Chapter 2, please read and review!

John woke with a head sluggish and painful. He pulled himself out of bed and slowly dressed before heading downstairs.

He found Sherlock sitting outside with a black coffee. "What the hell happened last night?" His recollection was jumbled and hazy. He could remember Louise; he could remember it seeming to go well. He could remember arms around him, but their significance he could not.

"Oh, nothing to worry about John. We must get back to London swiftly, cases are waiting." Sherlock was not looking directly at him, rather scanning the other holiday goers with his inscrutable eye.

"So I didn't act like a total tit then?"

"Well, I wouldn't dispute that John."

"What about Loui…?"

But Sherlock was already up and heading for the car. John shook his head, that was that.

Sherlock could tell almost immediately this case was not worth his time.

The woman was in her mid-30's, brown hair, pretty in terms of human convention he supposed. She sat neatly on their sofa, knees together, slightly nervous.

"I've had some jewellery stolen; it was a couple of days ago. The police have been useless so I thought I'd come here."

This sounded dull, Sherlock wasn't really interested in whatever June, Julie, he'd already deleted her name from his mind, was saying.

"Is there anything important about the jewellery stolen?" Sherlock asked. "Is it of high historical importance, tied up in some elaborate Cold War espionage plot?"

The woman stared back at him blankly while John began to furrow his eyebrows in Sherlock's direction.

"Um, no. They have no real importance or value. But sentimentally they are priceless to me."

Sherlock sighed loudly. His meaning could not be misinterpreted as he went to go and stare out of the window instead. He was right; this was clearly not worth his time.

"Sherlock?" he heard John say, he could hear the warning in his voice.

"It's not worth my time John, it's barely scraping a 3/10."

Sherlock stared out of the window, trying to see how much he could deduce from the people walking down the street, stretching his mind to try and discover the inner-most details of a man far down the road he could hardly make out while hoping the woman would just leave.

As he observed the ebb and flow of London Sherlock could hear John talking to the woman. Asking questions, playing the detective now Sherlock had deemed her unimportant. But soon the questions of the case began to turn to general chatter, Sherlock twitched slightly, was John flirting with her?

Sherlock turned, John was. From his body language John clearly found the woman attractive and she seemed to be enjoying the attention. Sherlock turned back to the window; it was unfortunate John wasn't drunk like he had been the other night, giving Sherlock an easy excuse to remove him from that therapist's company before anything had happened.

Sherlock heard John stand; he was offering her tea now. Tea! Oh this truly had gone too far. John's futile attempts at seduction were almost as bad as his futile attempts at deduction.

Sherlock could feel the same emotions stirring in him as when he had seen John with that therapist. Animal instincts he never felt at any other time causing the blood to run faster sending oxygen rushing to his brain. But Sherlock's brain wasn't sharper, the added oxygen didn't cause a swell in his observations of the intricacies around him; it just caused his focus on John to multiply until he could only see him. Great waves of possessiveness rose and crashed through his chest, this had to end. He easily deduced that he would have to remove the woman to alleviate these feelings.

Sherlock turned and grabbed the woman off of the sofa by her arm.

"It was your brother who took them. I just heard you say he works in the city, a banker or perhaps an investor then. Something financial anyway. So, he was probably harmed in the crash. I just heard you say to John that you haven't heard from him much since you mother's death, bitter perhaps, seeing at you inherited this jewelry and he did not. Right so far?" He didn't allow her time to answer as he continued to pull her by the arm towards the stairs, speaking at a million miles a second and drowning out any conversation she attempted with John.

"You are clearly not that intelligent, average IQ, perhaps below. So, your brother isn't too bright either. He took the jewels, believing them to be of great value, idiot. They are probably up on eBay or something seeing as he's an imbecile." He pushed her out of the back door. "Also talking about your dead Mother is a poor way to flirt. Good day." He then duly slammed the door in her face.

He smiled to himself, good, he thought. I have once again saved John from the unwanted persistence of the female sex.

Sherlock turned to see John standing there, a blank look of shock on his face.

"Sherlock, what the bloody hell was that!? You could have at least shown her out of the front door for Christ's sake!"

Sherlock's eyes darkened. He grabbed John by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall of the small hall space, looming down over him. He pinned John there with his eyes, inches from his face so he could feel their breath meeting between them.

He held John there. Sherlock could feel a tension building between their bodies escalated by the increased mingling of their fast breath.

He pulled even closer to John's face, causing those animal instincts which fogged his brain to become even more acute.

"This is a job John." Sherlock managed, growling in a low, menacing voice. "I would implore you to keep that in mind."

Sherlock held John's gaze a few moments longer before releasing him, disappearing up the stairs. The rise of those animal instincts giving him an inhuman swiftness as he tried to shake them out of his body and clear his mind.

John was left trembling and weak against the wall trying to get his breath back.