The day started out like any other; John practically falling out of bed after smelling something odd coming from downstairs. He staggered downstairs, "Sherlock," he slurred, tiredly.
"Ah John, good morning," Sherlock said, oddly cheery.
John only had to glance out the window to know the time, he was to tired to focus on the clock. "Sherlock it is the middle of the night, why aren't you in bed," he murmured and sniffed the air, screwing up his face in disgust, "Sherlock, what is that smell," He asked exasperated.
"I'm timing how long saliva is to-," John interrupted him before he felt he no longer wanted to eat breakfast, "Never mind Sherlock, why are you doing it at," he squinted at the clock, "Three thirty in the morning?"
"Because John it could not wait," Sherlock insisted and turned back to his experiment, ignoring John completely. John seeing Sherlock in one of his moods, he walked to the kitchen and fixed himself some tea. He sat down in his chair and grabbed the paper from yesterday. Sipping his tea as the sun came up he let Sherlock have his fun.
He jerked awake and saw that Sherlock was gone. He sighed and ran a sore hand over his face. Sherlock had probably gone to St. Bart's to torture Molly or whip a dead body, he'd be back soon enough. He glanced at the clock, ten thirty. "Thank god for weekends," he mumbled and got up to take a shower.
Sherlock stormed into the flat, "Stupid Anderson, I swear, he drains my mind faster than-," there was a knock at the door, he ignored it and swiped John's laptop, easily hacking into it. The knocking persisted and it was starting to get on Sherlock's nerves, "Mrs. Hudson, get the door," he shouted. There was no response. "John-," he called.
"Mrs. Hudson is away visiting her sister, Sherlock," John shouted from the bathroom.
"John get the door," Sherlock demanded.
"I'm in the bathroom Sherlock!"
"So get the door!"
"You get the bloody door, Sherlock," John yelled through the door.
Sherlock sighed in frustration and got up and stormed down the stairs. He thrust open the door, "Who are you and what do you want?" He growled.
The tall red headed man looked undaunted by Sherlock's tone. "Hello, Me name's Finny," The man said with a heavy Scottish brogue.
"So, what do you want?"
"I'm here to kill Doctor John Watson, do you happen to know where he is?"