Mamihlapinatapai & Redamancy (Discontinued, may one day re-write but unsure :c)

Chapter 1 - The game is on

It had been a calm morning, and Sherlock Holmes sat lounging in his armchair beside the crackling fire, sipping at his tea precariously as John Watson made his way down the first flight of stairs and into their bathroom. The short man sighed and closed the door only moments after he had opened it, eyes closed in frustration.

"Holmes. Why is there a pile of ducks in our bathtub? Dead ones, no doubt." Watson questioned with a dangerous calm, allowing Holmes to deduce that even one wrong word would unquestionably serve to set off John's boiling anger.

"It's for an experiment," Holmes said slowly and casually as he attempted not to give too much detail, his words being met with an exasperated sigh and a nod. "Alright. But they better be out of there in an hour, if not, you can go do the shopping today while I tidy up." John Watson said, rolling his eyes at the aggravated groan that came from his best mate.

"Why? It's not like anyone else lives here with us in this flat. You are no doubt accustomed to my experiments by now, my dear Watson?" Sherlock said with a questioning tone, moving to sit in a crouched position in his chair. John huffed, running his hands down his face."That is the problem. I am a little too accustomed to it at this point... tea?" Watson questioned, moving to the kitchen.

"I have already got a cuppa," Holmes responded with a small hum. He watched over the rim of his cup as Watson nodded and shuffled to the kitchen to pour himself his share of the savoury liquid they drank so much of.

It wasn't until John Watson had settled in his seat did they hear a knock on the door. "Boys! Greg is here with a new case!" Mrs. Hudson called through the closed door.Sherlock glanced at John with great confusion, frowning as John mouthed 'Lestrade' before calling out. "Alright! Send him in, Mrs. Hudson."

Lestrade entered the room, casting his gaze upon the two men still dressed in their robes as they sipped at their tea.

"I believe this case may be a level nine." He said, earning their attention."How so?" Holmes inquired, setting down his tea on the small circular table in front of him.Greg handed him the case file, the taller man giving him his signature look of intrigue before turning his eyes to the file in his hands.

With lithe fingers did the detective open the file, his eyes scanning over the page. "It's a cipher." He muttered, raising a brow. "What is so special about it?" He questioned, looking back up at Lestrade.

"There's more than one Letter encrypted with this cipher, we believe it's of the columnar transposition cipher, however, we do not know the key," Lestrade explained."Yes, yes, very good, but what is it to me?" Holmes asked, tossing the folder into the waiting hands of Doctor Watson, who immediately opened it and skimmed his eyes over the strange typed letter.

"The letters are only ever found in the houses of victims of murder." Lestrade sighed, frowning as the consultant detective grinned.

"How many?" Holmes questioned, smirking."Five. The only links we can find between the victims are the letters, which no one can find the key for, as well as all having a history of drug use. " He sighed to Holmes.

"I see. So, all the victims lead different lives?" Sherlock questioned."Yes, very different. One was a lawyer, the other lived in the slums, another was a librarian..." Lestrade trailed off, shaking his head. "There wasn't even any kind of physical aspect to string them together, just... the letters," Lestrade said with a shake of his head.

Holmes and Watson shared a look before Sherlock turned back to Greg. "We'll take the case. Is it time-sensitive?" John inquired, earning a nod.

"Yes. There's a new murder every second Friday, the last murder being yesterday. I'll send Donovan to you with the rest of the case files." Lestrade said, nodding to the two of them as he turned and left the flat.

As soon as Lestrade had left the flat, Holmes jumped up with a laugh, a boyish grin upon his lips, eyes bright as he looked down at his dear friend, who was watching him with a fond look. "Brilliant! We finally have a case, John!" Sherlock cheered as if he had not been shooting walls and hunting ducks with his bare hands just hours ago.

"Yes, yes, I know. But before you start the case, make a choice." John reminded with a sigh. "Choice? A choice about what?" Sherlock questioned, frowning. Watson rolled his eyes, an irritated grunt leaving his lips.

"There are still ducks in the bathtub, Holmes. Either remove them or go and get the shopping done." John said, once again beginning to become aggravated.