John was still looking at the door in bewilderment, when the damn thing opened again. In strode Sherlock, just slipping a black leather glove over his hand. He stood there on the threshold to the flat and looked at John.

"As you seem to have nothing better to do, I was wondering whether you would consider joining me. Lestrade and especially his colleagues are all rather dumb and I don't work with them. Wanna come along?" Sherlock asked, a smile spreading over his face.

John wasn't the least bit surprised that people didn't want to work with Sherlock. What he had seen so far was enough to know how unbearable Sherlock could be. Still, as he joyed with the idea of going with Sherlock he couldn't help but acknowledge that the decision came to him quite easily.

"Sure, why not." John said and hoisted himself out of the armchair with the help of his cane. He got his coat and together they made their way downstairs.

Lestrade was waiting for them. He had hailed a cab and Sherlock got in without further hesitation. John slipped into the cab as well and Lestrade went to close the door before settling on a seat opposite Sherlock and John.

"Greg Lestrade", the man introduced himself, extending his hand for John to take. He smiled and John shook his hand.

"John Watson", came his responds while smiling back at Greg.

"So, how do you know Sherlock?" he asked, looking from John to Sherlock and back gain with a questioning look.

"We are Flatmates." John answered, seeing how the questioning look disappeared from Lestrade's face and was replaced with the same bewilderment John had felt only minutes before.

"How has he managed that? Does he pay you or have you actually spike a different interest in him?" John couldn't help laughing about Greg's face. "No, I think it is just convenient for the both of us."

"He wouldn't ask the convenient bloke to tag along to accompany him to a client. At least he thinks you've got brains or something else which qualifies you in his eyes." John looked up again, meeting Greg's gaze, a reassuring smile playing around the corner of his lips.

John then looked over to where Sherlock was currently staring out the window probably ignoring their conversation.

" How long have you known him?" Greg asked, gesturing with his head towards Sherlock. John couldn't help, but shake his head and while grinning. If he told Greg he had only met Sherlock yesterday- he thought the man would probably declare him as being mental. Still, John didn't think lying would be for the best so he told the truth.

"We met yesterday, actually." John stated, hoping that Greg wouldn't think of him all that bad now. But as John looked at the man he only saw a mix of surprise and irritation displayed on his face.

Next to him Sherlock suddenly gave a sign of life, sighing exasperated and snapping, " Oh, for God's sake, Lestrade. It's convenient as John just rightfully stated." The man opposite them laughed loudly, shaking his head all the while.

"Sure, Sherlock. Please explain to me than why you asked him to come along if it only is convenience." Lestrade smirked, but Sherlock only graced his statement with a dismissive hand wave before going back to staring out of the window.

They rode the rest of the way in silence. Sherlock kept staring out of the and John had drifted off with his thoughts.

Ten minutes later they arrived at a small secluded hotel. A woman with olive skin and dark brown hair greeted Lestrade at the entrance.

"Hey Greg, good you're here. She is furious. Anderson really fucked this one up. I tried to calm her, but she wouldn't hear any of it." She eyed Sherlock, letting her eyes roam over his long figure up until her eyes met his. "What do you want, freak?" She asked, her face showing annoyance with a trace of malignancy.

Sherlock though, instead of getting hug up on her attitude, just displayed a horrifying smile on his face and asked, "How was scrubbing the floor at Anderson's? By the state of your knees you seemed to have rather enjoyed it." The woman's mouth fell open, but she regained control over herself quite quickly.

John couldn't help but smile about Sherlock and his insanity as well as being amazed by Sherlock's constant deductions about everyone around him. It was quite frankly incredible what the man did.

He walked past her coat flapping behind him as he entered the hotel. Lestrade, John and the woman followed.

Once inside Greg directed all of them to a group of chairs. Lestrade and his colleague settle into two chairs. Sherlock stood by, looking annoyed and didn't even seem to consider sitting down. John on the other hand was rather confused by the whole situation not knowing, why or how and even whom he was listening to as the brown haired woman launched a detailed description of their current client.

It was a fair while later when the woman- Sally- had finally finished her speech. John, who had sat down somewhere along the way now stood up as Sherlock vanished in the direction of Jennifer Wilson's room.

Lestrade rose as well while saying, " Thank you, Sally. You can take the rest of the day off and tell Anderson he has to do better next time if he wants to keep his job." Her curls bounced as she rose to her feet as well and she called a "Sure thing" over her shoulder as she left, the glass door swinging shut behind her.

"Now onto the next task. Better keep an eye on Sherlock or Jennifer Wilson will destroy my reputation forever." Lestrade smiled and together the two men made their way down the hallway towards the client's room.

Unfortunately, they weren't as lucky as they had hoped. The hallway was deserted and as they stood in front of the closed door, they could hear a woman shriek, "Who do you think you are?" from within the room.

Greg sighed next to him and pinched the bridge of his nose. So, not a first for him then. He raised his hand to knock, but the door was opened just in that moment. Sherlock stood in the door, his face showing bewilderment and his right cheek was bright red. In the shape of a hand.

Greg was trying to stifle his laughter, but couldn't do more than snort with laughter rather than laughing out loud. John himself was coughing violently, amused and feeling guilty at the same time. One simply wasn't supposed to laugh about these things, but Sherlock certainly deserved that after his sulk.

Sherlock's stare was icy when his eyes locked with Lestrade's and the man instantly stifled his laughter, coughed and was silent. He then stared down John, though his eyes weren't as cold anymore as they had been with Greg.

"Calm her", he hissed through gritted teeth and opened the door wide so John and Greg were able to step into the room.

Lestrade shortly padded the man on the shoulder before he engaged in a conversation with the agitated woman currently sitting on the bed.

John kept standing next to Sherlock, seeing the red spot on his pale cheek darken and the print of Jennifer's hand becoming clearer by the minute. There was a small smirk playing around John's lips as he looked at the taller man. Sherlock's expression still showed a bit of surprise, but he was hiding it pretty well. The only thing giving him away was an alien glint in his usually cold and composed eyes.

It took Greg about fifteen minutes before his client was willing to speak to Sherlock once again. During this time Sherlock stayed silent by John's side. He tended to shift from one foot to the other or crook his head then and again, but other than that there was no other movement nor sound other than the soft murmur of Greg's and Mrs. Wilson's conversation.

Mrs. Wilson took a seat in a plush armchair, Sherlock seated himself opposite her, dragging a beaten, wooden chair over from the matching desk. She was playing around with her hands, looking down at them as she kneaded the palm of her left hand.

Greg came over to stand next to John, but on his way his hand found its way on Sherlock's shoulder once again and he mumbled, "Try being nice for once, would you". Sherlock seemed to have ignored the comment for all John could as the man didn't even look at Greg for a split second. Instead, he just stapled his finger under his chin, like he had seen Sherlock do just this morning on the sofa, his elbows resting on his knees, staring intensely at Jennifer Wilson, who still hadn't looked up from her hands.

John studied the woman more closely now. She was of an ordinary beauty. Golden waves cascading around her face, her lips full and rosy. She was dressed in an alarming shade of pink from head to toe. She hadn't kept from fidgeting with her hands, her eyes down cast, keeping to the floor and her lap, never meeting Sherlock's gaze.

The room was silent, but out off the blue Sherlock suddenly snapped, "Shut up!" without anyone having uttered a word.

John and Greg looked at each other before looking back at Sherlock both of them whispering a "What?" under their breaths.

Sherlock then turned around on his chair in a smooth, graceful motion staring them both down. "You were thinking. It's annoying." Sherlock answered their question and both looked more than bewilder, but as John glanced over at Lestrade he saw a frown appear on the man's face. So this was probably another one of Sherlock's habits.

"You opinion, John", Sherlock said not even looking at him. John was a bit startled by his request how in the name of God was he supposed to make any guess about who would suit her. He had no information about her whatsoever. What was he supposed to do? Was Sherlock doing this to embarrass him?

"Uhm, Sherlock, I don't have one. How could I? I know nothing about her." Sherlock then turned around on his chair once again, his arm resting on the back of the chair, his legs crossed elegantly.

"Enlighten us", Greg said, his face set in a hard mask as he addressed Sherlock.

"Well, look at her hands. She is kneading her left hand because she slapped me, but that's not the only reason. She also has a mark on her ring finger when you look closely. So she is married, but isn't wearing her wedding ring. In fact she placed it over there", Sherlock pointed towards the desk, "where none of her lovers would ever go. All her jewellery is polished except for her wedding ring. Still it does shine from the inside which indicates that she frequently removes the ring from her finger for said lovers. She is a serial adulterer currently getting a divorce. Anderson probably paired her with all the wrong men. She fucked them and that's the end of the story. If you want to keep her interested in a man you should not pair her with the sissy's Anderson got her." Sherlock now looked at John again, his grey-blue eyes fixed upon him.

"Now John, tell me what you think." A smirk appeared on Sherlock's face as John didn't say a word at first. He just kept looking at Jennifer Wilson, who was now beat red and tried to figure out what to say. Everything he would say would probably sound dumb in comparison to what Sherlock had just revealed about her.

"Uhmm, well. Maybe he needs to be interesting as you said." John looked at Sherlock in the hope he would stop this stupid game of his, but Sherlock kept just looking back at him a faint smile playing around his lips. John sighed and shook his head, but continued nonetheless. "Maybe someone who is not as experienced or is vastly different from herself. Anyway, I think both of them need to be part of a whole, just like I said before, they need to complete each other. I wouldn't do any good if you put to serial adulterers into a relationship. It wouldn't end well for neither of them."

"Nice observation, but I was hoping you would go a bit deeper, John.", Sherlock said, looking expectant over at John. The army doctor grew steadily angry as Sherlock pushed him farther and farther. "I can't, Sherlock. How am I supposed to do what you do? I can't observe like you do. What you do is amazing why do you think I would try and not fail miserably!" He raised his hands in defeat and looked Sherlock, his blue eyes meeting Sherlock's blue-grey ones.

Without further warning Sherlock got up from his chair, his hands clasped behind his back as he walked over to where John and Greg were standing. "Shall I enlighten you? Again.", he asked, a smirk stretching over his face and Greg nodded.

Sherlock swirled around gracefully once again looking at Jennifer Wilson. "She came here for which reason. Well, of course not because of your good reputation, Greg, no, she came her because of her Job. Her small suitcase is not unpacked and a map of London is lying on her bedside table, circled on it are not the typical sights, but the different location's for her story which is lying next to the map. So she works's for the media, which also explains the alarming shade of pink she wears. The reason for her divorce is her abusive husband. She has a bruise just beneath the collar of her shirt which is a blue-purplish colour. This indicates he used violence against her just before she was leaving, three days ago by the colouring. The reason for his use of violence is that he never like her line of work. She only recently thought about divorcing him as she was gravely afraid of him and what he would do to her, would he find out what she was doing. The only outlet she found was going around having sex with pretty much everyone who was willing. Therefore, we are looking for someone understanding. He needs to accept her the way she is and is not pursuing to change her. Still, he needs to be strong willed as well as well built. She needs someone with whom she feels safe and protected. There are some other quirks which need to be taken into account, but I think this should be enough to start looking for someone at Harmony." Sherlock turned around during his last sentence and looked at John once again. There was that smile again, playing around the corner of his mouth.

John couldn't help but stare back. Sherlock was utterly amazing and no one could tell him otherwise. All his childish behaviour and lack of social skills could be overlooked for this. For this utterly brilliant man, looking at him.