"Sherlock, stop acting like a child." John glares at his flatmate who is stubbornly sitting in his favorite spot. Jace happily stands on the arm rest, glad to be out of the pocket, but John knows why he's really smiling.

"He's the problem. Stealing my thunder," Sherlock mutters back. Jace only grins wider. Oh no, now John has to live with TWO Sherlocks.

"I only did it because you picked me up!" Jace retorts.

"I simply grabbed your shirt. Picking you up would be your entire body."

"Well I call my shirt being grabbed with me still in it being picked up!"

"I'll show you what 'picked up' is." Holmes leaps at Jace but misses, the borrower already knowing it'd happen and leapt to the table. Watson laughs as Holmes then begins to stand up, a little mad for being stood up twice.

"Sherlock! Leave him alone. He only helped you, you should be grateful. And, Lestrade only knows that you discovered the note," John points out. Sherlock huffs, stomping to his couch.

"But we know." He flops onto his back, thinking back to the scene. At least Sherlock now knows to look at tiny bits of things out of place. Jace rolls his eyes as John ignores the problem and reads his book again. As he sits on the table, Jace watches as Holmes falls asleep.

"Wow," he whistles. Grabbing his hook, he quickly slides down to the floor. Winding the rope up, he begins to calmly walk toward the kitchen. Night was drawing near, so he has to go to sleep in order to be wide awake for more excitement.

As Jace walks, he looks down and thinks about his sisters and parents. He left America a long time ago, when he was eight. They were in New York, having been near the harbor. Jace kept on wanting to leave the house, go to a new one, but his parents would yell for being so carefree. Finally, after three years of the yelling, Jace decided to leave. And he kept leaving, going from house to house. Soon he went across the sea to London. But, he kept hopping constantly.

Now, he has a "home", and maybe he'll actually stay for a little bit. If the two let him.

"Jace, do be careful." Holmes walks by, causing Jace to fall back from the termers as he says it.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you were this small!" Jace yells, a little surprised seeing Sherlock awake so quickly. This causes Holmes to stop. Jace pails, thinking he finally got him mad enough to erupt.

"You're right. I might not be saying that. Hmm," is all Sherlock says back, and then he walks away. Jace tilts his head, hoping with all his might Holmes isn't going to do something stupid. Watson then walks in, and seeing Jace he kneels down.

"If you want to go to sleep you're more than welcome to sleep where ever you like. I'm turning in. Good night." He stands up, giving Sherlock a nod as he walks away.

"I need to give you a last name." Jace raises an eyebrow as Holmes speaks.

"What for?"
"For when I get angry and upset." Sherlock smirks as Jace begins to walk toward the table.

"How about Holmes?" John calls.

"No. Only one Holmes in this world. I was thinking something like Drywood." Jace scoffs at this. Holmes only waves him off. "My first attempt at being creative."

"No kidding," Jace snorts.

He sighs, having thought of this himself. His name was Bell, when he lived with his family, but he feels like he'll betray them if he picked that name. Well, he has always kind have favored the name Stenson. And it'd be ironic and nice.

"Stenson." Holmes looks at Jace, a smile displayed.

"Jace Stenson. A little cliché in my opinion, but it suits you. Alright Stenson, lets make Watson angry by not going to sleep for a few more hours," Sherlock laughs. Jace smiles at this and shakes his head.

"You have a good night Holmes," he calls. The man stands up to look at an experiment as Jace lays his head on his bag. In seconds he's asleep, though he keeps jolting awake as Sherlock moves around the kitchen.