Rain echoed on the roof and windows, with the occasional clap of thunder. No lightning, though that certainly would've helped to light the room, if only for a second. The power had gone out, leaving an aggravated landlady and an annoyed detective. Outside, John shook the rain off of his coat before stepping inside, hoping to avoid anyone noticing he was home late, as the news he had was some he wanted to make a larger deal of in the morning. There was a slight creak, drowned out by the rain, so quiet that nobody would be able to hear it.

Well, except for one man, of course.

"John's here," Sherlock announced, standing up from the sofa and walking toward Mrs. Hudson. "See? Nothing to worry about." The old woman looked up, confused. "But Sherlock, he's not in he-"
"Oh. I thought… oh, hello, Mrs. Hudson," John said, walking in the living room.

"Oh, hello, dear! I'm sorry for being here so late at night, but I was worried where you'd gone, and came here to talk to Sherlock, see if he'd know," Mrs. Hudson fluttered about, attempting to light candles quickly. "I tried to explain to her that I know nothing of your whereabouts, but it seems as though our landlady was rather worried about you." He glanced up from his microscope, before a look of knowing crossed his eyes. Within a second, he looked back down. "However, if I could've taken a simple look at you, I'd have known. How was your date with Mary- oh, I suppose I should be saying congratulations first. That's what friends are supposed to do, yes?"

Mrs. Hudson cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean, dear?"
John's jaw slacked, and he cleared his throat. "Oh, why… thank you. But how could you possibly know I'm engaged?"
"You're engaged?" Mrs. Hudson asked excitedly. John grinned back and nodded, before Sherlock interjected. "So glad you asked how. When you left, you had on a brown tux, new from what I can understand- no tailor marks misplaced stitches or re-hemming done- instead of the rather tasteless jumpers you usually wear on your dates with Mary. You were also wearing new shoes and had a thin but noticeable sheen of sweat on your forehead, and now you've come home not only smelling of her perfume, but also with her lipstick and mascara smeared on your neck, meaning she probably was crying and hugging you. And, there's that obviously glowing and goofy look of yours on your face when a date goes well, and since this one was so much happier than usual when you walked in just now, that means it was much better news than that, leading me to believe you were engaged, which has been confirmed due to your question of how I knew."

There was a pause, and John shook his head. "I don't even know how you caught all that, but… thank you, I guess. Could've done without the remark about my jumpers, though."
"Oh, dearie, congratulations!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, hugging John. "What an exciting milestone in your life. If you need anything for the wedding, I have a niece who is a planner."
"Which one, the drunk or the drug dea-"
"Take a day off, Sherlock," John said firmly, and unlike the last time he'd said it, Sherlock caught what he meant and shut his mouth, returning to his work.

"Oh, it's past midnight! I should probably be going now," Mrs. Hudson smiled kindly and began to take her leave. "Have a safe night, boys! The power should be back on within a few minutes; the rain has lightened up a great amount. And congratulations again, John." When she opened the door, she made a sound of remembrance and took two envelopes out of her bag. "Oh, you two have gotten some mail. John, you got some kind of cologne sample, I believe. And Sherlock, I'm not sure what this is… fancy that, a wax seal! I haven't seen those in years." She handed it to Sherlock, and he grunted his thanks, taking the letter and setting it beside his microscope. John quickly took the sample and stuffed it in his pocket, sighing since junk mail seemed to be all he received those days.

Intrigued by Sherlock's letter, he walked over to the table and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. "Sherlock, this looks important. Don't you think you should open it?" Sherlock scoffed and shook his head. "Another star struck fan who figured out where we lived. The wax seal is a dead giveaway. For whatever reason, they believe that I'll find it cute that they reference Harry Potter and 'we're both British!'" He finished his sentence in a high pitched imitation of a girl. John rolled his eyes. "Well then, the least you could do is answer it, yeah? They went through a lot of trouble making this."
"Not worth my time."
"Fine, then I'll answer it."
"Be my guest."

An irritated exhale escaped from John's mouth, shaking his head in dismay at his friend before sitting down at the table across from him and carefully peeling off the wax. He reached in and took the paper out, unfolding it and smirking. "All that time on the envelope, and they use notebook paper to write the…" he frowned and his eyebrows furrowed. "Sherlock?"
Sherlock grunted- a signal that usually meant "shut up, I don't care".
"No, Sherlock, really."

When he looked up, his angry glare immediately turned to confusion. "What's that?"
John scanned the paper yet again, before looking up. "It's a death threat."
Sherlock blinked, and a ghost of a smile appeared before he looked back down. "Not important."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about? Sherlock, a life is being-"
"I get death threats all the time, John," Sherlock replied quickly. "Just read the submissions to my blog. Believe it or not, a lot of people aren't exactly my biggest fan."
"Sherlock, this death threat isn't for you," John said, his voice carrying the same serious tone it had before.
Sherlock looked up. "Even if it's for you John, you're perfectly safe. People don't mess with military vet-"
"It's for Molly."

I'm baaaaack! Here's a new story for you guys, I'll have the next chapter up as soon as possible! :) I love any feedback at all, so if it's negative or positive, I'd love to hear it. Thank you!