The next morning, John woke up early. He had a nightmare, and couldn't get back to sleep. He headed to the kitchen to make breakfast, and passed Sherlock, who was sleeping on the couch. John opened the egg carton and found more eye balls inside the carton. John sighed, and looked through the heart bin. He found the eggs laying at the bottom. He cleaned them off, and scrambled some. He brewed some coffee, and sat down to eat. He set aside a plate and cup for Sherlock, although he usually never eats it. But he had it out anyways. He walked over to Sherlock with the plate and fork in his hand, and nudged him awake with his foot.

"Wake up. I've got breakfast." John said. Sherlock sat up, his hair a mess, and looked around. He saw the plate in John's hand.

"You made that?" Sherlock asked.

"Well it was certainly not Mrs. Hudson." John told him. Sherlock took the plate out of his hands, and started to eat. John shrugged his shoulders. 'Guess he was hungry after 72 hours of not eating.' John thought to himself. He went upstairs to get dressed, and came back down. He noticed that Sherlock ate the food he made, and drank the tea. Sherlock was already dressed, and ready to leave. They walked down the stairs, and placed their hats on.

"Where are you two off to?" They heard Mrs. Hudson call to them.

"To the Morgue. I assume dinner will be waiting for us when we get back." Sherlock said.

She huffed. "I am a landlord, not your mother." She said.

"Do not worry. He is just joking around. We'll be off, don't wait up." John told her as the two left the flat.

They hailed a cabby, and got to the morgue relatively quick. They went to the forensics lab, and found Molly hunched over a microscope.

"Hello there." Molly greeted them happily.

"Hello Molly. Have you gotten any DNA from Charles yet?" John asked. She shook her head.

"I'm dumbfounded. I've checked every orafice. The lipstick smudge has no DNA on it. None. Only traces of silicone. Every other orafice is clean. Whoever had sex with him knew how to keep him clean, because I can't find anything. There weren't any hickeys or anything." Molly said exasperated. Sherlock moved her over, and inspected the slid.

"Is it true that you had sexual relations with this man last year?" Sherlock asked. Molly sighed.

"I did. I met him at a bar, and we went back to his place. I didn't know he was married until his wife came home and kicked me out. Never saw the bloke again until yesterday when he rolled up in a body bag." Molly told him.

"Where were you yesterday?" John asked.

"In here examining an older woman. The family thought she was killed but she just passed from a lodged bacon bit in her throat." Molly told him.

"Well then I guess you aren't the killer. Do you have any idea who could've done it? Size? Body type? Anything?" Sherlock asked. Molly shook her head.

" Do you have any idea's floating around in your head at the moment?" John asked.

"A couple, but they aren't pertinent to the case. Let's go visit the wife at her home." Sherlock said. The two left as quickly as they arrived, and they went to the wife's home, which was a small flat, with light pink wallpaper around the rooms.

The woman let them in, and sat them down on a pink sofa couch, with pink throw pillows. She wore a pink dress, with pink lipstick.

"So what can I do for you?" She asked.

"Could we have a look around the home. To get an understanding of Charles. Certain patterns and the sort." John hurried. She nodded, and opened the doors for them.

John and Sherlock split through the rooms, and inspected everything. John was looking through Charles's drawers, and moving his clothing around. He started to go through the woman's drawers, and found the underwear drawer, he was about to close it and forget it, but he hit against the bottom, and heard something rattle. John moved the underwear around, and found a lock on the bottom. He took a bobby pin out of his pocket, and picked the lock. The bottom opened up to reveal a plastic cover item. It was certainly not a condom, but it looked like a roll on for a finger to keep a cut finger protected from water.

"Sherlock! Come in here!" John called. Sherlock walked in and closed the door. John motioned for him to look at the object.

"What do you think that is?" John asked. Sherlock put on some gloves, and picked it up.

"It's a mouth plastic covering for the tongue. It's used for female oral intercourse." Sherlock told him. He placed the plastic object in a ziplock bag, and pocketed it. John locked the secret compartment up, and moved the underwear back to it's original spot. They left the room, and went to the kitchen.

"We did find something. We'll think about it, and come back to you later." Sherlock told her as they left. They hailed a cabby once again, and rode to the Morgue.

Sherlock walked in, and got to work. He swabbed the plastic, placed it under a slid, and looked at it under a microscope.

"Silicone." Sherlock announced. "It's made of silicone. With a bit of latex." He took another swab, placed it in a tube, and added a special solution. He placed the tube in a centrifuge.

"We'll know who's DNA is outside the silicone come tomorrow. I bet the woman killed him seeing as though we found that in her house." Sherlock said.

"You know. I also noticed that the shade of lipstick she was wearing was the same as the residue left on Charles. It's quite possible that it was her." John added.

"Good job. You were staring at her lips?" Sherlock asked curiously, looking forward as they walked.

"Well of course. It's not everyday you see a woman wearing pigmented hot pink lipstick. It stood out from all the other pink in her home." John explained. Sherlock nodded, and the two headed out for lunch. Well John ate lunch. Sherlock just came with because he was bored.

They sat down at a sandwhich shop, and John ate silently. Sherlock was staring intensely at John.

"What are you doing?" John asked.

"I'm bored, so I'm deducting you even further today. Gives me something to do. So far I've deduced every ingredient on your sandwhich, where you got you jacket dry cleaned, and also noticed that you haven't had a good night's sleep. I can tell from the slightly dark shade under your eyes." Sherlock said. "Also you have a lot on your mind because your eyes dilate 10% more when you have something on your mind." Sherlock added.

"Actually, my mind is pretty clear. I'm almost positive it was the woman, and there's nothing more to worry about at the moment." John told him.

"Hmm." Sherlock said. He looked into his eyes. John looked into his eyes. Sherlock smiled.

"You're lying." He smirked. John smiled.

"You are clever. I have been thinking about some other things recently." John admitted.

"Is it about one of your dates gone wrong? Or have you succeeded in keeping a woman of a second date?" Sherlock asked. John laughed a little.

"Nope. Haven't seen anyone. I've given up for right now. With all the cases, I don't have time to have a night out anymore." John admitted defeat.

Sherlock kind of looked down a little. What was this feeling? Remorse? Regret? Quilt? Almost. John noticed how quiet Sherlock was.

"What are you thinking of?" John asked.

Sherlock looked up. "Oh it's nothing." Sherlock excused. John finished his sand which, and the two headed back to the flat to take in some appointments. Most of which were solved at the appointment, and others were too boring to be bothered with. Sherlock and John sat in their normal chairs, reading the newspaper and thinking.

"Let's go out to dinner." Sherlock said randomly. John folded up the paper.

"What for?" He asked.

"No reason. Let's just go out for dinner. Somewhere nice where the food is cooked to the correct temperature." Sherlock said. He swiftly stood up, and started to walk down the stairs, John had so option but to follow him. It was 7 at night, and the sun was almost completely down. John hailed a taxi, and the two were driven to the nearest fancy restaurant. Sherlock and John were easily able to get a table, without a reservation, since he helped the cook out on a problem awhile back.

They sat down at a two seat table with a single rose in a miniature vase, and a miniature candle on each side. The waiter gave them menu's, and Sherlock ordered them both wine.

"You've been much more random lately. And that's saying something." John commented. Sherlock merely shrugged. The waiter came back with their drinks, and John took a sip.

"My favorite. Sixteen Ridges." John said. Sherlock took a sip.

"I've never been a fan of red wine." Sherlock sighed.

"You could get something else it you want." John commented.

"As long as you like the wine, then we're fine. I only ordered it because I knew you liked it." Sherlock dismissed. He looked at the menu, and found what he was looking for. The waiter came back, and took their order, then left.

Sherlock and John nonchalantly scanned the room, looking at the others sitting and eating. Sherlock noticed a woman who wore two rings, one for herself, and one from a deceased partner. Another woman had off brand makeup. John noticed one exceptionally wealthy looking woman, who was wearing plastic pearls. Seemed a pity she couldn't afford the real thing.

The two sat in relative silence until their food came. Sherlock got a small filet, while John got shrimp and pasta. Everything was in smaller portions, but it was perfect since Sherlock didn't like eating, and John had a larger lunch.

"I thought you didn't like red meats?" John said. " Doesn't it slow down your mental activity?"

"It does. But I don't want to think too much right now. The case is nearly solved, so why think any further." Sherlock said. The two ate, and drank their wine. They talked a bit after they finished eating.

"Have you ever been in any kind of relationship before? I know sociopaths aren't supposed to feel much emotions, but surely you must've liked someone growing up." John asked.

"Being in a relationship and liking someone is two different things. I've been in a relationship before, but it was for a case to become close to a suspect. And as of actually liking someone. I guess I did like one person as a child, but it was because she was able to throw a rock at a pigeon, and not feel remorse. It was more of a connective feeling. Other than that, I haven't really truly liked anyone. At least not that I know of." Sherlock answered. "I feel like we are at a child's sleepover. Sharing crushes." Sherlock joked. "On the note. I know you aren't going into any relationships, but I can tell you have someone on your mind. It's someone close to you, that you see on a daily basis. Whether that be Molly, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Donovan, or Anderson, I don't know. For all I know it could be the waitress at the sandwich shop next to the flat." Sherlock deduced. John cracked a smile.

"I guess you could say that, but you will never know who it is. Even if you guess right I will deny it." John said, with a bit of a daring voice. Sherlock took it as a challenge.

"I bet I can figure out who it is by the end of the week." Sherlock said.

"What are you willing to bet?" John smirked.

"All my needles, stashes of heroin, and packets of cocaine." Sherlock bet. They shook hands.

"Fine. If you can figure out who the person is by the end of the week, and get me to admit it when you are correct, then you can keep your stash. But if you can't, then I'll need you to show me every hiding spot you have so I can confiscate it. And I'm going to arrest your dealers. All 24 of them." John smirked. Sherlock may have a lot of ties to many people, but living with him a year has opened up everything. He remembered every dealer he's ever used, every drug he's done, and every homeless person be bribed. John wasn't going to let him off.

They paid for the meal, and got a cabby back home.

They both headed to their separate rooms for the night, and they slept.