Author's note: this fanfiction is set in an AU where John and Mary have divorced or maybe before they even met. For the purposes of this story, Mary does not exist.
John paced the room, worried. Sherlock seemingly hasn't moved for the past two days. He hadn't ate, drank, or even got out of his chair. No case seemed to excite him, and with only John's measly wages money was running low.
"Sherlock, you have to move, eat, anything! This is absurd! I can't keep doing this anymore. Mrs. Hudson need the money from our rent!"
No reply. A grunt. John clenched up inside and gritted his teeth.
"Sherlock, I am sick and tired of this act you're putting on. I'm going out."
John threw on his coat and exited the house.
Sherlock heard the door slam. His phone ring. He ignored it. Everything was so boring, so... Agh! He desperately needed to focus on something, his thoughts had been hazy and unclear lately for some reason. A phone rang again, not his this time, and soon enough Mrs. Hudson entered the open door
"It's for you, Sherlock!"
Sherlock took the phone and placed it to his ear. "Hello?"
When John returned, the room was chaos. Papers flying everywhere, books on the floor, Sherlock rapidly browsing the bookshelf and tossing out a book every so often.
"Sherlock...?"
"A case, John, I've got a case!"
"Oh! Lestrade, I suppose?"
Sherlock did not answer, so John suppressed a smile and went into the kitchen to make tea.
It turns out this case was one that had the officers at Scotland yard baffled for some while. A woman has been murdered in her locked home with no signs of forced entry, no obvious wounds and no signs of a struggle. Her friends all said that they thought everything was fine, although she had been acting a little strange lately. Sherlock was furious that Lestrade hasn't told him about it so he could visit the crime scene fresh, and after skimming through numerous thick textbooks he lunged for his coat and scarf and shouted over his shoulder for John to follow him. They were going to the crime scene.
