The Hounds Of Baskerville (Sherlock Holmes X OC)

ONE- A Rabbit, John

Anita was sitting at the dining table in the living room, writing up reports. Lestrade said she could go home earlier if she promised to write up the reports from there. Of course Anita agreed, so now she was on her last report. John was sitting in his chair, looking through the paper. They had set up a peaceful place for them to both work, neither of them talking much. Then the living room door burst open.

John and Anita's heads shot up at the sudden noise, looking over at Sherlock as he walked into the room. The pair's eyes widened at the sight of him. He was holding a harpoon, wearing black trousers and a white shirt. And he was covered in blood.

"Well, that was tedious," Sherlock said, breathing heavily.

"You went on the Tube like that?" John questioned.

"None of the cabs would take me," Sherlock said, bitterly.

"And you've no idea why?" Anita asked him sarcastically, holding back a giggle.

A few minutes later, Sherlock showered and changed into a clean set of clothing with his blue dressing gown over the top. He was still carrying the harpoon around, pacing rapidly between the door and window, looking around repeatedly at Anita and John. Anita had just finished her last report, emailing it off to Lestrade, while John was flicking through the newspaper.

"Nothing?" Sherlock asked, impatiently.

"Military coup in Uganda," John offered. Anita got up and grabbed another paper, trying to help look for a case. Sherlock was getting antsy.

"Hmm," Sherlock said as Anita chuckled in amusement as she saw something in one of the papers.

"Another photo of you with the, er..." Anita said as she pointed at the photograph of Sherlock wearing the deerstalker. He made a disgusted noise and Anita smiled at him. Anita thought it was an amusing joke the press was playing on him.

"Oh, um, Cabinet reshuffle," John said.

"Nothing of importance?" Sherlock asked, furiously. He slammed the end of the harpoon onto the ground and started yelling again.

"Oh, God!" he cried, then turned his gaze to Anita, intensely.

"Anita, I need some. Get me some." Anita didn't even look up from her paper.

"No," she told him, calmly.

"Get me some," Sherlock tried again.

"No. Cold turkey, we agreed, no matter what," Anita told him, sternly as she pointed the newspaper at him. He turned to John, who gave him a pointed look, and then leaned his harpoon against the dining table.

"Anyways, you've paid everyone off, remember? No-one within a two mile radius will sell you any," John said.

"Stupid idea. Whose idea was that?" Sherlock questioned. Anita and John glanced at each other before looking at him pointedly. Sherlock then looked towards the door.

"Mrs. Hudson!" he shouted, but Anita was quick to discourage this.

"Hey! Don't bring Mrs. Hudson into this," she said as he started to hurl paperwork off the table, desperately searching.

"Look, Sherlock, you're doing really well. Don't give up now," John reasoned as Sherlock continued to search, frantically.

"Tell me where they are. Please. Tell me," he pleaded. John and Anita opted to remain silent. Sherlock straightened up and looked over at John, who held strong. Then Sherlock turned to Anita and gave her the puppy-dog eyes. Anita narrowed her eyes at him.

"Can't help, sorry," she said.

"I'll let you two know next weeks' lottery numbers," Sherlock bargained, looking between the two as they began to chuckle.