Welcome to 221B Baker St.

One Surprise After Another

"Thanks, mate," John told his taxi driver and handed the man his cab fare in exchange for his luggage. The doctor smiled as he looked up at the familiar flat, grateful to see that 221B Baker St. was still in one piece after spending two weeks away from it. Well, at least on the outside. If Louise had also somehow managed to keep Sherlock from shooting up the walls again or blowing anything up, then he was definitely going to nominate that girl for sainthood. He started to reach out to open the door, when it suddenly swung open, revealing the bright and cheerful girl in question.

"Welcome back, John~!" she sang cheerfully, springing forth to give him a friendly welcoming hug. "How was New Zealand? Did you have fun?"

Well, at least he knew someone had missed him.

"Oh, yeah. You know how it is over there..." John said, smiling broadly. It was good to be home. "Lots of sun, lots of sheep..."

"Lots of long walks with Sarah without any third wheels?" Louise asked, waggling her eyebrows while giving him a playful nudge in the ribs. She was feeling loads better now that she was back on her meds and seeing a proper therapist again. She was really glad that John hadn't had to see her like that. He had enough to worry about already. This holiday seemed to have done him some good, though. He looked well rested, and he finally had a bit of color in his face, thanks to that warm New Zealand sun.

John just grinned in response to her little quip.

"Oh, you," he said, nearly blushing, as he opened the door and they began carrying his bags inside and up to the flat. Every now and then, she could really catch him off guard with that frank directness of hers. "So, how were things on your end? Did Sherlock behave himself, or am I about to walk in on murder scene?" he asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

"No, it was fine, actually," Louise replied, smiling wryly. "We hit a couple of snags here and there, but we're both still alive and un-maimed, and the flat's still in one piece too, though it still smells like tobacco..."

"Tobacco?" John asked. Did Sherlock relapse while he was away?

"Yes. While you were gone, he decided to do some experiments, one of which involved an analysis of two hundred and something different types of tobacco ash. I had to leave before I choked on all of the smoke," she explained, still slightly chagrined over the fact that everything in the flat now reeked of nicotine, even though a whole week had passed since then.

"Sounds like it's been hard on you these past weeks," John said, smiling sympathetically.

"It wasn't all bad," she replied, shrugging. "He also taught me some basic judo moves in between cases. There was this really interesting one involving a melting laptop—"

"—Louise, what have you done to my..." Sherlock began to call out to her as the two of them entered the flat with John's luggage in tow, trailing off when he saw that their long absent friend and flatmate had returned. "Oh, John. Good. Just back from New Zealand?" Sherlock asked casually, before turning back to Louise. "What have you done to my sock index? I thought I asked you not to rearrange it when you were moving your things in with mine."

"I didn't. They were like that when I opened the drawer," Louise replied somewhat defensively, crossing her arms.

"Wait, sorry. Who's moving in with who?" John asked, thinking he clearly must have misheard. For the past month she had been living with them, Louise had been alternating between sleeping on Sherlock's bed when he wasn't using it and the couch, and she had been storing a few articles of clothing she had managed to accumulate here and there in a cardboard box that John let her keep in his closet, so people wouldn't trip over it.