"Oscar recognized the man in our picture."

The words seemed to hang in mid air for a minute or two, until their full meaning hit John.

"He knows the attacker? Who is he?" John rolled Sherlock onto his back, scrambling over him to pin him down. The berk has kept this to himself all night. John wasn't going to let him up until he heard everything.

Sherlock was chuckling, clearly the information was what had put him in such a good mood since they left the gallery. He got so excited over leads, it was infectious. His green eyes seemed to glow, his lips pulling into a small pleased smile.

"Well, he didn't know his name, but I could tell right away he recognized him. He zoomed up the pictures, looking at them all closely while I talked with Felicity." Sherlock said, looking quite proud of himself. The risk of going to the gallery had been worth it.

John let out a frustrated huff. "Sherlock! Fucking tell me what he said already!"

"What will you give me to tell you?" Sherlock still prevaricated.

Rolling his eyes, John tried to keep calm. "You're going the right way for a smart bottom."

The comment made Sherlock chuckle, but John couldn't miss the spark of interest in his eyes as well. "Oh really?"

Sherlock, when in a good mood, was simply irresistible. John loved it when he was playful like this. So fucking sexy.

He leaned down, kissing the man until he was pulling against John's restraining hands. Stopping only to pull back a little, John gave Sherlock an exasperated look. "What?"

The berk pouted a little. "Let go of my wrists. I want to touch you."

"Tell me what Oscar said, and I will." John shot back with a smile.

Sherlock's eyes went to John's mouth, groaning. "Blackmail."

"Bargaining." John corrected.

With a curt nod, Sherlock met his gaze. "It took him a while to place him, but he's pretty sure the guy is a cousin of Paolo's. Someone he had met in passing a time or two, years ago. Can't remember his name though."

John gave him a quick kiss, releasing him to roll over on his back, staring at the ceiling as he thought about it. A cousin. Paolo was 34 when he died. From the fight, John's impression was that the attacker's age was around the same or slightly younger. Mid-twenties to low-thirties. His face and colouring were similar to Paolo's, likely Italian as well, so it fit that they could be related. He hadn't spoken, so John didn't know if he had an accent. Paolo had been born in England so he didn't, but his mother still had a light one.

"Well, there's a 50/50 chance his last name is Baresi as well, then." John sighed. "How many men from 25-35 years old have that surname in the UK? In London?"

Sherlock nodded. "It's a place to start. Felicity also mentioned that they had a traditional funeral for Paolo at the Italian church, St. Peter's, the day before the memorial service. That's the one his extended family and the Italian community went to."

"Traditional funeral? Like open casket after he had an autopsy? Is that possible?" John mused aloud.

Sherlock shrugged. "But it's possible this cousin could have travelled to come to the funeral and still been around the next day to attack you."

John nodded. "I can't remember his clothes that clearly. Not a suit, and not something really casual either, like jeans or athletic wear. I think he was in dress trousers and a button up shirt. He could have worn it to the memorial service."

Sherlock agreed. "Well, I have a solid lead, at least. I can show the picture at the building, see if the security staff remember him at the memorial. Go to that church, see if the minister or staff know him."

"Could your brother access official records? Search election rolls or passports?" John was just throwing out ideas, getting excited, but also feeling a bit overwhelmed at the possibilities.

Sherlock didn't seem to latch on to that idea. "Well, I'll check out the most likely things first, and enlarge the search if I need to. By his attack, I would say he knew Paolo well. Was close enough that his death made him angry. That says he probably lived in London, like Paolo did. Not a distant cousin who came here just for the funeral. Besides, most people can't afford to travel that far anymore."

"And Felicity didn't recognize him? Wouldn't she know his local family pretty well?" John thought back on what he knew about their relationship from being in media. They were both well known celebrities, beautiful people who enjoyed their fame.

Sherlock scooted upwards, propping a pillow against his lower back as he leaned against the headboard. "I don't think she was that close with his family. Why else would she hold the memorial service in addition to the funeral? It had a handful of his family members, but was mostly people from the sports community, friends, associates like us."

"And did you notice that his mother never called her by name when I spoke with her? Just referred to her as 'his fiancee'." John added. "I know they weren't a couple when he had his first surgery with me, but were for the second. So, they've only been together a few years."

"It will be easy enough to research that." Sherlock steepled his fingers under his chin, lost in thought.

John settled down on the bed, getting sleepy. He had worked all day, had the excitement at the gallery, and then all this sex with Sherlock. He was exhausted and had to be at the office bright and early tomorrow. "Well, I could show his mother the picture. She seemed to trust me."

"How would you explain having the picture? Knowing it's his cousin? She would likely get suspicious and say nothing." Sherlock said. "It's a possibility, but I'll try some other things first."

John nodded. "Well, be careful tomorrow. Your face has been in the news more lately, so you have a higher chance of being recognized." He kissed Sherlock and settled back under the covers.

Sherlock stayed sitting up against the headboard, clearly not sleepy yet. His hand cupped John's shoulder over the sheet, making small soothing strokes as he fell asleep.

...

John knocked on the door again, but there was still no response. He shrugged, turning back to Sherlock. "I don't think she is home. We can try again tomorrow."

Sherlock made an irritated sound as they turned to walk back to the tube.

Grabbing his hand, John gave it a little squeeze. "I know this is frustrating. We will figure this out."

Although he nodded in response, Sherlock's posture showed how discouraged he was. It was such a change from how pumped up he had been last night, excited about this strong lead. But he had run around London all day, showing the picture, and was no closer to getting the cousin's name.

John had met him after work to talk to Paolo's mother, hoping for better success there. But she wasn't home. Another dead end, for now.

"Is there anywhere else we should try tonight?" John asked softly, just wanting to support Sherlock any way he could.

Wearily, Sherlock shook his head.

They got onto the tube. It was early evening, rush hour over, so they found seats together. As the train swayed, John wrapped his arm over Sherlock's shoulders, pulling him against his side. The tired, discouraged man slumped against John.

"Look, we will go home, eat some dinner and look over everything we know. We will find something if we look hard enough." John said, stroking Sherlock's leg.

Sitting so close to John, he barely had to move to talk softly into his ear. "My time is up. We agreed that I should talk to the cops tomorrow."

Fear shot through John at those words, and he shook his head. "That was before we had this lead. I think you need one more day, checking back with people you couldn't reach today. I can probably even cut out of work earlier tomorrow, so we can try seeing Paolo's mom again."

Sherlock seemed to agree, but didn't seem that enthused about it.

Back at the flat, John checked the fridge and there was hardly anything in it. Looking over at Sherlock, he had an idea. "I think you need a rest from thinking about the case, just for a few hours. Give it a break, and when you come back to it, you'll see it with fresher eyes."

"Whatever." Sherlock pulled off his coat, stretching. He seemed worn out.

Grabbing his hand, John pulled him out into the hallway and to the stairs. But instead of heading down like they normally did, he tugged him up.

It was still light out, as they emerged on the roof. John grinned a little, looking over at Sherlock, seeing the way he looked around.

"You were asking the other night about why I live here. This is a big reason." John squeezed his hand, tugging him along.

The roof was mostly covered with greenery, with narrow paths dividing the area into various plots. A couple neighbours waved at them in passing, before going back to their work.

Grabbing a bucket, some tools and gloves, John headed over to a plot far away from everyone else. He passed Sherlock a pair of the gardening gloves. "Put these on."

Sherlock did as he asked, and they were soon sitting on the edge of the raised bed.

John passed him a trowel. "So, we are going to weed now. Pull out anything that isn't lettuce and chuck it into the pail." He demonstrated what to do, and got to work. After a minute or so, he saw Sherlock copying his motions, working slower, but doing it right.

The lettuce was growing well, and John gently pushed the leaves out of the way to clear the weeds.

Sherlock looked around almost as much as he worked, clearly curious and distracted by everything. "So all this, all these plants, are edible?"

John chuckled. He had been just as inexperienced when he had come back from Afghanistan. Janine had been the one who first had him working in gardens, showing him everything. "Yup. Potatoes, peas, carrots, radish, cucumbers. Almost any vegetable we can grow. Anything good for this climate." Luckily London had a long growing season.

"And you just take what you want?"

The questions were good. Just the distraction John had hoped Sherlock would get from being up here. There was something naturally restful about working with the garden, seeing results right away. The satisfaction of the cleared plot. The quiet. Feeling the sun on your skin, the light breeze in your hair, the smell of moist soil.

The view was great as well. The building was six stories tall, and most buildings for miles and miles were similar height, some slightly shorter or taller. Occasional taller buildings and church spires poked higher on the vista. Many of the other building had green roofs like this one, and trees surrounded most buildings. Large parks also broke up the cityscape, full of trees and green grass.

John chucked some more weeds into the bucket. "Everyone who lives here gets a portion. What is ready for harvest and doesn't get eaten by us gets sold at a weekly farmer's market nearby."

They talked on as they worked, and pretty soon the plot was done and the bucket full. John led Sherlock over to the compost pile to empty it, and started gathering vegetables from the various plots.

"How do you know how much is OK to take?" Sherlock asked, watching as John got some green onions, adding them to his pail.

John shrugged. "I'm generally up here every other day, so I take what I'll use in the next couple days. Basically we get a bucket of food for each half hour of work."

Sherlock seemed about to launch into about a dozen more questions, but John held up his hand. "Hold on a sec..."

He waved to a tall man walking nearby, wearing a wide brimmed hat and loose jeans over his lanky frame.

"Bill, I don't think you met my boyfriend at the dinner the other night. Frank, this is our building's resident farmer." John completed the introductions, looking between the two men.

Sherlock's sharp eyes flicked over the man, and he nodded knowingly. "Oh, you are the one who John borrowed clothes from for me."

Bill smiled back warmly. "Oh right. Nice to meet you."

"Say, do you have any dinner plans? Frank hasn't been on a green roof before and he has more questions than I have answers." John asked.

The other man looked down at his dirty work clothes and hands. "I'm hardly tidy enough to go out anywhere, John."

John patted his arm. "Oh, I just meant at my flat. What you are wearing is fine. Just a casual supper."

Bill agreed, and said he would come down in fifteen minutes. John finished grabbing the food he needed and headed down with Sherlock.

In the flat, John put the veggies in the kitchen. By the time he came out, Sherlock had shucked off his bulky jumper, his cap and glasses.

"Um, you better wear the glasses and the cap. I doubt Bill follows the news that closely, but we don't want him to place you." John said, tilting his head to the side a little.

Sherlock picked up the hat with a huff. "Who wears a cap indoors? Won't that be strange?"

John went to his closet, digging around, and pulled out a thin knit beanie in dark olive green. "How about this instead?"

Trying it on, it covered Sherlock's hair quite well, and with the glasses, altered his appearance enough.

Washing their hands, they started chopping up the vegetables, working better together since them had done it before. By the time Bill knocked on the door, most of the prep was done.

Getting everyone a beer, John pulled up a kitchen chair and they all settled in the living room.

"So, Bill, Frank is from Cambridge and hasn't been around buildings like this very much. He keeps asking me about things, and I thought you would be great at explaining how it all works." John relaxed back in his chair.

Bill nodded slightly slowly. "Well, in the past, what, ten or fifteen years, the government has given property taxes incentives for buildings that are more community focussed or sustainable. The more programs we get involved in, the lower the taxes."

Sherlock perked up. "Really? What types of programs?"

"Well, the building already had solar panels and rainwater collection before I came. I was hired on when they put in the green roof." Bill explained.

"Hired as what?"

Bill sipped his drink. "I lost my job as a lorry trucker, and was out of work for a while. That whole industry died. They government offered free retraining in a few areas, and I took urban farming. I live here rent free, get a share of the produce, plus a small salary, for running the gardens."

"Gardens?"

"The roof, the fruit trees around the building, the greenhouse. Also manage the rainwater collection, so we don't use city water. There are tanks on the roof to water the gardens and for the building's use. Grey water is reused by the toilets before it goes to the sewers." Bill crossed his long legs, sipping his beer.

John got up. "I'm going to finish making dinner while you two talk." Once in the kitchen, he boiled water for some pasta, made a simple sauce, and sautéed the vegetables. He could hear Sherlock asking lots of questions, and felt relieved that he was distracted from the case for a little while. The break would do him good.

By the time he passed them each a large bowl of pasta, the two men were chatting easily, joking around. John brought out another round of beer and dug into his own meal. The peanut sauce had turned out a little spicier than he intended, but was still good.

"OK, I get why the government was giving all these incentives to get people to move to buildings with these modifications. Use less energy, less water, the whole victory garden thing." Sherlock took a large bite of pasta, chewing as he thought. "But why the incentives for the types of tenants?"

John decided to answer that, give Bill a break to eat. "A lot of people had a hard time being able to afford food, or get the care they needed. Like seniors whose families live far away and can't afford to travel much. This building has the seniors' apartments on the first floor and the staff to assist them get paid like Bill. Same with the staff who run the small daycare on the second floor. We also have about a quarter of the flats for low income families and singles."

"Fuck, this whole thing is a commune. I'm surprised you didn't break into a big round of 'Kum Ba Ya' at that dinner last weekend." Sherlock teased, finishing off his meal and setting the empty bowl on the coffee table.

Bill chuckled. "I never pictured that I would do work like this. But it's great! I don't even have to commute."

"Want a tour?" John asked, now that everyone was done. It would be good to move around a bit after eating.

Sherlock agreed, and they walked down the stairs. They stopped in the second floor, Bill showing Sherlock the common room central area that served as a daycare. There were small flats around the parameter, with lots of kid sized furniture in the common room. Shelves held containers full of toys and craft supplies. A kitchenette on one side was tidy, it's cupboards and fridge full of healthy food for the kids.

On the main floor, they went into the common room were the dinner had been held. It was back to looking normal, the tables stocked with tools and sewing machines.

"During the day, the seniors like working in the greenhouse, and working on projects in here together." Bill explained. "At night, other people in the building work here too."

"Who owns all this stuff?" Sherlock picked up a hammer from a tool box.

John shrugged. "The building. It's bought from the rent, or from money we get from the farmers market. We can all use this stuff, share it."

They went outside into the garden, the enclosed space ringed with fruit trees. The spring blooms were gone now, and tiny fruit was growing on them all. The greenhouse was full of harder to grow plants, that needed a more protected climate than the roof.

Sherlock was looking around the small greenhouse, quite interested. "Have you ever thought about doing aquaponics?"

Before John knew it, Bill and Sherlock were deeply discussing pH levels and ideal fish breeds. He just shook his head at it all. "I'm going to head up. Stay and talk."

Sherlock grabbed his hand before he could slip away, pulling him closer to give him a light kiss. It fit the boyfriends role they were portraying, but still left John's lips tingling from the contact.

As he walked up the stairs to the flat, he couldn't help picturing Sherlock living here. He seemed so interested in everything, and fit in surprisingly well with the other tenants.

A week ago, John never would have thought their relationship would ever be like this. They seemed so much different, connecting only in a physical way. But they had been living together several days now, and they got on well most of the time.

John tidied up the flat, feeling a bit odd at being there without Sherlock. It felt so empty and quiet without his enigmatic presence. He ended up putting on some music, just to feel more normal.

Sitting down, he just shook his head at the thoughts running through his head. Either they cleared Sherlock's name or he might be charged with murder, or involuntary manslaughter, depending how much evidence the police had on him. A case from his childhood seemed familiar, and he ended up pulling out his tablet to do research.

If Sherlock was charged, he would have a huge legal battle on his hands. Would he be able to get a good lawyer, and poke enough reasonable doubt that Sherlock's drugs caused Paolo's death? John knew Sherlock had enough money to hire the best, have the best chance possible, but he could still end up in jail.

If they could clear his name, then what? Sherlock just goes back to his flat and they never see each other again? Go back to casual sex a couple tunes a week? Become boyfriends for real? Ask Sherlock to stay?

And if he was charged, could John stand at his side, as a friend or a boyfriend? Risking his own reputation? Would patients see him differently if he was publicly linked to Sherlock? Even if he wasn't charged, people knew him as a DADT league chemist, and that was still controversial. Look at how Dr. Park had argued with Sherlock at the hospital the day they had met. Even sweet Molly Hooper had called him Dr. Frankenstein.

Sherlock couldn't live in disguise much longer. It was bound to come out sooner or later. If John was going to be a part of Sherlock's life outside of the bedroom, he had to be at peace with his work. It was such a big part of Sherlock's life.

The door opened, and Sherlock entered. He pulled off the beanie and glasses once the door was closed, ruffling his curls quickly with both hands.

His green eyes scanned over John, and his shoulders dropped a little. Walking over to where John was reclining, he dropped a quick kiss on his lips as a way to say hello, and then slipped to the floor. He leaned against John's chair, resting his arms against his bent knees. "You are thinking about the case, aren't you? I confess it was nice to think about something else for a while."

The quick kisses Sherlock had given John so naturally made him confident to reach out to play with Sherlock's hair. Running his hands through the curls in a soothing gesture, but still enjoying touching him this way. "Sometimes a step back. A step away, gives you a fresh perspective. Let's look over everything we know."

Sherlock sighed, closing his eyes briefly as he collected his thoughts. "Paolo Eduardo Baresi, Italian British, 34, professional athlete. Born and raised in the UK with immigrant parents. Excelled in sport at a young age, athletic scholarship for uni. First professional job in Milan, but moved back to London for the last eight years. Relatively good health, hospitalized only for surgeries with you on his Achilles' tendon and knee. Has been my client for three years. Meet his fiancée two years ago."

John agreed with everything Sherlock said. "He had minor signs of anemia a when younger, but not later on."

"And likely related was your attacker after the memorial service. Oscar claims he could be a cousin, but one day of following this lead has come up short." Sherlock added, tapping his fingers against his knee in thought.

"Possible causes of death. Autopsy said heart attack, showed enlarged heart and other organs, elevated hematocrit. Non-fatal damage to his liver from steroid use." John mused, thinking back.

Sherlock nodded. "It could have been due to a natural condition, or interference by Paolo himself, or someone else. Or a combination of factors."

John's eyebrows rose. "You think it could be suicide?"

"I'm not eliminating any possibilities yet." Sherlock snapped, and then gave John an apologetic look. "Sorry. Let's throw out any possible ideas, and then we can narrow them down afterwards."

"Paolo was reaching the end of his career, and didn't seem to wanting to retire. His mother and I encouraged him to consider it, but he was resistant. Was this his own sense of pride, pushing himself to stay in the game? Or outside pressures?" John said, thinking of motives.

"I don't think his mother was pushing him. She seemed proud of him, but didn't value his financial success that much. Seemed to care more about his health." Sherlock said.

John nodded. "But I got the feeling she doesn't like Felicity. She only referred to her as 'his fiancée', not by name."

Sherlock was quiet a moment, considering this. "Could it be because Felicity isn't Italian? Mom wanted Paolo stick to someone in their community or religion?"

"Hmmm, perhaps. I don't get the feeling Greta Baresi is that much of a traditionalist. I think she wanted her son happy and healthy." John had liked the older woman, found her forthright and caring when he had seen her at the hospital and when they went to her house.

"Felicity. A model in a world with much less consumer buying power than in the past. She is known, but I doubt she is paid that well." Sherlock opined.

John nodded. "She cares a lot about high end fashion. I'm oblivious to most of that and even I can tell she wears designer clothing." The fashion industry has shrunk significantly over the past couple decades, catering to the upper crust mostly.

"His mother said they were living in a fancy flat. It sounds like that all happened when she came along." Sherlock added.

It was interesting, bouncing ideas off each other like this. Sherlock had better scientific knowledge in most areas, but John understood people better. "I'm still suspicious about the relationship between Felicity and Oscar. Mike said Oscar and Paolo were like brothers, but I sense chemistry between them. That dress she wore to the gallery was a date dress."

"She could just be showing the world that she is out of mourning and wanting to move on." Sherlock shrugged.

John nodded, thinking beyond the people they discussed. "Paolo was a public person, so there could have been someone wanting to do him harm over some imagined slight. Or someone who doesn't like the DADT league, wants a scapegoat."

Sherlock shook his head. "I doubt someone like that would be able to get close enough to administer a drug to kill him. It would have to be someone in his inner circle, someone he knew and trusted."

"You talked with his teammates and we toured the stadium. Nothing really came out of that except mentioning he was sick from the lab meat a couple days before." John thought hard on other possibilities. "His mother mentioned that he was getting treatments from other people, besides you. Did you ask Felicity and Oscar about that?"

Sherlock shifted, stretching out his long legs in front of his body. "I was mostly focussed on the pictures, and just started to ask that when you signalled to me." He made a frustrated noise.

John rubbed Sherlock's shoulder to soothe him, to know he wasn't alone in this. "Finding the cousin and finding the other people giving treatments seem to be the missing pieces stil."

The tension seemed to be ratcheting up in Sherlock. John could feel it in his shoulders.

"I have looked and looked. I hardly know where else to go." Sherlock sighed. He sounded exhausted, with good reason.

"Come up here." John said softly. He urged Sherlock onto the lounger meant for one. Both shifted to make room, and then fit together when they laid on their sides, facing each other. "It's been five days of investigating, and we have found out so much. Talked to so many people. Think of all the possibilities we have eliminated. That's progress too."

His words seemed to help, and he could feel Sherlock relaxing into him a little. "Yeah, I suppose."

"We are narrowing it down, almost there. One little thing will pop up somewhere, and it will just fit into place like a jigsaw puzzle. It will make everything makes sense." John rubbed his back soothingly.

"I hope so." Sherlock said softly. He sounded tired, and a bit discouraged still.

John didn't know what else to say. They knew the case, and had nothing that concrete to clear Sherlock. He knew the man was worried about his possible future. Either leaving the country and everything he had known, or staying and facing a very public legal battle that could ruin his career, his life here, even if he wasn't ultimately convicted.

After about twenty minutes, Sherlock got up and went to the bathroom. After that, he headed towards the bedroom.

John watched him go, knowing he needed the rest after a long day of seemingly futile work. He was still thinking about the case, sifting his way back through everything, wracking his brain for any possible unturned stone. It was a couple hours before he joined Sherlock under the covers, spooning him tightly, his warmth helping John finally fall asleep.

...

-A/N: Some progress...can't make things too easy for the boys... There will be more 'action' next chapter. Thanks for continuing to read this story. I think there will be about 15 chapters in total.

-Travel: Higher energy costs mean that it is more expensive to travel in this future. Europe already has an excellent train system, but it will be used a lot for freight, since shipping by road/air uses more energy. That would drive up passenger fares on trains. Most people can't afford to travel as far.

-Green Roof: It is simply a roof covered with plants and vegetation. It can be 'extensive', just a thin layer of topsoil planted with a mix of low-growing, drought-resistant species like succulents, grasses, and herbs, and be quite low maintenance. Or it can be more 'intensive', with a thicker soil layer to support larger plants and more structural considerations to handle the weight load on the building.

There are many benefits. Insulation to keep the building warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer, so lower energy costs. Plants and soil keep the sun from damaging the roof, making it last twice as long. They also absorb the rain, reducing the runoff and the risk of flooding during downpours. Plants also take in carbon dioxide and give off oxygen, making air quality better, reducing greenhouse gases. In this building, the roof is planted with vegetables, giving food to its tenants.

Green roofs examples: The Pentagon (180,000 square feet/ 17,000 m2), Emporia shopping mall (27,000 square meters, the size of four soccer fields) in Sweden, and the Kanes salad factory in Evesham, UK, with 90 species of wildflower and natural grasses.

-Urban/Rural Changes: Farmers had a hard time affording the increasing energy costs of running their machinery, and had to use physical labour more. They started building simple cabins on the outskirts of their land, offering free board and a share of the crops to people who would work for them. The increasing prices in the late 2020s scared people a lot. Businesses closed, jobs were cut back or eliminated, and food costs rose. So many people decided to leave the cities to move onto farms, knowing they had a secure food source and roof over their heads.

-London Changes: Seeing people unemployed and leaving in great numbers, the city reviewed what would be sustainable in the long run and gave property tax breaks to encourage people to adopt these new ways of living. Low rise buildings with small flats for many people close to tube stations were the most energy efficient.

-Government Retraining: As goods became more expensive, people bought less, made do with what they had, recycled, bought used goods, grew their own food, and bought locally produced things more. Many shops went out of business, and truck drivers lost their jobs since less goods were being shipped long distances. The government offered training programs for unemployed people to learn skills like installing solar panels, green roofs, and water-wise systems. Training people to help others be able to afford living in the city, providing essential services. Urban farming techniques is what Bill trained in, getting the best yield from a green roof, greenhouse and garden, spending as little as possible on expensive pesticides or fertilizer.

-Rainwater Collection: Water or ice covers about 80% of the world, yet only 1% of the world's water is suitable for human needs, 97% is salt water in the ocean and 2% is ice. In the UK, people currently use 150 litres/day of water each, with around 20% of that cold water from faucets for drinking and other uses. The other 80% is for toilets, laundry, showers, watering the garden, etc.

Instead of treating all the water to be potable (drinkable), the government in the future gives tax incentives to encourage people install rainwater and greywater systems. Rainwater is collected in cisterns and a small amount is filtered to be safe for consumption. The rest is used for in washing machines and showers, with the greywater from that being used in the toilets or for the garden.

Rainwater harvesting can help reduce greenhouse gas emissions associated with treating and pumping water from a centrally located municipal plant, and help reduce stormwater runoff. It is less energy-intensive than other alternate sources of water such as desalination and water recycling. It's also free of minerals, thus reducing scale buildup in pipes, and it is sodium-free, which can be good for persons on low-sodium diets if used for drinking.

-Population Diversity: In order to help build strong communities and encourage people to work close to where they live, the government offered tax incentives to buildings that have certain types of tenants and services.

John's building has the first floor designed for seniors needing assisted living. They have small flats with no kitchen. Aides prepare their meals in the common room kitchen, helping them with eating. The rest of the day, most of the seniors stay in the common room to use the tools to work on projects, working in the greenhouse and garden, or just relaxing together.

The second floor common room is set up for a daycare. Families with small children live on that floor and on the third. The upper floors are a mix of families and single people. The common rooms are used by everyone in the evenings and on weekends.

Other buildings like John's cater to other special needs communities, like drug addicts who come out of rehab needing a stable place to live and reestablish their lives, people with physical or mental disabilities, and new immigrants. Workers who support the tenants with special needs are paid like Bill, with free rent in the building and a small salary.

-Kum ba yah ("Come by Here") is a spiritual song first recorded in the 1920s. It became a standard campfire song in scouting and summer camps and enjoyed broader popularity during the folk revival of the 1950s and 1960s.

-Sharing economy: We already have carsharing like car2go in over 1000 cities worldwide, and this trend will grow. Why own something that you won't use much? John's building has well stocked common rooms for things the tenants can share the cost of instead of buying individually. Toys and games for the kids, tools, craft supplies. They don't need to have large flats of their own, since they don't own as much 'stuff' individually.

I was obviously thinking about this building too much. They could even have an app for the building with their own credit system. You would earn credits by doing work for the building, like work in the gardens, cleaning, or working at the farmers market selling extra produce. You could then 'spend' the credits by getting use of the buildings tools for your own use, like sewing a dress to sell. You could also buy services from other tenants, like paying a teenager in the building to babysit. Perhaps credits could be redeemed for rent reductions or for cash too. Tenants could get on the app to post service or goods they need or could provide. Another way to keep their costs down and build a strong community.

-Aquaponics: Simply put, you have a large tank of fish, they poop in the water, and you use this nitrogen rich water to help fertilize plants. They can be fish you to raise to eat (like tilapia) or 'pet' fish (like koi).

-Rich People: In this future, the divide between the 'haves' and 'have-nots' is even bigger. There are still the extremely rich people in society, living lifestyles not much affected by the changes. The market for luxury and designer goods is smaller, but it is still there. Felicity is a model for designer fashion, cosmetics and other similar products catering to that demographic.

-Michael Jackson (1958-2009): John was just 8 years old when he died, but would have heard all the news stories in the years that followed. After only a few weeks with a new personal physician, Jackson died of a massive overdose of the general anesthetic, Propofol. It is normally given in a hospital or clinical setting, with close monitoring, and is not indicated or approved as a sleep aid. Conrad Murray said he tried treating Jackson with other drugs, and claimed he only administered the propofol after Jackson insisted. Murray was convicted of involuntary manslaughter in 2011 and served two years of a four year sentence, his medical license suspended.

-Hair Ruffle: OK, Sherlock fans...hands up if you find Sherlock ruffling his curls damn adorable. Three examples: Sign of Three (when he takes off the guards hat), Empty Hearse (when he crashed through the window, before kissing Molly), and Blind Banker (right before John tells him he has a date with Sara).