"John, come here." A groan erupts from the doctor's mouth as he walks to where Sherlock seems so fascinated with a spot on the kitchen floor.

"Yes Sherlock? And if you're going to show me another burnt, dissected finger I'm going to throw it across the room," he mutters. Sherlock merely squats onto the floor and picks up a slip of paper.

"Read this out loud," he says simply. Watson lifts up the paper, no bigger then a postage stamp with incredibly small words written delicately onto it.

"holmes. there will be a murder in front of an abandoned warehouse. stop it."

"I believe the same person who tried to save Stenson is hoping we'll stop another murder." John looks at Sherlock, seeing a devious smirk on his face. John flips the paper over, but finds no hints of where it may have come from.

"But they must be incredibly shy to keep up with the tiny notes," John mutters. The detective waves him off with a hand, his mind working.

"I believe we can meet this person. They seem very set on getting at least one person saved, since Stenson was left dead and they found a different way to get this person saved. I believe that maybe they had heard about Stenson's murder and, unable to stop it, had managed to also stumble upon another murder. The guilt ate their minds up so they went to the thing they thought this way would be the best. But, why not go to the police? If they know about me, than most surely know there are easier ways to report a possible murder. So, they don't want to be known and we need to find out why."

Sherlock then stands up and grabs a pencil. John hands the paper to the open hand, which Sherlock takes and writes on the back. After he finished, the paper is place back in John's hands, who reads it with a ghost of a smile.

"You really want to know why they do this?" John asks. He gets a nod. The paper is set on the floor, the question facing up.

"Of course Watson. This is exciting! A new mystery!" The doctor only smiles as he heads to his room.

"Don't scare them off Holmes. Not everyone appreciates science." Sherlock immediately follows him, ranting on how science is the most important thing of mankind!

SRSRSRSRSR

As Jace watches the men look at his note, he sighs at how complicated his situation is.

The police is a no go because of number of reasons:

1. too many people.

2. no one would pay attention to a tiny piece of paper, even if it does have the word murder.

3. the biggest he can write would never in a lifetime be seen at a quick glance.

4. there are too many steps to the top of the latter. one little piece of a tip would take too long to get looked into and cleared.

Lastly, Sherlock is right. The people at Scotland Yard aren't the brightest of the bunch. They dismiss useful evidence without so much as an arm.

He flinches as Sherlock kneels down again, but this time the paper is placed back in the spot it was found. Confused, Jace waits for the two to leave, then bolt into the open. He looks at the paper, then sprints right back into the shadows under the cabinet.

Staying as low as he can, Jace runs into a small hole in the wood, walking through a tunnel and finally into the walls.

In the half day he's been here in 221 B, Jace found a perfect place to just rest whenever he wasn't looking out for Holmes and John, who's name he finally found out. At the moment it only holds tiny slips of paper, like the one he left as a note, and his supply of newly borrowed food. It was near the fridge, so it resided behind the kitchen cabinets. He actually liked where it was, considering its many escape routes and how close it is to the stove and oven, keeping the cold nights far away.

Jace jogs lightly into the web-less space thankfully not invaded by wooden beams. He sighs as he plops in front of his stock of paper, rubbing his face.

What did they killer look like? kept appearing in his mind.

Thing was, he couldn't really tell what they looked like. He was too busy being out of sight. Grabbing a sheet, Jace begins to write what he remembered, such as his coat and his job description.

sniper. grey coat. lives in terrible conditions and a large white dog. was hired by a business owner, white coat.

Jace looks back at his work and sighs. It has to be enough. If what he saw Holmes do proved anything, it's that he can figure out which warehouse, when, and who will do it. With that, Jace carefully rips the paper and runs back to where the first note lays.

He makes sure no noise is heard, but it's night time, making his mission easy to complete with the two humans going to bed. All too soon he ducks under the cabinet on the tile floor.

Only problem was, the light overhead was on.

"So if I add this chemical, then that would become a mutation that would look like poison berries, yet be of the assistance of a different source." Sherlock mutters softly, moving from a microscope, to his notebook, back to the scope.

Jace gulps, but as he lays on his stomach, sliding the note out into the open to be seen was as easy as pie. With a smirk, he begins to get up when Holmes steps up to the paper.

Not a single muscle moves, not a single breath, as Sherlock bends down to read the note. As Jace breathes quietly, ever so carefully, Sherlock begins to think of how the messenger managed to get a another note out so quickly? It seemed impossible. And, if he was correct, the mystery person did just now, when he say movement out of the corner of his eye.

"Sherlock?" another voice rings. The man in question stands up, a stone face set on his features.

"John, aren't you to be asleep," Holmes states.

"Well yes, but I was promised you'd actually try and get some sleep tonight. None in five days straight is bad for health, even for you," John answers. As they talk, Jace breathes out, so relieved John came in to stop his discovery. He then races back to the hole not wanting anymore close calls, disappearing into the night.

"Fine John, I'll come and sleep." Sherlock then scribbles a question on the paper and slides it to the ground, next to the other paper.

"They already came back?"

"Yes, and while I was here too. I don't know how they're doing this John, but this may be a what more than a who."

John looks at Sherlock, thinking of how on Earth someone could possibly get a message into the kitchen, and on Sherlock's watch. But, even if they can't meet this person, Watson will make sure his flat mate will listen to the first note, not forgetting why this came about in the first place.