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Also any feed back would be great! Thanks!

John was exhausted. He and Sherlock had been in Wales for the past week on a case. Sherlock had not let him sleep, eat or even properly use a bathroom in that entire expanse of time, so the sight of 221 Baker Street had never made him happier.

The taxi stopped and John leaped out as fast as his tired body would let him. Sherlock paid the cabbie as John opened the door already fantasizing about climbing those steps to flat B going directly to his room and falling asleep. His plans hit a small snag though as he turned the knob and tried to open the door, tried being the operative word. The door opened a small crack, and stuck. John pushed against the door but it hardly budged.

"Having trouble John?" Sherlock asked.

"It's stuck." John said pushing again.

"Here let me help." Sherlock said, moving to position himself next to John to help push. He was just as tired as John was, having gone past even his limits where sleep and food were concerned, and he too desperately wanted into their flat.

"1…2…3"

Both men pushed as hard as they could against the door and finally it moved. As they stumbled into the building they found exactly why the door had not moved. Covering nearly every inch of floor space of the entry way were boxes.

"What the hell?" John said. He and Sherlock stood in the doorway looking around in confusion.

"Oh boys, you're back!" It was Mrs. Hudson, coming from her own flat, a tray filled with tea for two balanced in her hands. "How was Wales?"

"Cold and wet." Sherlock answered still looking at the boxes, analyzing them.

"Oh dear." Mrs. Hudson said.

There was the sudden sound of footsteps from the uninhabited flat C that brought everyone's attention. The door was open. Sherlock wondered how he had missed that.

"Ah, Mrs. Hudson, you shouldn't have." The voice reached them before the owner came into view.

"Oh it was nothing; you two have been working so hard." Mrs. Hudson said handing off the tray in her hands, as the person she was talking to finally came into view. He was a tall man with light brown hair and hazel eyes. He was very muscular, and smiled so charmingly at Mrs. Hudson that it took John clearing his throat to gather her attention again. "Oh yes!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. "Charlie this is Dr. John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, they rent the flat just upstairs. Boys this is Charlie Drudge."

Charlie looked up and noticed the two men standing in the doorway surrounded by boxes. "Oh hi, sorry about the mess." He said putting the tray Mrs. Hudson had just given him down on a box near him then maneuvering himself so that he could reach and move some of the boxes near the stairs so that John and Sherlock could get up to their own home.

"Charlie's just rented the flat downstairs with his girlfriend." Mrs. Hudson continued. "They're coming round for supper tonight, will you be joining us?"

Charlie moved the last box in their way and John thanked him.

"Not tonight I don't think, Mrs. Hudson, we're both a bit worse for wear after our trip, perhaps another night." Sherlock answered her, before both he and John went up stairs to pass out.

"They seem nice." Charlie said to Mrs. Hudson as he made his way back to his door.

"Oh they are, well John is." Mrs. Hudson said with a smile before going back into her flat to start on dinner.

Charlie shook his head and picked up the tea Mrs. Hudson had given him and carefully made his way down the stairs. The flat was just as littered with boxes as the upstairs was.

"April?' He called out.

"I'm in the bedroom." Came an answering call.

"Mrs. Hudson made us tea." Charlie said placing the tray down on a small table in the corner of the room.

"That was nice of her." April said exiting the bedroom and walking over to Charlie. April was a good half a foot shorter than Charlie, and clearly kept in shape. She had long brown hair that was currently thrown up to stay out of her face as she worked.

"Yeah. Also I met our neighbors." Charlie said.

"Yeah? How are they? "April asked as she picked up one of the cups.

"Not sure yet didn't get to talk to them much. Two men in their thirties, one's a doctor, not sure what the other does." Charlie said and took a quick gulp out of the other cup.

"And their names?" April asked

"John Watson's the doctor, the other is Sherlock Holmes." Charlie told her.

"Sherlock Holmes?" She asked. Charlie nodded. "Any relation to Mycroft?"

Charlie looked up, he hadn't thought of that possibility. "Don't know. I'll do a search later and find out."

"You could just ask him." April said.

"No I couldn't." Charlie said.

"Why not?" April asked.

"Why would Mycroft Holmes associate with a personal trainer?" Charlie asked.

"Personal trainer? I thought you were with the police?"

"I haven't been on the force since Ireland." Charlie sighed, "Go re-read your file. I'm going to get a few more boxes."

April let out a frustrated groan, "You know if we could stop moving so often I'd be able to keep things straight."

"I'd be happy to stay put, all you need to do is keep your cover." Charlie told her before heading back up the stairs.

April put her cup of tea down and walked into the bedroom. She pushed the bed over and pulled up the corner of the carpet there revealing a small safe. April pulled a file out of the safe and leaned against the bed to read it, as she listened to Charlie go up and down the stairs. She would remember this time. She would be well this time. She wouldn't have to move again. These were the promises she made to herself. She only hoped she could keep them.