I'm so sorry for the (extremely) late update and the short chapter! QAQ I was on a writer's block and I really really wanna make a good case so yeah, here's what I have concocted during the last one and a half? week. Without further ado, hope you guys enjoy! 

-Author

If the game meant playing house with Kirsty, then John would rather be sitting in Mr. Brook's classroom listening to his demonic chanting of mathematical concepts and formulas.

Sherlock was already hopping about, looking more like the missing rabbit than anything else. Apparently, James was going to be late so it was John's role to behave and gain Ms. Stapleton's trust in them as Kirsty's temporary babysitter.

Ms. Stapleton was a stern woman who had an air of authority about her. John soon learned from making polite conversation that she was the head of the local Biologist society. Ms. Stapleton seemed quite fond of him even with the detached atmosphere which she emitted all the time.

Finally, the doorbell rang and with a farewell, Ms. Stapleton left after leaving a kiss on Kirsty's cheek and a reminder for her to behave.

"Sherlock? Where are you?" John immediately stood up with Kirsty tagging along with him leaving the princesses and James Bonds strewn in a heap on the floor.

"In here, John." Sherlock stuck his head out of Kirsty's room which was at the end of the corridor facing the living room.

"So, any discovery?" John came into Kirsty's room which was simple yet quite aesthetically pleasing. A bed, a tiny bookshelf, a desk, a chair and an aquarium that probably was once Bluebell's home were all the major furniture in her small room. There was a Christmas cactus on the desk and a painting beside her bed as decoration. Classic literatures and story books dotted her bookshelf in random intervals while a penguin plushie stood guard on her bed.

"Quite some discoveries. Kirsty, tell your mother to break up with this James. He's the culprit of this kidnapping." Sherlock sighed looking disappointed at the lack of challenge this case provided. He was about to walk out of the room before he felt a hand pull him back.

"Wait, Sherlock, you can't just walk out of here like that after telling someone that their mother's boyfriend kidnapped their pet. We need some explanation." John said smiling out of disbelief. "Not everyone's brain was stolen from the laboratory where they kept Einstein's brain."

Sherlock exhaled exasperated before starting with his explanation. "There were no marks on the window. This window is generally closed especially now because it's winter so naturally, dust gathers. There were no disturbances of dust on the window so what's the only other way in? Through the door. And why would anyone in their right mind go through the trouble of dismantling someone's security system just to get to a rabbit? So, the culprit must be someone who lives in this flat. If Ms. Stapleton wanted to take Bluebell, there are easier ways to get her daughter to just hand over the rabbit. She's an intelligent woman, she has the skill at get an eight-year-old to hand over her pet. But if James asked for Bluebell, it would look quite suspicious no matter what excuse he gave and by the looks of this, it seems that our rabbit thief doesn't plan on returning Bluebell either."

"But James couldn't have done it! He's always so nice and we always played together--" Kirsty wailed with her hazelnut eyes as large as ever looking at Sherlock.

"He must be a great actor then." Sherlock said nonchalantly. "If I wasn't on this case I'm sure he would've gotten away with it too."

"Mr. Holmes! He wasn't staying here when Bluebell was taken." Kirsty frowned putting her hands on her waist.

"Oh, it seems that he has an alibi." Sherlock grinned putting his hands together under his chin. "Does he have the keys to this flat?"

"No." Kirsty answered with what looked like a childish triumphant grin that flashed across her face.

"He doesn't have a motive either." John pointed out raising an eyebrow at Sherlock.

"Oh, now suddenly you've become the crime expert. Why don't you tell me who took Kirsty's rabbit then since you've become the "smart" one." Sherlock scowled crossing his arms.

"I sincerely hope that everything that comes out of your stupid mouth is a script written by an author putting in the subtext of "punch me in my perfectly sculpted face" in every miserable word you say because if not, prepared to have your cheekbones punched into your face." John growled back in a low voice staring daggers at Sherlock who stood there with a taunting look on his face.

"I'd like to see y— "

"Guys, please, you're not here to fight." Kirsty broke up the fight, no, war which was about to break out. "We still don't know where Bluebell is or who took her and it's already seven O' clock right now. You guys will have to leave by nine!"

"Sherlock, she's right. We should rule out James as a suspect." John said calming down. "And I'm sorry for saying that, I don't mean any of it."

Sherlock humphed before reaching out a hand.

"And this is...?" John looked at Sherlock's outstretched hand in confusion.

"Isn't this what you people do? Shake hands as a way of making accord?" Sherlock started dropping his hand noticing that John clearly had no idea what he was trying to do.

To his surprise, his hand was caught before it dropped back to his side and shaken heartily a few times by another smaller, more tanned hand.

"Yes, this is what we people do. But it's usually done more in TV shows and movies than in real life." John laughed a little at Sherlock's cluelessness.

"Well then, onto business." Sherlock took a deep breath dropping his hand and surveying the room once more.

Windows: unopened Cage: opened but commonly – nothing and be told from that. Deliberately erased evidence...

"Kirsty, was Bluebell making any noise when she was taken?" Sherlock asked snapping out of his thoughts.

"I... I don't know. I don't think so..." Kirsty squinted her eyes trying to remember.

"Interesting, thank you." Sherlock grinned. "May I take Bluebell's food bowl too please?" With that, he wandered out of the room with an entranced look on his face.

"What's he up to?" Kirsty whispered to John who just grabbed a book from the shelf.

"Sherlock's going to be thinking so we should just stay here and read instead of going out to play."

When Ms. Stapleton and James returned, Kirsty was already asleep on her bed with John and Sherlock sitting in the living room.

They were payed and thanked by Ms. Stapleton but before they left Sherlock turned around.

"Oh, one question, Ms. Stapleton, is your daughter a light sleeper?"

"No, she usually sleeps very well except for the occasional nightmares. Bluebell is quite an able-bodied rabbit and Kirsty is extremely imaginative and can be forgetful at times." She paused. "Goodnight, John, Sherlock."

And with that, she closed the door leaving Sherlock and John in the corridor of the building.

"She's lying."

John furrowed his brows at Sherlock. "What?"

"She's lying about Kirsty." Sherlock continued as his breath formed into clusters of cloudy vapour before disappearing into the freezing night.

"I don't understand, why would she do that?" John immediately responded before pausing. "You're not suggesting... No..."

"Yes." Sherlock went on. "Ms. Stapleton is in on it too."

"But that doesn't make sense, you said that if she wanted to take Bluebell there were other ways... Unless..."

"Unless she's not planning on returning Bluebell. You know, Kirsty is a very persistent little girl." Sherlock stopped in front of the bus stop. "Good night John, expect good news tomorrow."

Sherlock left dramatically with a swish of his black coat heading opposite of John's bus allowing the darkness to engulf him as the headlight of the bus passed him.

And you are quite the drama queen. John smiled to himself as he took a seat on the almost deserted bus and stared out the window.

The next morning John was, to his surprise woken by Harry shaking him feverishly.

"John, wake up! Wake up! You gotta see the news!"

"Harry! Get out of my room! What time is it even?" John sat up groggily escaping from his sister's concussion inducing shaking.

"None of that's important. John, you know Moran? That bully you talked about?"

"Yeah, what about him?"

"Apparently, he's committed suicide."