Author's Note: hey everyone, congrats to you all for hitting the 1000 views mark, i'm really proud and everything, and well done for surviving the 2012 apocolypse! where were you when we were ment to die anyway? i was in a RE class...:( please tell me in a review or PM!

(P.S, if i cant post another chapter before christmas, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!)

The cab driver looked from Sherlock to Jim, shook his head and started the engine.

"And quickly, if you don't mind. I'll pay extra." With that, Sherlock fell silent. Jim decided to annoy Sherlock,

"yes, quickly please, our friend is in hospital and it could be fatal, depending on how fast we get there. if we cant tell the doctors his information soon he'll die, very painfully." Sherlock's hands curled into fists, but he stayed silent. When they arrived Jim got out straight away, leaving Sherlock to pay. Sherlock handed over the money without fuss and went into the hospital. He knew his way around easily, and he found his way straight to the lab. Jim followed, being greeted by many stupid "ex co workers" and sending winks to lots of women, and men.

Sherlock made a 'for God's sake' face. He was grateful for the lab when they arrived, immediately setting up test tubes and various pieces of equipment. Molly was working in the corner when Sherlock entered, and immediately she left her work and rushed to his side, her heart fluttering at the sight of his fresh clean shaven face,

"h-hello Sherlock, d-do you need any help?" Sherlock didn't even spare her a glance.

"I'm fine, thank you." He dropped a piece of the mud into a test tube to mix it with a chemical. Vegetation. Sherlock wrote on a piece of paper. He put the test tube aside and glanced at the computer screen, which was attempting to identify something from the mud. Moriarty waltzed in and walked over to Sherlock, glancing at molly. After seeing she was in the room, he decided to annoy her, instantly becoming "gayer than the day is long" as you might say, giving Sherlock a long, loving look as he walked over. Molly saw the door open, but only glanced up before looking back at Sherlock, then she realised- it was him. him. She wasn't sure what to think of this man, they had once been together after all, but what she had read about him, as well as what Sherlock was always muttering made her hate him, and the look he was giving Sherlock made her despise him.

Sherlock completely ignored the look; he was too interested in his work.

"Hmm. Asphalt. Vegetation and asphalt... Common in the centre of London, wouldn't surprise me... But there's more..." The computer beeped, alerting Sherlock. He frowned. "Vegetation, asphalt and... bleach. cleaning products?" Jim ran a finger down Sherlock's arm absent mindedly, causing molly to wince,

"really? What do you think that means?" Sherlock jerked his arm away, narrowing his eyes at Jim. He didn't realise that it probably looked like a 'not now!' look to Molly. Molly stormed off, slamming the door as she left. Moriarty laughed,

"I was right, that was fun..." Sherlock frowned.

"I don't understa- Oh. Jealousy. Right." He rolled his eyes.

"how predictable. No point correcting her, John's more important." Sherlock began to think. Where did those three ingredients come together? Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"She should move on, I have no interest in her. I gave her the same advice as you, you know."

"and what was that?"

"That she should break it off now and save herself the pain."

"so it started?" Jim raised an eyebrow jauntily.

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous. She thinks that there's a possibility of something."

"ah, how stupid." Molly came back in after calming down, the pretence being that she was getting tea. Sherlock glanced over, raising an eyebrow.

"You've changed your make-up. Barely noticeable, but it's been modified." Without saying anything else, he turned back to his work. Moriarty chuckled and leaned closer over him as molly put down Sherlock's tea and went straight back to her work, furious. Sherlock ignored it. He wasn't thirsty, but he didn't say anything about it. He also ignored Moriarty.

"nearly done yet Sherly?" Molly made a humph noise before continuing. Sherlock pushed his chair back angrily, the legs of the chair squeaking harshly. "Cleaning products... cleaning products..." Moriarty slid into Sherlock's chair and looked at him thoughtfully. Sherlock paced back and forth, clapping his hands and placing his fingers against his lips. Moriarty tilted his head on its side.

"need help?" He stayed silent. If he asked, John would be injured further... could his body take any more suffering?

"Sherly."

"What?" he snapped.

"no need to snap..." Moriarty began to text again, grinning mercilessly. Sherlock took a deep breath.

"My apologies. What did you want to ask." It was clearly killing him to be polite.

"I don't mind helping this time, John does have limited use and he would help, so I should too."

"Then please, go ahead."

"you'll want to think of who uses cleaning products."

"Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock answered immediately, mind racing through several possibilities at once, immediately dismissing some while placing others in his mind palace for later contemplation.

"exactly."

"But she wouldn't do anything to harm John. If anything, she would protect him."

"so? Why does that matter?"

"To 221B." Sherlock stood and swept towards the door. He paused beside Molly, though.

"Thanks for the tea, but I don't have time to stay and drink it." Like at Christmas, he swiftly kissed her on the cheek before leaving. Molly flushed red as Sherlock came close and was speechless as he kissed her, only mumbling a "th-thats okay, Sherlock..." once Moriarty had broken the spell with a saucy wink over Sherlock's shoulder.

"Another cab... I'll be bankrupt by the end of this, Jim."

"oh come on, we both know that inst true!" Jim laughed loudly, opening the main door for Sherlock.

"Well, not really." Sherlock smirked slightly as he passed through the door.

"I'd ask for some form of payment, but John will suffice."

"oh, now this is new. payment? since when did the oh-so-mighty Sherlock Holmes ask to be paid?"

"Lestrade insists on it sometimes when I solve some of his cases. I do need to keep up my half of the rent somehow." Sherlock waited for a cab on the side of the road impatiently.

"do you want me to take care of the cab problem Sherly?"

"I'm perfectly fine about it, no need."

"oh, are you sure? I don't wish to impose on you financially..." Jim's voice was dripping in sarcasm.

"It's fine, it's only a small amount of money from here to 221B in any case." Sherlock got into the cab, leaving the door open for Jim.

"what about later?"

"I don't need your help, Jim, not in this situation anyway..."

"fine, fine. don t say I didn't mention it though..."

"I won't." Sherlock tapped his foot on the car's carpet floor impatiently as the cab drove along. Moriarty started to listen to his wireless headphones again. Sherlock had to admit to himself, he was relieved to see 221B again, It had become a comfortable home for him. He leaped out of the cab, Jim would have to pay this time, he never said he wouldn't trick his way into getting Jim to pay. Jim laughed and leaned forward, mentioned a name to the driver and got out. he didn't carry cash. Never needed to.

As soon as he set foot in 221B, Sherlock opened his mouth to call for Mrs. Hudson, but he quickly shut it again. Perhaps it would be best to inspect himself, or wait for Jim to give some sort of direction. Jim strolled up the steps and sat on the handrail, waiting patiently.

Sherlock decided to step into Mrs. Hudson's kitchen before he called for either of them. Having known her for a long time, he knew where her cleaning products were; he crouched down to open the cupboard under the sink and searched through them, his brow furrowed in thought.

"It could be any of these..." Sherlock murmured, staring at the labels. "More likely to be a floor cleaner since it was found in some mud." Perhaps the kidnapper went into the flat's kitchen... in that case, Mrs. Hudson uses this particular cleaning product for our kitchen's floor. Sherlock selected one of the bottles and put it to the side. Jim heard Sherlock bumbling and waltzed -literally- into the tiny room, spinning slightly.

"how's it going?" In answer, he simply picked up the bottle he'd chosen and placed it on the counter. "Mrs. Hudson uses this product on the floor of the kitchen in the flat. It's probable that John was making tea when he was kidnapped - he has a habit of drinking far too much of it."

"hmmm, and apt deduction. where do you want to go?"

"Upstairs." Sherlock didn't explain his thoughts; he simply brushed past Moriarty and went up the stairs two at a time. Jim skipped after him and resumed his original position in Sherlock's chair, picking up his abandoned coffee and lighting another cigarette. Sherlock went straight to the kitchen. He bent over to look at the floor quickly; shiny. Cleaned recently. He straightened again and moved slowly through the room, head tilted to one side. Moriarty chuckled.

"Something funny, Jim?" Sherlock murmured, studying a mark on the counter.

"only you, as always, Sherly."

"Obviously." he replied dryly.

"done yet?"

"Yes." Sherlock left the kitchen to take a seat in John's armchair. it felt odd. He preferred his own. Jim smiled at Sherlock's awkwardness and blew smoke rings.

"where next, or are you stuck again?" Sherlock sighed and averted his gaze. It landed on his violin. He wanted to play it again, but now wasn't the time.

"I suppose you could once again play the part of John the Idea Conductor."

"oh, don't insult me, I know far more than he would, even if it wasn't my game."

"Obviously. Go on."

"fine, fine. your in the right building."