It was late before the two men returned back to their flat at 221B Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson's light was off, signaling that she'd turned in for the evening, and Emma's lights were dark as well.
"I'm knackered. I'll see you in the morning," said John while yawning and he went straight to his room. He didn't bother to see what Sherlock was going to do. His friend had such unpredictable habits that John had given up trying to make sense of them.
As it turned out, Sherlock had business of his own to attend to. Once he was sure that John was settled in bed, he quietly left the flat and headed to the alley below, where Mrs. Hudson kept the trash bins for all the tenants. He began the unpleasant task of picking through the bags to determine which one belonged to Emma. He donned his latex gloves and braced himself against the odor of the opened bins. Once he determined which bags were hers, he began combing through the contents. He came across some bits of paper and pulled from his pocket the small silver magnifying glass/light that John had given him. He smiled at John's gift and thought how handy it actually was, but he would never tell him that.
Just as he stuffed the paper into his pocket he heard a car pull up to the street front. He stayed in the shadows and watched a blonde man of medium build step out of a cab. The man looked around nervously and then entered the front door, with a key. The cab pulled away and Sherlock edged to the front of the building once he was sure the man was inside. Suddenly, the light came on in 221C.
"Interesting," breathed Sherlock quietly to himself. After a few moments, Sherlock re-entered the building via the back entrance just in case anyone from inside was watching.
Once inside, Sherlock fired up his computer and began typing furiously, hot on the trail of some interesting piece of information. As with anything that piqued his interest and staved off the boredom that he hated, he was tireless in his study of it and never actually went to bed. He dozed on and off sitting upright at the kitchen table until John found him the next morning, still dressed and sitting in front of the laptop that had long since gone into sleep mode.
"Sherlock," said John into his friend's ear. There was no response.
"Sherlock," he said, a bit louder this time. His friend jerked awake and
took a few moments to orient himself to his surroundings.
"Morning, John," replied Sherlock as if there were nothing out of the ordinary. In fact this wasn't really out of the ordinary as far as Sherlock was concerned.
"Are you working on Lestrade's case?" asked John noncommittally as he searched the still-empty fridge.
"Lestrade's case?" asked Sherlock, as if he had no idea what John was talking about. "Ah, yes, Lestrade's case. Maybe."
John looked befuddled but shook it off.
"We need some groceries," he said said off-hand. "There's nothing for breakfast again."
"Might you pick up some wine and cheese when you go?" asked Sherlock, fully expecting John to do the shopping. He never volunteered to do this task and John knew that no amount of complaining would change that fact.
"Wine and cheese?" asked John. "What for?"
"I think it's time we get to know our new neighbor," he said lightly.
John stood there blinking. "I thought you didn't do that sort of thing."
"I changed my mind. Wine and cheese please. My card's on the counter."
Rather than fight the unfathomable, John grabbed the debit card off the counter and headed out to the small grocery store just down the block.
"Be back in a few," said John to an unhearing Sherlock, who was already typing so furiously, John wondered how his keyboard was still in tact.
As he walked towards the outer door, Emma came out of her door at the same time, surprised by John's presence there.
"Oh, hello!" she said, clearly startled.
"Hello," said John smiling. She was quite pretty, but John thought she wore far too much make-up. It seemed to be more common among trendy metropolitan women.
"Sherlock and I were wondering if there would be a good time to get together? We'd like to get to know you better," he said, feeling slightly awkward, but always hopeful for an eventual date. Emma didn't respond right away, as if she were taken aback, but quickly recovered.
"Um", she answered. "I guess I'm free tonight. My place isn't really in a state fit to entertain, though. I could come to your place."
"Nonsense, "laughed John. We can help you if there's anything that needs doing. Let's say seven-ish? We'll bring the wine & cheese, of course," offered John.
"I guess I'll be expecting you then," she said haltingly.
"Excellent," said John. They both made their way out of the door together, Emma hailing a cab and John continuing on foot towards the grocer's. He couldn't help but pick up on a certain hesitancy on her part, but that was probably because of Sherlock's churlish behavior thus far. He'd have to bludgeon his friend with rules of proper engagement which Sherlock would promptly ignore. He sighed a big sigh. It promised to be an interesting evening if nothing else.