I wake in the morning with a headache and a sore neck. Sleeping on the sofa was not the best decision. Noted. After a few minutes, Sarah walks through with two mugs of coffee. She sets one on the table next to me and turns on the television.

"I told you to go with the li-lo," she jokes, smiling.

"No no, it's fine. I slept fine. It was very kind of you to let me spend the night," I reply, turning to look at her.

"Next time you're fighting with your boyfriend, give me a warning and I can get the guest bedroom ready for you."

"He's not my boyfriend yet," I smile, sipping from the mug she gave me.

"Help yourself to breakfast, I'm going to shower." She walks off, leaving me alone with the TV. I hold the warm mug in my hands, blowing the steam while paying little attention to the news in front of me. A sudden image of Baker Street draws my attention, but it's blackened and destroyed in parts. Oh my god, is this real? What happened? I watch for a few moments before I feel a pit deep in my stomach.

"Sarah!" I yell to the other room, hoping she hasn't gotten into the shower yet. "Sarah, I've got to go!"

"What's the matter?" She returns to the living room, worried.

"There's been an accident on Baker Street, I've got to go see if everything's alright." I rush to gather my things, and quickly exit her flat. Once I'm on the street, I hail a cab to take me home. In the backseat, I wring my hands together in worry. Once the cab pulls up and I pay him, I instinctively move towards and duck under the police tape. Someone tries to stop me, but she lets me go once I tell her that I lived on the taped-off road. I burst through the door and quickly analyze the building. Seems fine at the moment, just shaken up. I've got to check in with Mrs. Hudson.

"Sherlock! Are you alright?" I yell as I climb the stairs, stopping in our doorway. He sits, nonchalantly, in his armchair while Mycroft sits across from him. My ears feel hot as I realize he's sitting in my chair.

"I can't," he says, but not towards me.

"Can't?" Mycroft answers, continuing their conversation. I stand there awkwardly as I'm being ignored.

"It's impossible at the moment." Sherlock finally looks to me. "Hi Jane."

"Are you okay? I saw on the TV that-"

"What?" He interrupts. "Oh. Yeah. Gas leak, apparently." He turns back to his brother. "The stuff I've got on is too big. I just can't spare the time."

"This is of national importance!" Mycroft argues.

"How's the diet?" Sherlock retorts.

"Fine." Mycroft turns to me. "Maybe you can get through to him, Jane."

"Pardon?" I respond.

"I'm afraid my brother can be very intransigent."

"Well if you're so keen, why don't you investigate it?" I answer, annoyed that I'm being ignored in my own house.

"No, I couldn't possibly leave the office for any length of time. Not with the Korean elections so-" he stops suddenly, as if he wasn't supposed to say anything. "Well, you don't need to know about that, do you? Besides, a case like this requires... leg work."

"How's Sarah? How was the li-lo?" Sherlock questions, pulling the attention to me. I'm taken by surprise at this; I wasn't expecting to be used as a distraction in the brotherly dispute.

"Sofa, Sherlock. It was the sofa," Mycroft corrects, barely looking towards me. This only fuels my anger more. "Sherlock's business seems to be booming since you became... palls. What's he like to live with? Hellish, I imagine?"

"Better than living on the street," I jab, glaring at him. He doesn't notice, instead he continues to pull out a case file.

"Well, that's good isn't it? He's a real live wire, isn't he? When we were children, he worked out from the angle of the car seats and a smear of lipstick in the back of the Audi that Dad was having it off with the au pair. I'm afraid Mum wasn't too pleased and that was that. Bang went our happy home. Such a clever boy, but he really should have got his priorities right. Like right now." He hands the case file over towards Sherlock, but he refuses to take it. Mycroft then turns and tries to hand it over to me.

"Leave it on the table on your way out," I mutter, walking towards the kitchen to make myself some tea.

"Pardon me?" he asks, almost surprised.

"We can read the file when you're not here," I answer, not even looking away from the kettle. "Like Sherlock said, we're busy. We'll help you when we have time. Now get out of my house."

He obviously does not appreciate this bluntness, and sits in silence for a few moments. When I return to the living room, he is standing by the door.

"Think it over, Sherlock." He looks again to me. "Goodbye Jane. See you very soon." With that, he exits and closes the door behind himself. I turn to Sherlock.

"I know he's your brother, but I'm starting to hate seeing him everyday," I joke, earning a small smile.

"You should see how he is with our parents."

Sherlock stays seated as I return from the kitchen with a fresh cup of tea. I plop myself across from him in my chair and take a long needed sip. He looks at me briefly before darting his eyes in a different direction.

"So why did you lie to him?"

"What?" He asks in return, not looking to me.

"You lied to him. You said you were too busy to take his case, but there's absolutely nothing going on. Why did you lie?"

"Well, even geniuses need a break now and then," he states casually, finally turning to meet my eyes. I can feel the air getting thick with awkwardness, as if he wants to say something but didn't want this moment to pass. Without warning, Sherlock's phone begins ringing loudly. His face falls slightly as he picks it up to answer.

"Sherlock Holmes." He listens for a moment, and I can barely make out the voice of Lestrade. "How could I refuse?" He hangs up the phone and sighs. "I'm being summoned. Coming?"

"Only if you want me to."

"Of course, I'd be lost without my blogger!" He smiles cheerfully and heads towards the door, throwing on his coat. I set down my tea and quickly follow, hoping to eventually have the conversation that Sherlock seemed to be avoiding.