Authors note: Based on one of my favorite scenes from the Jeremy Brett series

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Sherlock

John had come to the conclusion that 221B Baker Street was well overdue for a spring clean. Mrs Hudson was away with a friend for the fortnight, and since then the flat had fallen into a state of decay. No matter how many times the woman protested that she was 'not their housekeeper'. She was the sole reason for anything which resembled order in the flat.

John had known about Sherlock's less than conventional housekeeping style since the beginning; a single look at the flat had told him that. However, this was something entirely different. The sea of decay had almost tripled in size since the beginning of his new case. Sherlock was stressed, that was evident enough, and was acting even more sporadically than usual. The past hour had been spent tearing all of the books from his carefully organised shelves, in the attempt to find some obscure reference from an ancient Greek philosopher…John still didn't quite understand.

Once he had found what he was looking for, Sherlock had ran out of the flat, without saying a word. John sighed. He had no idea where his friend was running off to, and resigned himself to the task of restoring the order that Sherlock had destroyed. Sherlock would text if he needed him.

One by one he replaced the books back to their rightful place on the shelves. It took him almost two hours, until at last he came to the final book. A small black leather notebook with "Sherlock Holmes" printed across the front in elegant golden letters. He almost opened the book, but just as he turned to the first page, Sherlock burst through the door, looking very pleased with himself as he collapsed onto the couch.

"Case go well?" John asked, taking a seat next to Sherlock.

Sherlock grinned "Excellent Watson, though rather simplistic really, when you get down to the facts."

John nodded absent-mindedly, and then gestured to the book in his hands "Sherlock…what's this?" He passed the book over to his friend.

"Oh this?" Sherlock asked, subtly pocketing the small book into the pocket of his jacket "Not much. Just some notes on previous cases. Before I had my wonderful blogger, of course."

"Previous cases? Sherlock. You have notes of your previous cases?" John exclaimed in astonishment. He found himself desperate to see the contents of the book, wishing he had grasped the chance before.

Sherlock just shook his head, smirking slightly. "Of course I kept a record of my cases. To do so otherwise, would have been a grievous error" Sherlock stood up gracefully "Now, if you'll excuse my Watson, I'll be going to bed now, I think I'm in need of some rest."

"…but Sherlock…."

"Good night John."