John Watson sat in his plush armchair beside the cold fireplace. Sipping from a cup of tea, he turned the page of the newspaper that he was reading.

The flat he shared with Sherlock was a fair size, but it was cluttered with various knick knacks they had collected over the years of solving cases.

Or from Sherlock's scientific endeavors.

John shuddered when he remembered the frozen human head Sherlock had kept in the fridge for a week to see how a decapitated head would behave under extreme temperatures.

"Any good cases come in last night?" He asked as Sherlock came in and sat down at the computer, going through his email full of people desperate for the pair's skills.

"No, no, no, boring," Sherlock whispered under his breath as he deleted email after email. "Boring, boring, boring, definitely not," he said with an annoyed click of the mouse, "Nope!" He said closing the computer with a snap.

"I'm sure something will come up." John said absentmindedly as he continued to read the paper, "After all, it's not like we just finished a case...oh wait."

"Your sarcasm is noted," Sherlock responded as he snatched the newspaper from John's hands.

"I was reading that."

"Yes, but..." Sherlock said, scanning the black and white letters for anything resembling a decent case. "Nothing," he grumbled, throwing the paper back into John's hands. "How come none of you are serial killers" he shouted, shaking his fists at the London street out the window.

John folded the paper back up, "You really need to cal-"

"Sshhhh." Sherlock froze as he hissed the instructions at John. It was a look John had become all too accustomed to. He was listening.

"What is it?" Watson whispered.

His partner clasped his hands together excitedly, "Lestrade. Must be something good."

Not two seconds later, a knock came at their door. Sherlock rushed over and opened the door.

Watson wouldn't admit it, but he was excited too. It had been a while since the detective had come to them for help, which was unusual given how incompetent the force was.

"Hello," Lestrade said as Sherlock opened the door.

"Busy, goodbye," Sherlock responded as the door closed with a clack.

"What the hell?" Watson whispered.

"He's become to self absorbed, we needed to out him in his place."

"Someone should out you in your place." Watson said before Sherlock opened up the door once more.

"Not busy anymore," he told the silver haired man.

Lestrade shook his head at Sherlock's antics, completely unaware of the conversation that just took place.

"So what can we do for you," Watson asked as he grabbed a chair for the detective.

"Got a new skull, I see." He said, indicating the two skeleton heads sitting in the mantle. "Um, but I have a case for you two."

"And," Sherlock prodded, taking his seat across from Watson.

"And," Lestrade continued, looking slightly uncomfortable, "It's a murder."

"And?"

"And, the murder left a note."

"Aaand?"

Lestrade sighed, "And it's a serial killer."

"Fantastic!" Sherlock said, jumping up and grabbing his coat. "Where is the body?"

"That's the problem. It's gone. Only the head was left."

"You hear that John? Only the head!" He said with a grin before heading out the door and down the stairs, leaving Watson and Lestrade to follow.