It's Not Over Yet : SHERLOCK Season 5

The Ephemeral Symphony

"Sherlock, I'm assuming you're happy that I'm back in 221B, but please do me a favor." John said to the consulting detective.

"What is it, John?"

"I need you to give me all your injections and drugs and stuff so I can throw them away."

Sherlock stayed silent with his back towards him while John looked at him with piercing eyes.

"Okay, fine," he sighed. "The cups in the cupboard."

John walked into the kitchen and found the injections inside the cups. He knew he couldn't outsmart Sherlock, but he at least tried to be a bit close to outsmarting him. He grabbed his coat and took the injections with him, walking to a random bin outside to throw them in there. If Sherlock somehow would figure out in which bin he threw them, he at least had to walk a while to get them. When he came back to the flat he saw him in his mind palace position. But when Sherlock heard him, he immediately stood up.

"Cuppa tea?" The consulting detective asked while already walking into the kitchen, knowing the answer would be a yes.

"Yes, please."

Sherlock knew exactly how John liked his tea, so he made sure he did it right. He had watched John making tea once and he stored it in his mind palace, in case it would be useful, like now. He handed John his tea and when he took a sip he mumbled something among the lines of Sherlock knowing how he liked his bloody tea. He stared at the blogger with a grin on his face. He threw himself on the couch again, finishing his tea quickly.

"John, I'm bored."

"Don't shoot the wall this time."

"I promised Mrs. Hudson I wouldn't do it anymore."

"That's good. Need a case?"

"Yes."

"I'm sure Greg has a case for you."

"Who?"

"Greg Lestrade."

"Okay I'll call him."

When Lestrade finally gave him a case, Sherlock was jumping like a little child again, flapping his hands.

"Found one, I see?" John raised his eyebrow at him.

"Yes!" Sherlock replied with a very excited tone.

Mrs. Hudson mumbled a silent 'Oh boys...' as the two ran downstairs.

"So what's it about?" John asked as they got into a cab.

"Julius Lars Magnussen, famous componist and Charles Augustus Magnussen his brother. His piano piece got stolen. May sound boring but when he came to the police he sounded extremely desperate to get it back, must be something behind it."

"Ah... Ofcourse there's something behind it..."

Sherlock could sense that he wasn't sure about it. He looked straight into his eyes, reading his expression.

"Okay, you definitely got a question," the younger Holmes brother said. "Shoot."

"Where are we going?"

"His house."

"Oh, yeah, I could've known..." John sighed disappointedly.

Once they arrived at Julius Lars Magnussen his house, he greeted the pair and let them in.

"Where's the living room?" Sherlock asked.

"Follow me."

And so he did. He looked at the living room. It had his piano in the middle of the room, a bookcase completely filled with CD's and books placed next to the window. He took another good look at the bookcase, some little envelopes peeked out of the top of the pages of the books.