Dr. John Watson was not having a good day.

He was sitting on the sofa, attempting to type on his blog. As he painstakingly typed a few words, he swore at the people who'd invented technology and keyboards, and wondered offhandedly why in the world he was even bothering to write this blog anyway.

"John."

John ignored the call, and steadfastedly continued typing. He now began cursing the producers of technology and keyboards and such damned contraptions such as computers and- God help him- laptops.

"John. Jooooohn."

Once again ignoring the voice, John's curses escalated to pure damnation as he struggled to find the '&' on his keyboard.

"Jooooooooooooooooooooohn."

"What, Sherlock." John snapped his head around at the man who was perched, rather owl-like, on his chair.

"I'm bored."

"You're bored, Sherlock."

"Yes. I'm bored, John."

John turned back to the computer screen. "Then I suggest you find something to do," he said as he resumed typing, hoping to finish his blog some time before dinner.

"John."

"...Sherlock," John said, searching around. He knew he'd put it somewh- ah, there it was. He reached over to the newspaper and chucked it at Sherlock's head. "Read the newspaper, then, if you're so bored. Memorize every single goddamned page of it."

"Impractical, John."

"Sherlock. Just read the goddammed paper. Maybe you'll find an interesting case while you're reading, okay?"

Looking rather much like a sulking kid, Sherlock reluctantly opened the paper and began to read the section about crime and politics. John wasn't even able to get halfway through his next paragraph before-

"John."

"What now, Sherlock?"

"This man. Do you recognize this man?" Sherlock said, folding the paper in two and handing John a black-and-white image of a car crash and a small, close-up image of a person.

"Hmm..." John thought about it, looking the man's face over. There was something familiar... something that he'd seen often... but what was it? Hmm... John stared intently at the picture for a few seconds. Ah-ha! It wasn't like there were very many people in London with those monstrous eyebrows, he remembered seeing them by Speedy's, every morning...! "It's the man who always takes his breakfast at Speedy's and then walks downtown, isn't it?" he said, looking up at Sherlock.

Sherlock nodded. "Yes... apparently he's dead."

"Oh," said John. "That's a shame."

"But John! Don't you see?" John gave Sherlock an expasperated look.

"No, Sherlock, so if you'd get right into the explaination for whatever it is that I haven't seen, I would very much appreciate that."

"Oh John! John, John, John! Don't you understand? Now here's something interesting, I tell you! This man's dead!"

"Yes, so...?"

"Dead men don't eat in cafés, John! He was just there this morning! This paper's from yesterday, meaning that the accident here," said Sherlock, talking fast and beginning to pace, while tapping the image of the car crash, "happened at least two days ago. But just this morning, while I was out buying milk-"

"You bought milk?"

"Yes, John, I do do that sometimes now if you would please shut up I need to finish talking, as I was saying, just this morning, I saw him sitting in the window of Speedy's! And here, look at the title of this article-" Sherlock unfolded the paper and held it up, so that John could clearly read that it said HIGH GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL DEAD, NO BODY OR TRACES OF DRIVER FOUND, "this means that this man had to have worked for Mycroft, there's no way for him to have been a 'high government official' other than to work for Mycroft, and yet!"

"And yet?" asked John, still rather confused as to where this all was going.

"And yet... a high government official, a man whom Mycroft 'trusted', as far as his 'trust' can go, dies, and the driver is unknown, but Mycroft doesn't call me to investigate?" Sherlock perched himself, once again, on his chair.

"Sherlock, why would Mycroft call you for something like that? He's got the whole of Scotland Yard at his disposal-"

"Yes, but look at the picture!" Sherlock was angrily tapping the car crash image again. "Look at the briefcase! Empty! Those are high-end documents, Mycroft can't let them just go unnoticed. And here!" he said, turning the page and showing it to John. GOVERNMENT LEAKS? was the title. "Mycroft can't just let something like that slide, anything against the government is by extension against himself. Scotland Yard can't track vanished papers down, they've already admitted to 'not having a trace' of the driver. Important documents are missing- look at the quality of the locks on that briefcase, this isn't meant to be used for your typical 'I love you Daddy' pictures, this is something more- and this man is dead, yet somehow he still manages to eat breakfast like normal? This can only mean... John, give me your phone."

"Sherlock, your phone is in your pocket," said John, trying to let the given information sink in.

"Too far away John your phone," Sherlock said. Annoyed, John dropped his phone into the outstretched hand. Sherlock started to type something, then appeared to change his mind. John thought he heard something along the lines of, '...likes to text, so I might as well call...', but he couldn't be sure.

Sherlock lifted the phone to his ear, a small grin on his face as the line picked up after the second ring.

"Hello, brother dear. So tell me, what ever is going on with our dear Arthur Kirkland?"

(((((******)))))

Author's Note: PHEWWWWWWWW. This was inspired by a prompt on Tumblr... I lost the link, sorry... ^^; Anyway, please review and tell me what you think! :)