A/N- Planning on ending at chapter 50 so prepare yourselves...sorry for the really short chapter.
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White snowflakes dropped down from the stormy sky, piling up on the streets outside. The detective was determined on ending the most recent adventures with Moriarty and sat with his legs propped up in an armchair with the laptop resting upon his knees. His eyes were beginning to feel tired from staring into the screen, reviewing any evidence he could recall as to end this time and silence the criminal's activity.
The flat had been empty and silent all day, as the other occupants were busy at work. Lottie was in a studio for recording a series of shows that would premier later and she had to change looks throughout the day to make it look like she had recorded episodes on different days. Then there was John, who had to sit in his office and listen to the complaints of all his patients. Repetitive movements and diagnosing sometimes drove him up a while, making him show up home bitterly sarcastic.
Strange numbering codes began to flash on the screen of Sherlock's laptop and he ignored it, feeling frustrated about how he didn't have any leading information. He passed it off as an error since his laptop was old enough for that kind of a malfunction. He continued to look up information all day and forgot to eat anything again on a case. Not even the dimming light managed to be a distraction.
"Hey there, smart one. You look...busy." Lottie greeted.
"Hmm?" He finally looked up, hurting his head and eyes from the sudden disconnection.
"You've been sitting there all day."
"Yes...? And...?"
"Have you eaten anything? At all?"
"Mmm....nope."
"Sherlock, get up now. You are going for a walk and I won't let you back in for the next half hour." She bossed.
He humphed and stood up from his chair, walking up to the girl so his height was exaggerated in comparison to hers. Even though she was quite tall so her height wasn't as small as Sherlock would've hoped for his technique. Nevertheless, this feature was admirable in the detective's opinion. Her piercing eyes flickered upwards to meet his as they paired with a smirk.
"You can't force me to leave the flat." His deep voice mumbled down to her.
"Yes I can. And that's what I'm doing. Out, Sherlock." She pointed to the door.
"No."
"You sure you want to do this?"
"You can't beat me-"
The door opened to reveal John's small frame and both arguing people glanced over to him, increasing the distance between themselves. Lottie hopped down the stairs as the doctor went up to his best friend, sighing in relief as he was finally at home from work. He greeted Sherlock, who had gone back to his computer, and helped himself to whatever he found in the kitchen. The girl remained silent downstairs and never bothered to come back out through the whole evening.
"So you've just sat there all day?" John asked between bites of a delicious plate of buttered, golden biscuits and a cup of tea.
"Problem?" The detective replied jokingly.
"Not at all. What's with the flashing numbers?"
"Malfunction."
"Looks more of a code. Same numbers appearing and they're probably for a message."
Sherlock furrowed his brows and began trying to decode the note, realizing that the doctor must've been correct. He sat quietly in the darkness while John cleaned up and ended up passing out on the couch from exhaustion. The number symbols matched up practically the same way that the Chinese coding did. The memory was still well preserved in the detective's mind so he memorized the note's numbers and searched through the flat's miniature library. He flipped through books for hours on end, pairing words together to see what made the most sense. Unfortunately, Sherlock fell asleep amidst his pile of books in the wee hours of the morning, even before the other two residents had to wake up for work.
