Disclaimer: Still at home…not leaving until the kids get out of school on the 23rd. And I still don't own anything. Really. Not even a car. Or a TV. Though I do own my computer so I guess I own something just not the characters. And I'm still poor.

A/N: So I was having trouble with where this story was going. It was supremely annoying and so I came back to this chapter and revised it. This chapter has added parts and the rest will be completely deleted and rewritten. Let me know what you think.

The Scene

Sherlock took the now damp towel from John's hands and tossed it to a passing constable. He took John's hand in his own and turned to Sally. "So, what have you got?" He asked her.

Sally shrugged. "Don't know," she confessed. "I had only just arrived when the DI sent me out to wait for you."

Sherlock stared at her intently. "Usually he at least gives you a briefing before sending you to wait for us." He muttered.

Sally scowled harshly at him. "Yeah, well, this time he didn't all right? And no I don't know why. If I did then he'd have briefed me, wouldn't he?"

Sherlock suddenly smirked at her. "You were late." He said with relish. "You were late and he didn't have time to brief you before we got here. Now, why were you late? There had to be a reason. Did you have a date? No," he said with a look at her skirt. "Not a date. You were at home…doing what though." He reached forward and pulled a lock of her hair from the side of her head. "Shower? No. You were taking a bath and had the radio up too loud to hear the phone."

Sally swatted his hand from her hair. "Knock it off, Freak. Yes I was in the bath and yes my music was loud not that it matters any. I was supposed to be off tonight."

John stepped in between them and glared at them both. "You're wasting time, children," he told them. "We can easily go in and ask Greg what's going on, can't we? I would suggest doing that instead of sniping at each other."

"Fine," they said in unison and then scowled at each other again.

John chuckled under his breath and stepped away from them and towards the office where he figured he'd find Greg. "Come on then, you two."

They followed him obediently still glaring at each other. Attracted by the sounds and lights of the Yarders at the scene Sherlock wandered off towards the dead body in the middle of the room to the right and Sally shook her head. He'd at least be kept out of trouble for a few minutes. "Freak's found a toy, Dr. John," she told John.

John glanced back at his husband and sighed. "He always does, Sgt. Sally, but you knew that already, didn't you?" He stopped a few feet from the door to the office and looked over his shoulder at her with a searching gaze. "What's wrong with you tonight? I know you and Sherlock aren't friends but I thought you'd gotten past the irrational animosity."

Sally gave him a half-hearted glare and then wrapped her arms around herself in a tight grip. "You've been spending too much free time with him," she huffed and then shook her head. "I don't know, actually," she muttered almost too softly for him to hear. "There's something wrong tonight and I don't know what it is."

John put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, his hazel eyes understanding. "I know." He said softly with a glance towards the room where he could hear his husband. "Sherlock's been…fidgety all day as well."

Sally snorted at being compared to the Freak but nodded anyway. "I don't like this, Dr. John. This rain and then there's stupid Anderson and now this. Ian's supposed to be doing a show here soon, I think. He's been out of cell range for the past week and I haven't been able to contact him for the details."

John frowned and looked around the hallway they were in. Unfortunately there were no paintings here. He squeezed Sally's shoulder again. "I'm sure he's fine, Sgt. Sally. What's this about Anderson?"

Sally nodded again. "I hope you're right about Ian, Dr. John," she said. "And Anderson's just being himself. Why didn't I see what an arse he was before you told me?" She shook off the thought, uncrossed her arms and tilted her head up defiantly. "Shall I collect the Freak or do you want to?"

John frowned at her. "Why do you keep calling him that?" He asked in a hard tone.

Sally shrugged. "I told you this before, Dr. John and you know I don't mean it in a cruel way anymore. It just kind of fits him, you know?" Brown eyes met hazel.

John sighed. "I know." He paused for a moment. "I think this day is getting to all of us, Sgt. Sally. Sherlock isn't bothered by that name and neither am I usually. Just today…" he paused again.

"There is something wrong in the air today," a baritone voice said from behind them suddenly. "There's too much electricity from the storms and it's putting everyone on edge."

They both spun around and Sally let out a small yelp of surprise. "Don't do that, Freak!" She yelled with one hand over her heart. "Learn to make some noise when you move."

Sherlock gave her a predatory grin. "Why would I want to do that? Silent movement is very useful at times."

John scowled at him. "Only if you are trying to give your husband a heart attack, you wanker."

Sherlock sent him an innocent smile. "I would never do such a thing, John. I am quite attached to my husband."

"Though trying to give an innocent Detective Sargent one is not beyond your capabilities, I'm sure," Sally snorted.

Sherlock sent his innocent smile to her now. "You find me an innocent Detective Sargent and I'll do my best to scare them into a heart attack, Donovan."

"You think you're so funny," Sally scowled at him.

"Children," John said warningly before they could start snapping at each other again. "Don't make me go find Anderson so the two of you can gang up on him."

They both glared at him for a moment. Sally took a calming breath. "What did you get off the body?" She finally asked Sherlock.

Sherlock frowned back at the gallery. "I don't have enough information yet to draw any correct conclusions. I need to get the details from Lestrade before I can connect what I've seen with anything tangible."

Sally's jaw dropped in astonished wonder. "The Great Sherlock Holmes doesn't know? He needs to talk to an actual person to find the information? Whatever is the world coming to?"

"Yes," Sherlock answered primly. "Why are you so shocked? You've seen me asking John what he thinks and I've even asked you or Lestrade on occasion. Did you think I did it to show you how idiotic you were?"

Sally cocked her head to the side and gazed at him steadily. "Yes, actually, I did think that. Do you mean you weren't?"

There was a light flush on Sherlock's cheekbones and he couldn't quite meet Sally's eyes. "Well, I was but I was also cataloging information to help me solve whatever case we were working on."

"Hunh," Sally grunted. "Learn something new every day, don't you? Do you want Dr. John to look at the vic or do you want to see Lestrade and the witness?"

Sherlock's lazy posture switched with a swiftness that boggled the mind to extreme alertness. "Witness? What witness? Lestrade didn't say anything about a witness when he texted. Name? Who is it? What did they see? Donovan! Answer me!"

Sally blinked at him for a moment as Sherlock looked ready to commit violence to obtain the information from her. "I would if you'd actually speak English, Freak."

"What?" Sherlock nearly took a step away from her in his surprise.

John laid a comforting hand on his back. "You were speaking too fast, Sherlock," he told him. "I'm the only person that can understand you when you speak that fast. Now, slow down and repeat what you said."

Sherlock huffed in irritation. "What do you know about the witness?" He directed to Sally.

Sally shrugged. "Nothing," she answered calmly. "I only know that there is one and Lestrade's talking to them."

Sherlock huffed again and then strode to the office door. "Then why are we standing here? Come along; let's go talk to this witness."

Sally and John shook their heads in exasperation and followed Sherlock into the small cramped office. Sally took one look at the two occupants and gasped in shock. "Ian?"