Lines and Numbers (Johnlock)

Chapter 1

Sherlock was making breakfast while I read the morning newspaper.

"Looks like some affair went on with-" "She cheated on him, so he went for the other woman," he said from the next room. Really, he deduces everything. Even the newspaper...

He set a plate of eggs, sausages, and toast in front of me, and sat down with another cup of coffee. Recently he'd been taking it black.

"So, Lestrade told me about a series of 'accidental' deaths he thinks I should investigate. He suspects they might be murders. Will you come?" He asked. I nodded. "Sure. I usually come, don't I?"

He nodded too, taking a sip of coffee. "I was 95% sure you'd say yes. Thank you."

"For what? Coming with you?"

"No, for making me right."

Later that day, Sherlock and I went to look around the scene of the death. "Hullo, John, Sherlock," Lestrade said, shaking my hand and just giving a nod to Sherlock. "Everything's over-"

Sherlock pushed past him, looking tired and a little grouchy, unlike how he's usually was on a case. "Woah, what's his problem?" Lestrade asked, looking toward me, confused.

"Not sure." I shrugged. "He's not usually like that." I followed him quietly. He took out his glass and started inspecting the ground, and then the ground in a 15 ft. radius from where the body was found.

"What do you notice?" I asked. I looked around as I waited for his answer, but he just grunted, shrugged his shoulders and continued. "Sherlock, what's going on? You're not usually this-"

"Shut up, John!" He hissed, then sighed. "I'm sorry. Can you please just let me concentrate?"

I stared at him, confused and a little hurt. "Okay, I'll just go over there..." I muttered, going over to Lestrade and Sally. She locked eyes with me. "What'd I tell you? You can't make friends with someone like him." I glared and turned to Lestrade, not in a good mood.

"Sherlock's acting strange. I'm not sure why, but I'll keep an eye out in case I'm not noticing something."

"Oh, god. He'd better not show up in an abandoned building with a ton of-"

"Christ, Lestrade. He won't. I've made sure of that. Just- I don't know. I just... Let me try to figure it out, okay. I'll tell Mycroft later, but he'll probably contact me first."

Lestrade sighed and looked down, shaking his head, then looked up toward Sherlock, who was poking at something small laying on the ground next to the corpse. "I don't know how you do it, John, but hopefully you can deal with him longer than the rest of us."