(221b, Alice’s POV: )

 Sherlock – wearing heavy protective gloves and safety glasses and carrying a blowtorch in one hand and a glass container of green liquid in the other – had come to the living room table to look at John’s latest blog entry which was entitled “Sherlock Holmes baffled”.

 “Sherlock! We’re not done! Get your arse in here!” I shouted to him from the kitchen.

 “No, no, no, don’t mention the unsolved ones.” Sherlock complained indignantly.

 “People want to know you’re human.” John explained.

 “He’s not gonna be if he doesn’t get back in here! You hear, Sherlock?! A corpse!” I shouted again.

 “Why?” Sherlock asked, ignoring me.

 “’Cos they’re interested.” John shrugged.

 “No they’re not. Why are they?”  Sherlock demanded. John smiled at his laptop.

 “Look at that.” He ordered happily. I poked my head out from the kitchen. He was looking at the hit counter on the front page of his blog. “One thousand, eight hundred and ninety-five.” He said proudly.

 “Sorry, what?” Sherlock asked, obviously nicked.

 “I re-set that counter last night. This blog has had nearly two thousand hits in the last eight hours. This is your living, Sherlock – not two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash.” John explained.

 “Two hundred and forty-three.” Sherlock said sulkily. Firing up the blowtorch, he put his safety glasses back on and headed back towards the kitchen.

THEATRE

 Sherlock and John were walking across the stage of a theatre while police officers milled around nearby.  They met me behind the curtain on the other side.

 “So, what’s this one? ‘Belly Button Murders’?” Sherlock asked mockingly.

 “’The Navel Treatment’?” John shrugged.

 “Eurgh!” Sherlock exclaimed.

 “Yuck...” I mumbled. We walked backstage and met up with Lestrade as we headed for the exit.

 “There’s a lot of press outside, guys.” Lestrade warned.

 “Well, they won’t be interested in us.” Sherlock said indifferently.

 “Yeah, that was before you were an internet phenomenon. A couple of them specifically wanted photographs of you three.” He corrected.

 “For g*d’s sake!” Sherlock cried, exasperated and glaring at John. John quirked a smile as we walked on, then Sherlock spotted some costumes on a rack just inside a nearby dressing room. He walked in and grabbed a few items off the rack.

 “John. Alice.” He tossed a cap at John and put mine on for me, which was very unessasary. It was a bowler hat, which wouldn’t work very well but I didn’t care either way. “Cover your face and walk fast.” Sherlock ordered.

 “Still, it’s good for the public image, a big case like this.” Lestrade suggested.

 “He’s a private detective. The last thing he needs is a public image.” I told him. Sherlock put on the other hat that he had picked up – a deerstalker – and headed out the exit door pulling the hat as low as possible over his eyes and tugging the collar of his coat up. I pulled my collar up and tightened my coat around me, looking down at the ground. Outside, photographers started taking pictures of us relentlessly.

Back at 221b later, some of the pictured had been used in various newspapers, together with headlines such as, ‘Hat-man, Ginger and Robin: The web detectives’, ‘Sherlock Net ‘Tec’, ‘Sherlock, White & John: Blogger Detectives’ and ‘Sherlock Holmes: net phenomenon’  where the text of the newspaper articles had been transcribed.

Another chapter! =3 Thank you! Vote, comment, and enjoy fun peoples!  =D