AN: I am so sorry for how long it took for me to update, just want to let everyone know that I am, in fact, alive and I'll try my best to make sure that you won't have to wait so long for the next one. Thank you for everyone who is still with me on this, thanks for your patience and support. It means a lot to me. Anyway! On with the story!

Chapter Twenty Six

Put The Harpoon Down

Having Sherlock to myself was something that I was never going to take for granted again. After the incident involving Irene Adler, a woman whose name I had decided to never speak aloud ever again, as childish as that may be it made me feel a lot better about what had happened.

My jealousy was going to get me into real trouble one of these days. Not just a tiny woman with a dominance complex, I mean real trouble. I would have to work on that before it happens. Winter really wasn't the best month for me but now that February was here I had a better feeling, it was almost time for Spring, which was commonly known for being the time of starting again or birth. I could do with starting again.

Sherlock had gone off to wherever it was to save that woman's life and he had promised me now that he would have nothing to do with her. Just because I didn't like her didn't mean I wanted her to die. So I waited for him to come back and surprised him with a very public display of affection, something that we didn't normally indulge in but I wanted to do it just to reassure myself, and by the way he was responding he wasn't exactly irritated by it.

That had been a few weeks ago and from there I had been busy with my own work, something I was grateful that I still had. Mrs Hudson had told me that I was welcome to come back whenever I wanted but I still felt awful considering I spent the majority of my time there, I basically cleaned it for free now. I was at the hotel now, room number 307 and I had never seen a room as disgraceful as the one I now faced the task of cleaning.

I peered into the adjoining bathroom and groaned in distaste. There were towels littering the bathroom floor, an odd yellow stain was on the upper left hand corner of one of them. The complimentary soaps had been apparently smashed against the side of the bath and rubbed in to create a foamy greyish mark that I imagined looked worse than it was going to be to clean off. The floor was sopping wet, the towels had apparently been used to try and mop it up, however all this did was create more mess. There were two types of lipstick smeared over the countertop, one a bright garish red and the other a tacky bright pink.

That was only the bathroom.

The bedroom was ten times worse. Apparently there had been a bit of a party here last night and going by the two shades of lipstick and the quite frankly overwhelming number of condoms in the bin. The duvet had been thrown over one of the chairs, the weight had seemingly tipped it over and both items were covering the majority of the floor. One of the women had managed to forget her underwear and it was handing from the ceiling fan that was obnoxiously still spinning. There was also a shoe that had been left behind the television. I took a reluctant closer look at the bed to see that it was covered in an assortment of stains, including fake tan and bodily fluids.

I stepped back and went outside to get some fresh air. The smell was starting to get to me. Gathering supplies from my cart I braced myself before re-entering the room. I snapped on some gloves before getting to work, stripping the bed and throwing the sheets, which I was sure were going to be thrown away and gagging at the look of the mattress underneath.

I reached for the phone, I was going to need some reinforcements.

Ten past six I finished work that day. I couldn't be bothered to walk to Baker Street so I got a taxi. Once I was inside I ignored Sherlock and walked over to the sofa, leaning forwards over it so that I flopped onto the soft material. Much better. I almost didn't notice when I fell asleep.

"Lydia?" Warm hands gently shook my shoulders and I could hear John's voice interrupt my peace. "Lydia, sorry to wake you, it's just we have a client and I don't think you'd like him to be able to look at your arse."

I snorted in amusement and accepted John's hand to help me sit up. "Nice to know you're always thinking of my modesty."

"Someone has to." He smiled at me before it dimmed slightly, he motioned to one side of his mouth. "You have a little-"

I heard the door slam and footsteps run up the stairs and my eyes widened in shock as I looked at the new arrival. "Lydia I need you to get that drool off your face before you scare off my client."

I scoffed at him. "My drool is hardly what's going to scare them off." Sherlock was covered, absolutely covered in patches of scarlet, blood dripped from his hair and onto his cheeks making him look stranger than usual.

Sherlock titled his head to one side and stared at me in confusion. "There's nothing else that I could imagine that would set someone on edge." I laughed softly before standing up and stretching my back, feeling some of the muscles in my back pull delightfully. I walked into the kitchen before doing anything else knowing that there was only one thing I wanted this morning.

Tea.

Five minutes later myself and John were looking through newspapers for a new case as a freshly cleaned Sherlock paced up and down with the pointy spear that he had told me irritably, was in fact called a harpoon. "Why are we doing this again?" I complained, pushing the newspaper away from me and resting my chin on one of my hands as I leaned into the sofa. One elbow was on the arm and my other hand was resting on my stomach, watching as John and Sherlock briefly glanced at me.

"I'm bored." Sherlock drawled, he threw down the harpoon next to me, making me jump and glare at him.

"Why don't you look for you own?"

He scoffed. "What would you and John do then?" I grabbed the harpoon and smacked him gently with the non-pointy end.

John looked between us in slight worry, as though he believed that I would actually harpoon my boyfriend and announced. "Military coup in Uganda."

"Boring." I rolled my eyes, put the harpoon back down and slid down the sofa a little. We could be here for a while.

"Another picture of you in the er-" I grinned, reaching over to pluck the newspaper from John's grip and laughed delightfully at the picture of Sherlock in the deerstalker hat.

"This is going in my collection." I got up to look for some scissors so that I could cut the picture out but Sherlock snatched the paper from me. I grinned up at him not at all fazed by the look of annoyance on his face. "You know that's not going to stop me. It's not like that's the only copy of that paper in London."

He groaned and threw the paper back down next to me. "Why do you have to torment me like this. I hate that stupid hat."

"I like it." I winked up at him, watching in amusement as his groan stopped suddenly to be replaced with a thoughtful look.

John made a slightly disgusted face and returned to the newspaper. "Cabinet reshuffle?" He offered with a wince.

"Nothing of importance." Sherlock turned around and grabbed his hair in frustration. He spun around with wide eyes and grabbed the harpoon again, slamming it on the floor. "I need some. John get me some."

John remained undeterred although Sherlock now had a deadly weapon in his grip. "No."

"Get me some."

"Sherlock no, you don't need it." He whirled to me and frowned, throwing the harpoon onto the floor he then turned to the flat and proceeded to upturn the paperwork and begin a search.

"No, Sherlock! Cold turkey, we agreed, no matter what." John pointed up at him sternly before settling back down. "Anyway, you've paid everyone off remember? No-one within a two mile radius will sell you any."

"Stupid idea." Sherlock frowned. "Whose idea was that?"

John and I averted our gaze from the frowning man and looked towards each other instead. I didn't want to be the one to remind him. John took the lead and mockingly tilted his head forwards and stared at Sherlock who understood and was dangerously close to pouting.

"Mrs Hudson!" He roared, turning towards the doorway instead. I'd had enough at this point and stood up, approaching the irate man and grabbing his arm gently.

"Sherlock. Calm down, we'll find you a case but we can't do that when your mind is on other things." I soothed, hoping to bring his mind back to the matter at hand.

He ran a hand through his hair and stared down at me, briefly looking at my lips before gently pushing me away. "I need some." He said quietly, looking deep into my eyes.

I pushed his face away. "That's not going to work." I sighed and sat back down.

"Mrs Hudson!" He roared once more before turning towards the fireplace. "My secret supply. Where are they?"

Mrs Hudson appeared in the doorway and threw a smile my way before looking at Sherlock with concern. "What's that?"

"Cigarettes! What have you done with them? Where are they?" Sherlock seethed, throwing ash about as he searched.

"You know you don't let me touch your things." She pointed out. He turned to me instead.

"What have you done with them?"

I rolled my eyes and picked at my fingernails in disinterest. "I threw them out."

He grabbed the harpoon again, pointing the spear end at me. "What!"

I gutted my chin out stubbornly. "You told me to!"

Mrs Hudson stepped forwards with a smile. "How about a nice cuppa, and perhaps you could put away your harpoon."

Sherlock groaned, lowering the harpoon. "I need something stronger than tea. Seven per cent stronger." He walked towards the window with a huff and glared outside. Once he turned back around, poor Mrs Hudson was within his sights. "You've been to see Mr Chatterjee again."

"Pardon?" She asked, caught unaware.

Sherlock pointed the harpoon's tip at her and I wondered why he had to be so dramatic all the time. "Sandwich shop. That's a new dress, but there's flour on the sleeve. You wouldn't dress like that for baking."

"Sherlock." John warned, feeling the oncoming storm that was approaching.

"Thumbnail: tiny traces of foil. Been at the scratch cards again. We all know where that leads, don't we?" He took a deep breath and put the harpoon down once more. "Mmm Kasbah Nights. Pretty racy for first thing on a Monday morning, wouldn't you agree? I've written a little blog on the identification of perfumes. It's on the website. You should look it up."

"Come on Sherlock, we get it you're a genius but leave her alone." I frowned over at him.

"I wouldn't pin your hopes on that cruise with Mr Chatterjee. He's got a wife in Doncaster that nobody knows about." I gaped at him, then turned to a very displeased Mrs Hudson as John tried to reprimand Sherlock. "Well, nobody except me."

Mrs Hudson had had enough. "I don't know what you're talking about, I really don't." She hurried out of the flat and I decided to run down after her, not before smacking Sherlock on the arm as he appeared completely unfazed by what he'd just done. Mrs Hudson had stopped at her flat door and leant against the wood.

She heard me walking behind her and turned with a watery smile. "I knew there was something off with Mr Chatterjee."

"Maybe you should talk to him before you do anything drastic." I returned her smile and walked with her into her flat. "Now, how about I make you that tea?"

"That would be lovely." She went to sit down at the dining room table as I turned on the kettle. "I have some biscuits as well dear, if you'd like?"

I went to reach for them but stopped in my tracks as the doorbell rang. Mrs Hudson and I looked at one another and we both knew what it meant. "Client."