I said I wasn't going to write another chapter for this, but for some reason I keep getting more and more followers for this, though I'm not sure why, and finally after 10(!) followers, I decided I'd do another.

I'm not sure about this, so I'd appreciate some reviews!

Molly had begun to avoid Lestrade and even Sherlock and John at almost all costs. Mrs. Hudson had gotten incredibly skittish, and Sherlock had gotten weird emails from a CtingCinal.*

All in all, things were difficult.

So, Sherlock being Sherlock, decided he was going to "fix" it.

John walked in the flat the next evening, to see Sherlock typing away on his (John's) laptop. "Couldn't be bothered to get your own?" He said, dumping the groceries on the counter, avoiding the fermenting jaw in the plastic container.

"Mmm, in the bedroom."

"Legs broken?" John mumbled putting the jam in the top cupboard. "Mmm?" Came from Sherlock, though it was obvious he wasn't expecting an answer. "What're you typing anyway? New client?" John asked.

"No…" Sherlock said, looking at the screen, reading what he just wrote. "Then what?"

"Fan. Fiction." He said, saying each word sternly. As though he hated it phrased that way. (And he probably did.)

John nearly dropped the cake he was putting in the refrigerator. "Wh-Sher-How-Wha-WHY?!"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John. "Isn't it obvious?" He then began typing.

"No, it bloody well isn't!" John said, slamming the door to the refrigerator.

"Then come read what I've written." Sherlock tapped a few more words. John looked skeptically at Sherlock and walked over. He then read:

Molly had begun to avoid Lestrade and even Sherlock and John at almost all costs. Mrs. Hudson had gotten incredibly skittish, and Sherlock had gotten weird emails from a CtingCinal.

"You're… writing a fanfiction about us finding fanfiction?" John said, raising an eyebrow. Then watching Sherlock type down what he just said.

"Mmm, yes. I'm hoping it might, I don't know, break the ice? Isn't that what humor does?" He then typed that down.

"Stop typing everything I say." John said. "No seriously, Sherlock. Knock it off. Stop. Stop!" He then sighed exasperated and walked back to the kitchen.

Sherlock smiled and typed out he just smiled. He was going to have fun with this.

*The email address is Consulting Criminal. Moriarty is emailing him, and of course, Sherlock has worked this out. Now seriously, this is the last chapter, there's not a lot more I can do with this. So stop following. No seriously, stop. This is not, Sherlock typing, this is me. There will be no more story!