The Ballad of Mona Lisa

Chapter 1- Bored

Sherlock sat in his small, cluttered flat on the outskirts of London. He was bored out of his mind and was trying desperately not to shoot the wall again. His landlord wasn't particularly fond of coming home to a shot-up wall.

Sherlock was in his early twenties, and still acted quite like a child in his dealings with people. He still looked back with fondness on the days when he aspired to be a pirate and sometimes, he still wore his eyepatch around his flat. Of course, he'd never admit to it if asked. As far as anyone else was concerned, Sherlock had given up his pirate dream years and years ago.

He was currently clad in his pajamas, flannel pants and a t-shirt, sitting in his favorite chair, legs swung over the right side and head dangling over the left. He rarely sat in it the way most people would. He preferred to choose random, and rather odd, positions to sit in... Regardless of who was in the room. It helped him to think better. He sat there and pulled his green bathrobe tighter around him as a breeze fluttered through the flat. He'd forgotten to close the window and didn't feel inclined to do so now, so he just huddled deeper into his old robe. It was passed time for a new one, but he just never seemed to get around to it. He sighed and let his head lull back, so he was looking across the room upside down. So booooored!

This was how Detective Inspector Lestrade found him. Lestrade knocked and Sherlock hollered that it was open. He entered and hurried into the living room, slightly out of breath.

"What is it? What's happened this time?" Sherlock asked, twisting around to look at the man right side up. Something was wrong. Something was VERY wrong.

"We've got another one," the man said, finally getting his breath back, slight fear in his eyes.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," Sherlock replied. He hopped off his chair and hurried into his room, implying there was nothing further to be said and he could show himself out. Lestrade pulled out his phone as he got back into the squad car and it pulled away. He texted Sherlock the address and the details, although he had a suspicion that he already knew. He had ways of just knowing these things.

Sherlock threw on some clothes and made his way out the door. He ended up wearing dark jeans, a royal blue button-up dress shirt, a black suit jacket that had a dark gray hood sewn in (it came that way and he didn't take time to question it too much), and a pair of black Vans shoes. He never paid too much attention to what he threw on in moments like this. Mycroft would disapprove, but Sherlock really didn't care. He was finally on another case! And this one was a very promising one. His eyes sparkled in excitement as he made his way outside and hailed a cab.

Finally, something FUN to do!