Sherlock's POV
I yawned as I wandered into the kitchen wearing only a sheet. I walked over to the table, grabbing a mug and taking a sip of coffee.
(Y/N) and John were at the crime scene, but I chose not to leave my house.
"You realize this is a tiny bit humiliating?"
(Y/N) snickered, leaning over John's shoulder and speaking into the camera.
"It's okay. I'm fine." I replied casually, bringing the laptop over to my chair.
"I didn't mean for you." She replied sarcastically.
"Look... this is a six." I adjusted the screen so that they could see my face, (Y/N) snickered again, and I chose to ignore her. "There's no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a seven. We agreed. Now, go back. Show me the grass."
John took the computer from (Y/N), taking it down to the grass and adjusting the screen so it's tilted towards the grass.
"When did we agree that?" He asked.
"We agreed it yesterday. Stop!" I yelled, leaning in closer to the screen as the camera came to a halt. "Closer." Instead of following my instructions, he swung his laptop around to his face.
"I wasn't even home yesterday. I was in Dublin."
"Well it isn't my fault that you weren't listening." The doorbell rung a second time. "SHUT UP!" I yell at the door, and it's silent.
"D'you just carry on when we're away?" (Y/N) asks, leaning in to the camera, putting her head on John's shoulder again.
"I don't know. How often are you away? Now, show me the car that backfired." (Y/N) rolled her eyes as John moved the camera again. "It's there!" (Y/N) said, pointing towards the car as the camera was fixed on her.
"That's the one that made the sound, yeah?" I asked.
"Yeah. And if you're thinking gunshot, there wasn't one. He wasn't shot; he was killed by a single blow to the back of the head from a blunt instrument which then magically disappeared along with the killer. That's gotta be an eight at least." I leaned back into my chair and ran my finger over my top lip. John hands the computer over to Carter.
"Go to the stream." I nearly commanded, a little upset that I didn't get to see (Y/N) anymore, I ran my hand through my messy black hair.
"What's in the stream?"
"Go and see!" I demanded as I heard Ms. Hudson walking up the stairs.
"Sherlock! You weren't answering your doorbell." She says, with 2 men behind her. I look them up and down.
"His room's in the back. Get him some clothes."
"Who the hell are you?" I ask angrily, covering myself with the sheet a bit more.
"Sorry Mr. Holmes, you're coming with us."
"Sherlock? Sherlock what's goin-" John called out in alarm as I closed the computer screen.
The tall man's friend puts a pile of clothes in front of me, I shrug and raise my eyebrows.
"Please Mr. Holmes. Where you're going, you'll want to be dressed." I turn my head, and look at the man.
Based on his suit it's at least £700, he's unarmed (thankfully). An obvious office worker, right handed based on the way his hands were folded. Indoor worker. One small dog. No, two. No! Three small dogs. I chuckled to myself, smiling smugly and looking up at the man. "Oh, I know exactly where we're going."