Chapter Three: A hated Vice

"So who is our mysterious noble?" Watson asked with curiously, he looked at Sherlock as he walked around the study smoking his pipe.

"A Lady. By the name of Cassandra Ming Chang, daughter of the Dipolmat of China." He answered back.

"What did she want?"

"Protection." Watson looked up from his notes and narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"When did you turn this into a protection agency?"

"No Watson, she believes her Step mother Catherine of Wales is conning her into marrying this duke. But what do the duke and Lady Catherine have in common?" He blew out some smoke and sat down at his chair. He looked up at the clock and smiled putting his pipe away. Watson too looked at the clock and frowned.

"I thought you stopped that dirty habit." He said icily as Sherlock rolled up his sleeve, tying a rubber band over his arm.

"I never did, and i don't intend on doing so. It helps me relax.. Now if you are just going to nag why don't you go home." Sherlock snapped as he pulled the drug and needle from a box. He sat down in a chair, taking some medince into the shot. It was cocaine. That was his vice that Watson disliked greatly as would anyone.

"I won't cry if you die from this Sherlock." Watson spat as he stomped to the front door and slamming it behind him. Holmes rolled his eyes.

"I don't give a damn." He muttered to himself as he slowly inserted the shot into his arm and let the fluid sink in. He sat back in his chair and let out a shaky breath letting the needle drop down on the floor.