Author Note: I will get to some actual 'plot' and crime at some point. I meant to do it here...but then I got distracted with John/Sherlock banter. Trying a new fandom is like trying out a new car, you just want to have fun with it at first before you worry about it taking you places.

Sherlock: Chasing the Dragon

Chapter two, Time Files

It was nearly eleven at night when John made it back to Baker street. The previously relentless rain had finally given in a few hours ago. Stepping into the entrance way John hung up his coat. He looked down and saw Sherlock's still damp clothes discarded in a heap, showing that he had broken down before the rain had stopped and stepped out. John just hopped that his absent minded flat mate had gone to the trouble of getting dressed again after coming in from the storm.

Exhausted from the events of the day John tried to just make his way across the living room and upstairs into his own bedroom before Sherlock noticed. John assumed that Sherlock still didn't have a case since he hadn't texted him all day. Right now a case-less Sherlock was the last thing John wanted to deal with.

Sherlock had managed to dress himself and was sitting cross legged on the couch with John's computer on his lap. Staring intently at the glowing screen Sherlock looked completely unaware of his surroundings. John whisper a short thanks to God and headed across the living room.

"Well?" Sherlock asked expectantly without looking up.

John stopped in his tracks and shook his head sadly. If he just kept going there was a good chance that Sherlock would just follow him upstairs and insist on conversing. It was best to just get it over with.

"Well what?" John asked with little enthusiasm.

"What do you think of my idea? Go on, I value your opinion."

"No you don't." John corrected. "Besides, I don't know what your idea is. I only just got home."

"Ah."

"'Ah'." John repeated in irritation. "Why can't you take the time to glance around and make sure that I'm even in the room before you try talking to me?"

"You were here when I started talking, I can't help it if you lost your focus."

"I've been gone all day and half the night. You didn't notice you were alone in all that time?"

John already knew the answer to his frustrated question, but he was in a bad mood and Sherlock failing to notice he was gone irritated him more than usual. The tone in John's voice caused Sherlock to bring his eyes up off the computer screen. John shifted his weight uncomfortably as Sherlock ran his trained eyes over him briefly.

"Did you end things or did she?" Sherlock asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Sara." Sherlock clarified. "You were at the Surgery all day, saw six maybe seven patients. One of them had something particularly contagious, your fingernails are much cleaner than usual meaning you gave your hands a good scrub. Although you really should do that after all your patients, but we both know you don't, possibly because you were used to much filthier conditions with a limited water supply in Afghanistan. Afterward you took Sara out to dinner, I'm guessing to the near by organic because they are one of the few places that guarantees no peanut products seeing as Sara is deathly allergic. Going back to her place you had a roll in the sheets and shortly after had a fight that lead you to come back home."

"I thought I asked you not to do your 'observations' on me anymore."

"Can't help it. Try looking at a clock and not discovering what time it is." Sherlock replied honestly. "Perhaps it was the lackluster sex that lead her to decide against seeing you again."

"Lackluster?" John repeated indigently. "What would you know of..."

"Well if you had given it your all you would have fallen asleep afterwards, now wouldn't you? Then you wouldn't have been awake to have the fight that caused her to kick you out, and I would have remained sitting here talking to myself." Sherlock continued. "It's for the best anyway. You've been having thoughts of ending your association with both Sara and the Surgery for quite some time now."

"Bloody hell, Sherlock, you are a..."

"Genius."

"A git!"

"Oh come on, John, you and I both knew from the moment it started that your relationship with Sara was doomed to failure."

"Why because she almost got killed because of you?" John snarled.

"No." Sherlock shrugged. "Because she has a cat."

"Sorry...what?" John asked having been caught off guard by the statement.

"A cat. It never would have worked between you. I assumed you already knew and that you were just having a bit of fun."

"I still don't understand what her cat has to do with anything."

"You're a dog person, Sara is a cat person." Sherlock explained simply. "Cats and dogs don't mix."

"I don't have a dog." John pointed out.

"It has nothing to do with actually owning a pet. It is your most fundamental personality traits that cause you to choose between cats and dogs. I didn't make the rules, John, that's just the way the world works. There are only two kinds of people in the world: dog people and cat people."

"What are you then?"

"Cat person." Sherlock replied without hesitation. "Cats are graceful, intelligent, independent creatures that don't take orders."

"So then by your own 'deductive' reasoning things between you and I won't work out either."

"We're not in a relationship."

"Of course we are, friendship is by definition a relationship."

"That's different. You and I are different."

"Why"

"Because you are dependent on me."

John took a breath to protest, but before he could Sherlock gasped sharply.

"What is it? What's wrong?" John asked.

"Good Lord, what time is it?" Sherlock said as he looked as his bare wrist with a furrowed brow.

"Sherlock," John sighed "you don't wear a watch."

"Why not?"

"You always say time is irrelevant."

"Well it has become most relevant."

Sherlock got to his feet and stepped forward in a way that John knew if he didn't move that his friend would just knock into him. As John stepped out of the way Sherlock reached out and unlatched John's watch with the practiced ease of a life long pick pocket. John didn't even realized he'd been mugged until he saw Sherlock securing the watch on his wrist.

"Sherlo..."

"I have to go."

"Go where?"

"No Where."

"No where?"

"Yes...and I'm late."