Okay, so this is my first fanfic. Ever. So please review it, I'd love to know what you all think.

This wasn't intended to be a one-shot, but if you all hate it, I'll stop there. If anybody likes it, I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible :)

Enjoy, hopefully! No warnings in this chapter, but be warned there WILL be later on. If it gets that far xD

-Sherlock's POV-

"Who was that?" Sherlock asked as John put down his phone. It was obvious, but he wanted to prove himself right. He knew it was that girl he spends an awful lot of time with… He just couldn't quite remember her name.

"Sarah." He replied

Ah, of course. The dull name matches the dull personality.

"What did she want?" Sherlock's voice sounded bored, even to himself. He could tell that she wanted to see him. Sooner rather than later, judging by John's growing look of frustration at being asked pointless questions and therefore having his time wasted.

Wait. John thought that Sherlock was wasting his time. That made Sherlock angry for reasons he wasn't quite sure of. He swung his legs off the sofa so he was sitting instead of lying down.

"I know that you already know, Sherlock. I'm not an idiot."


"Piss off. Anyway, I'm off out. I'll be back before 11."

Sherlock glanced at his watch. John had 2 hours, 13 minutes and 47 seconds. He sighed as he looked at the empty space on the mantelpiece where his skull should be. Damn Mrs. Hudson. That reminded him.

"Get some teabags while you're out, John!"

"Get them yourself," Sherlock heard John mutter just before he slammed the door.

"How rude." He said to himself, a frown on his face. He really did want some tea and they had none left. "Mrs Hudson?" He waited for a reply from downstairs.
"Yes, Sherlock dear?"

"I'll be needing some teabags. Within the next minute or so if possible."

"Just this once. I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper you know, Sherlock."

Sherlock chuckled, and was greeted by Mrs. Hudson in 32 seconds. Very efficient, he thought. He thanked her, and just as she was walking down the stairs;

"Mrs Hudson?"


"What have you done with my skull?"

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, dear."

The cheek of her, Sherlock thought. He now had 2 hours, 11 minutes and 22 seconds alone with nobody but himself to talk to. At least he had tea now. He stood up and grabbed the teabags Mrs. Hudson had left on his coffee table. He put one of them in a mug and poured some water into the kettle. He flicked it on and opened the fridge, and to be honest, he was quite surprised that John had bought some more milk. Shame about not remembering the teabags though. Ah, well. Mrs. Hudson's would do for now.

He finished making his tea and sat back down on the sofa, sipping his drink while contemplating what to do next. There were no cases to solve, even though he had informed Lestrade to alert him as soon as anything interesting came up. He had no experiments he currently wanted to perform, and anyway, he was still being closely watched from that incident with the eyeballs in the microwave. He put down his mug and found himself wishing that he had someone to talk to. He had no skull and no John, and he needed someone to listen to him thinking aloud.

He fetched his beloved violin from his room and decided to turn his thoughts into music. He wasn't sure how it worked, it just happened from all that he could deduce. This evening, he was quite surprised to hear that the tunes he was plucking out were rather melancholy. This confused him, as however bored he may be right now, he wasn't at all sad, was he? He certainly had no reason to be sad. He and John had fun during the daytime, whether it be mocking Anderson or shouting at crappy telly. John went out most evenings, leaving him with the alone time he craved so much… His brain paused at this. He didn't quite seem to be enjoying his alone time as much as usual. Probably because Mrs. Hudson had his skull. Yes, that was it. He missed his skull. He smiled slightly at this simple conclusion, but couldn't help thinking that there was something more.

Not that he could dwell on it much, as his thoughts were interrupted by John coming back. That was odd, he was home 1 hour, 36 minutes and 53 seconds earlier than he said he would be. He was out for less than half the time he had estimated. Therefore, something had happened to cut the date short. He would have asked what, but then he thought that it might have been insensitive.

Hang on. He was Sherlock Holmes. Since when was he bothered by sensitivity? Since now, apparently.


"Let me get in the door for Christ's sake."

Sherlock could hear a hint of something unfamiliar in his voice… Sadness, perhaps. Embarrassment, a bit of remorse, maybe even some shock. He didn't, however, get the anger he had been expecting. He came to the conclusion that Sarah had dumped him. But he wasn't at all angry. That changed things. From what he had observed, people usually got angry when someone they cared about cast them aside. So John must have dumped her. Well that was unexpected.

John sat down on the armchair that was now his, and put his head in his hands. This shocked Sherlock; he wasn't used to seeing his flatmate like that, and wasn't sure how to handle it. However much he wanted to be sensitive, he wasn't sure he knew how.

"Um, John? Are you okay?" He asked as soothingly as was possible for him.

"I'm fine," His voice was muffled slightly from his hands. "Did you get teabags?" He said, looking up.

Sherlock pointed over to the ones that Mrs. Hudson had given him earlier.

John stood up, but then so did Sherlock, who made his way over to the kitchen faster than John could. He decided the friendly gesture of making his flatmate tea, which he hardly ever did, was going to be Sherlock's own little way of showing that he didn't want to pry. And from the grateful look on John's face, he accepted it.

As Sherlock was making yet more tea, he noticed a flicker of a smile trying to break through on his lips. It was followed by a frown. What kind of an insensitive bastard would smile when his best friend had just broken up with his girlfriend? Then he remembered.

He would.

He winced slightly at this thought. That couldn't be the reason he was smiling, could it? That John and Sarah had split up? No, Sherlock thought. It was merely because he was happy to have someone to talk to at a time when he was so… Bored.

Yet again, he felt like there was more to it than that. He wondered what it was, but however much he deduced about himself, he just couldn't find any reason at all. But he was sure there was. Even though this frustrated him a great deal, he decided to leave it be, because the only reason he wouldn't be able to find out was if his brain was trying to hide something from him. And it did far too much of a good job of it for his liking.

He walked over and handed John his tea.

"Thanks." The smaller man said quietly, and then sighed before putting the mug to his mouth.

Sherlock sat down, looking at John intently, trying to deduce what sparked the break-up. And for the life of him, he didn't know. His eyes narrowed slightly and a frown formed on his face. They had seemed perfectly happy together. John definitely liked her a lot more than he had ever let on. So why would he dump her? He was deep in thought, and hadn't noticed John looking at him with one of his eyebrows raised.

"So, how much have you managed to deduce so far, Sherlock?" His voice sounded worn out and slightly spiteful. He could tell that John didn't want to talk about it, so Sherlock shook his head.

"It doesn't matter," He said, but then realised that this might sound like he didn't care. And he did. However weird that may be for Sherlock, he had to admit it to himself. He didn't like seeing John upset. "I mean, it's none of my business, is it?"

John stared down at the carpet. Something clicked in Sherlock.

"It's to do with me, isn't it?" He asked, scared that John hated him for… Whatever it was he had done. He saw John shut his eyes and lift up his head.

"Yes... Well, not directly, at least."
What? Really, what? John was being far too cryptic.

"Then why did you break up with her?"

John frowned at him. "You're losing your touch. She ended it with me."
Damn. Wasn't expecting that.

"What? Why? Aren't you supposed to be angry about this?"

John laughed gently. "No, not at all. I completely understand why she did it. In fact, I completely agreed with her reasons. I don't blame her at all."
"Then why are you so upset?" Sherlock was extremely confused. He was still a very long way off understanding the emotions and reasoning of normal people.

"It just… Brought home a few things that I really wasn't really prepared to admit to myself. That's all. I'm not upset, I'm just," He sighed. Again. "Not really sure how I feel right now. Or how I should feel, for that matter."

Sherlock's veil of confusion lifted with the realisation that he could actually relate to that. For the first time in his life, Sherlock was able to relate to a person. This gave him a strange feel of contentedness. But he was still curious.

"So, why does Sarah feel that she has to break up with you because of me?" And the fact that John agreed with her on this matter was more than slightly intriguing.

"It doesn't matter," came John's completely unsatisfying response. "And if you don't mind, I think I want to get to bed now."

Sherlock did mind. He minded a great deal, actually. But he wasn't going to press John for answers right now. Maybe he'd feel better in the morning. He watched John walk up the stairs, and heard his bedroom door open and shut. He picked up his violin again, and this time the tune was different. It still had it's underlying melancholy, but it also had some happier tunes; It was almost as if it were encouraging him, saying, "I understand."

Well at least someone did.

So... What did you think? REVIEW TIME! Tell me what was good, what was bad, whether I should carry on, etc and you shall receive a limited edition hug from SherlockMuser. Call me Mary if you want xD

Thanks for taking your time for reading this, I really appreciate it :)