A/N This time I decided I should do Sherlock's POV. Feel free to PM me with any prompts anyone might have. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Oops! I didn't do one before. Well, I am not Steven Moffat because if I was there would be more than 3 episodes. So, yeah. I don't own anything.

He thinks better out loud.

But everyone is so unbearably noisy.

Breathing, moving, fidgeting, shuffling, thinking, sighing, talking...

Just shut up!

So, since the drooling masses that currently inhabited London couldn't just stop and think instead of movingmovingmoving he would just have to find something that didn't move to talk to.

Answer: Skull.

It did attract quite a fair bit of unwanted attention, but it was always there and never butted in with idiotic suggestions or scold him if he was behaving 'inappropriately'.

Unlike John.

John wouldn't stop moving and always butted in and was always wearing that look of resignation and reprimand if he did the 'wrong' thing.

Sometimes he just wanted to wipe that look off of his face with his fists.

And now John was at Sarah's because of something Sherlock did or didn't do and really it just doesn't matter anyway.

He isn't there and Sherlock can't think.

He should be able to. Much, much better than if he was there because John was annoying and dull and slow.

Sometimes.

He sighed, putting every ounce of irritation and annoyance into it as he could.

Perhaps talking to Skull would help.

He hadn't left.

So he sat there for a while, on the couch in his bathrobe and pajamas, skull in hand.

Just...talking.

Skull only smiled back.

Grudgingly, Sherlock offered it a quicksilver grin.

It wasn't until the next day when John had come back...come home...that he figured out how someone could murder their fiancee with a toothbrush and a spray-paint can.

He had been pacing.

Movingmovingmoving...

Because that's what John did, right?

He moved just like all the other 'normal' people. Maybe if he just moved enough he could think, because sitting still was boring and Skull was irritatingly silent.

Not that it ever wasn't, despite what people said he wasn't a crazed psychopath.

Highly functioning Sociopath, thank you very much.

He hadn't realized he had been talking aloud until John answered him with some silly little remark that couldn't possibly fit anyw-

Oh!

That...that is Brilliant!

A few months later he found Skull again, he had been looking for a jar of eye's he had misplaced, at the back of some cupboard gathering dust and smiling that unwavering smile at him.

He stared back.

He heard John walk into the room, complaining about the mess and the lack of milk and the tongue currently sitting on the table.

He ripped his attention away from Skull and instead turned it to his flatmate and...friend?

John offered a small half-grin at him, before leaving with the claim he had work.

He was still smiling back long after he had gone.