"You mentioned that before," John said mildly, texting Elena back. "Well, things will get sorted out soon enough."

"They had better," Sherlock said. "I refuse to work with these idiots any longer." He 'humph'ed and settled deeper into his chair.

John snorted and let him sulk until the next day. He figured by then Sherlock would be over his pouting and ready to get at the case again.

Indeed, Sherlock's mood had improved by the next day, and he was almost behaving like a human being again rather than a spoiled poodle. He pulled out his phone as John hailed a taxi for them.

Any word? he asked Elena.

Yeah, boss is back in this state. I can get you in to talk to him if you want. Elena still wasn't pleased with him, but oh well.

Perhaps. Because Sherlock did things on his own time. But he would make his way over there at some point to see what was going on.

Your loss. Elena put her phone away and went back to getting the office sorted out so things could get back to some semblance of normalcy once the murder investigation was over with.

Sherlock did indeed end up appearing, after stopping for an overpriced cup of coffee. He made his way past the police line and over to Elena's desk.

"So explain to me what's going on," he said.

"Police are talking to my boss now," Elena said without looking up from her computer. "He's a person of interest but not a suspect yet. They haven't found out about the weekend rendezvous appointments the two had. I'm sure you'd be happy to point them in the right direction."

"I want to see what they've gotten, at any rate," Sherlock said. He gestured with a hand. "Where are they?"

"Boss's office." Elena pointed behind her before she went back to typing up documents.

"Thank you," Sherlock said. With that, he went towards the door Elena had pointed out.

Once he opened the door, though, Elena's boss groaned and put his head in his hands. "Damn," he said. "I can't believe this is happening. Shit. Okay, yes, fine, I did it. I admit it."

Well, Sherlock had certainly never had that happen before. He raised an eyebrow at the police officer in the room.

The officer shrugged but listened as the boss started to ramble on about shares and marketing and business and his co-worker, finally admitting he had arranged for the man's death.

Sherlock hung back near the door with his phone.

I got cheated. The man took one look at me and confessed.

John sighed as his phone went off yet again while he was trying to chat with Abby.

Sherlock, just once, can't you let me have one date without interrupting me?

Do you even care about what I just said? Because no, Sherlock had no qualms about texting John whenever he felt like.

I read it. I'm sorry you were deprived your chance to explain everything to us lesser beings but I'm on a date. Go talk to Elena or something.

John sighed. "Sorry," he told Abby. "Sherlock."

Sherlock pouted at his phone for a moment and then headed out. Elena was busy, anyways, so there was no point in going to talk to her.

"It's fine," Abby said. She wasn't getting annoyed quite yet. "Is everything alright?"

"He hasn't had his daily dose of awe and setting us lower beings straight." John rolled his eyes. "Apparently the murderer confessed when he walked into the room."

Abby snickered.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised," she said. "Nobody really wants to be subjected to Sherlock Holmes when they've done something wrong."

"I know I wouldn't be." John grinned. "So he's feeling mopey about that, but he'll live."

"He really kind of acts like a perpetual twelve-year-old, doesn't he?" Abby mused.

"Yes. Yes he does. A twelve-year-old with a superiority complex, an extremely high IQ, and no concept of social etiquette." John sighed.