A/N: For an anon on tumblr who requested 'five times Sherlock solved the case and the one time John beat him to it.' Was an absolute nightmare to write because of all the deductions, but I'm fairly pleased with how it turned out. I wanted to see if I could write a story using only dialogue - do tell me if you think I succeeded! The chapters will be pretty short, maybe around 400 words each, but I'll update two, three times a week so you won't be waiting long for the whole thing. Anyway, enjoy, and reviews make me smile. :)

"What's this?"

"Case file. From Lestrade, he wanted me to give it to you."

"Why? It says already solved. Unless he thinks there's something wrong, which there probably is, knowing Scotland Yard."

"I think it's his way of gloating, Sherlock. You've solved the past five cases he's got before he's even got samples back from forensics. He wants to prove he can solve something on his own."

"Well, he's wrong."

"Oh, for god's sake, Sherlock, can't you just-"

"No, he's actually wrong. They've got it down as suicide, and it wasn't. It was murder."

"Really? Or is this just you sulking because the police managed to do something right for a change?"

"Really. The man had no history of mental instability or depression, no visits to a psychiatrist. In terms of mental health, he's almost perfect."

"Sherlock, the man had just been fired from his job and accused of fraud! That can make people a little unstable."

"And fraud can make enemies – specifically, the people he defrauded, a pair of wealthy clients. Noveau riche. Not particularly known for their morals or forgiveness, generally regarded as ruthless business partners."

"That's not a basis to say he was murdered! There was an eyewitness that saw him buying the gun that killed him – and the wound's on the right side of the head for the hand he used. Lestrade says here he specifically checked, see?"

"Yes, he bought the gun – but as self defence. The footprint in the lounge is a size too big for his shoes, and look at the rest of that flat, spotless. He'd never have worn muddied shoes on the carpet, and he'd never have killed himself in a way that would have made a mess. He was neat, obsessively so, a perfectionist, it showed in his work."

"Still not a basis for being murdered."

"But you admit it sounds suspicious."

"Yes, but- it's all very well you saying it, but the police can't start an investigation based on a footprint and a personality trait!"

"What about the faint bruising around his mouth?"

"What?"

"Coroner wrote it off as post-death swelling and bursting of the blood vessels, but it's in the shape of fingers, you can see that mark there, the heel of a palm pressing against his cheek. The killer used chloroform. Probably followed him home, waited until he'd unlocked the door so forced entry wouldn't be needed, and then gave him a light enough dose that he'd be drowsy but nothing would show up on any toxicity scans. Then he took the gun the man had bought in an attempt to defend himself, and used it to kill him. Made it look like a suicide. Wouldn't have been too hard, as Lestrade has proven."

"...Okay. Okay, I admit, that's- you were right."

"I always am. Call Lestrade and tell him he was wrong, and to stop gloating. Or, rather, continue, because his attempts at superiority have potentially saved other people's lives."

"You call him, then, if you're so pleased with yourself."

"Shan't."

"Sha- what are you, five?"

"..."

" Oh, fine, for god's sake, I'll call him then."