when we went in to confiscate it," Lestrade said upon their arrival.
"Were there any fingerprints on either of them," John asked.
"No, the robber wore gloves, and he covered up his tracks well. All we know is that he's Caucasian."
John nodded, "At least it was able to be returned without much hassle."
"What I want to know," said Sherlock, "Is why go through the trouble of stealing a necklace worth so much, and then leave it in the back of a cab?"
"There was this," said Lestrade, holding out a sheet of paper.
Typed in the middle of the page was one sentence, For your amusement, Sherlock.
John thought it would be nice to let him know the robbery was to get his attention. He had also been wearing gloves when he picked it up, Sherlock hadn't been there, and so knew nothing about it coming from their own printer. He had even used a different ink cartridge than the one they usually used.
It was going well to say the least.
The doctor and detective returned to their flat, and Sherlock thought hard over the evidence presented to him, with no idea that his criminal was right next to him.
John knew Sherlock would figure it out, the man was far from stupid. He wouldn't hold it against John, because it was in its essence harmless. The necklace was returned, no one was hurt, and the employee was allowed to keep his job.
But it did what he needed it to do. It would perk Sherlock's curiosity, and then John could get it out and off him that he was tired of being second to Sherlock's work.
That night, he fell asleep to the sound of Sherlock playing his violin, the perfect lullaby.