I've always been a coward, And I don't know what's good for me

There was an article on the Beeb this week. It made me think.

There's this woman I know, Daisy. She's about sixty now. She likes her fashion, always dresses nicely, does her hair with clips. She's from the North, originally, around Liverpool, but she's lived in London since she was in her mid-twenties. When she was five or six she broke her leg, but got it all sorted. She's got kids, but I've never met them.

And there's Roger. He was in the Navy for years, before he came to London. He's nearly 80. He got tattoos, when he travelled the globe with the Navy. He was born in India, spent some of his childhood there, before moving to the UK. Then he was in the WestCountry - Bristol area - until he joined the Navy. Maybe that's why he joined, seeing the people working in the docks there. I don't know anything about his family.

Neither of them have ever met me. I don't know what either of them looked like. They're two of 'my' unidentified corpses.

Daisy had a hairclip with a daisy on it in her hair when we found her. Roger has a jolly roger tattoo. I don't know their real names, and I don't know where their families are. I don't know if someone is missing them, wondering about them.

I do know we'll never stop looking for their killers.


On a happier note, I've done my 2 day refresher, which was horrible as ever, but still, all done now, signed off for another year. It's so stressful doing it all when it's not real but in a way I think it would be easier when something was actually going on, because there are more people and more things going on.


And on a much much happier note, Mycroft has indeed been successful in his university application, but I've been forbidden on saying anything more. And he's also gone for this perfect summer job, which I really hope he'll get - his housemaster has written him a glowing recommendation.

And Sherlock has some VERY exciting news too - his school are taking part in a live talk to Major Tim on the space station! They have to think of some questions to ask him about Space, and then they get to talk to him on the radio.


I shall miss the team I've been working with on Child Protection - they're fantastic. You have to have the right sort of personality to work in that kind of environment. We had a lot of laughs, whilst doing a lot of very harrowing work. I'm glad I did it, but I'm also very glad to be back with the MITs.

And on a final note...humans think they're so great, don't they, with their thumbs and gadgets and jobs and motorbikes...yet Maf gets fed, watered, cuddled, stroked and still fits in a long sleep... I might cut my thumbs off...

I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take.

So, I think I've discovered that I like Wasabi. Which is obviously odd, given that I don't like hot curries. But there's something about wasabi that is hot without being burny... I can't explain it. But I think I might have become addicted to wasabi coated peas, courtesy of one of my sergeants, Amy. It's probably a slippery slope. This time next year I'll be living under a railway arch mainlining scotch bonnets.

The rest of this, until just above the picture, is about my current work in child protection, so please don't read it if it will be upsetting.

My team is small (but, they inform me, perfectly formed). Honestly, it's frequently a very odd office - well, room - to work in. We're a bit squashed in, and frequently 3 or 4 people will be sitting at their desk, headphones on, notebooks out watching what would commonly be called pornography, but is in fact abuse. Until you've spent a whole day trying to note down every distinguishing feature on an offender and their surroundings whilst doing your best to ignore the actual content of the video you can't really understand how horrible parts of this job are.

On the one hand, it's a nice feeling to think you've 'saved' victims - albeit too late, obviously, for the ones you know about, and the ones you've saved before it happens, well, neither of you will ever know that. Because I'm under no allusion that without being caught these people would ever stop offending.

on the other hand, sending a body to a morgue for PM and having forensics hopefully give you a plateful of evidence will forever be easier and more pleasant all 'round than trying to interview a terrified 4 year old for evidence.

So, it's a job that is unbearable hard, but also incredibly worthwhile, and I'm still coming to terms with that, whereas most of the team are old hands and better at this than I am. Overseeing kids being removed from their parents/guardians, making decisions about informing completely unsuspecting parents about what's happened to their kid, explaining to wives (so far it's only been wives, although obviously won't always be) why we are arresting their husbands, and watching them realise their marriage has been full of lies, it's all...wearing. And wearying.

Which is why one of the things I'll be bringing back to my team is our 10am tea-break, where everyone who's in the office is welcome to gather around, with a brew and discuss whatever they want - from casework, to something that's made them cry, to how bad their suspect smelled when arrested - whatever, it's a time to share experiences and ideas, and it works really well. Brings everyone together, keeps everyone up on what other cases we have in.


On a far brighter note, both Mrs Holmes and John's parents and Nicky have all invited us for Christmas...or part of it, given work.

And here's a picture of the rugby we went to see. I believe if you look closely you can see SH, winning the trophy ;)

NZ, doing the Haka at Namibia.

Aaaaand....there was a great clamouring for another Upstanding Column (well, okay, one of you asked). So...have at it. As always, all information given is completely unfactual and entirely possibly wrong ;) the topic is anything, from recipes to romance, pet care to plumbing.

Just because you don't believe that I wanna dance

So...I'm home. Early. And with more of the NHS's supplies attached to my head.

We went to arrest someone who was known to be violent (I mean, to be fair, we mainly arrest people who've tried to kill someone...so it's not like any of them are going to welcome us with baked goods and a cuppa.) Anyway, we went with lots of help. Four of us, four uniform officers, all for one man.

But he didn't disappoint. Went absolutely postal, shaking us off like rag dolls.

He tried to run into the back garden, but, amazingly, we'd thought of that...so I burst out of the back door to find four officers clinging to him like ants on an elephant... and joined in, naturally. And ended up making close friends with a very badly made greenhouse.

So, by the time the CS gas and tasers were flying, I was mainly out of it, really.

We ended with one arrest, one fractured wrist (uniform), one frankenstein's-monster-ish head (me), one black eye and fat nose (Sal), plenty of bruises and scrapes and lots of streaming eyes from the CS...

Anyway, paramedics and even more officers showed up, took us all off to our various destinations...John showed up, because Sal called him - we weren't that far from home, so he arrived while the paramedics were busy mummifying my head. Followed us to the hospital, then followed the panda which dropped me home. Staples in the scalp mean putting on a bike helmet isn't happening for a while.

And eventually, after a lot of staples in A&E I was sent off home with him to care for me. Got to pretend I was a doctor though, in a fetching set of scrubs, as my suit is a. ruined and b. forensic evidence.

Mrs H fetched Sherlock, who has announced that staples are 'better than stitches'. I'm not 100% sure on how the hierarchy of medical fastenings runs...probably...sticky tape, glue, stitches, staples? He hasn't seen mine, as they are currently under a ridiculous sticky dressing which I'm sure nurses only put on my head for a laugh. But John thoughtfully took pictures at the hospital, so he was somewhat mollified.

He also showed me this - which is rather cool.

Anyway, John's now having great fun looking after me....honest...perfect patient, me. I'm apparently playing a game of 'the floor is lava' that I didn't sign up to, because every time I try to get off the sofa he's there, stopping me. Although, thus far, he hasn't catheterised me...so I must stop writing this and go and wee out some of the 20 cups of tea he's made me drink so far ;) Later on I might even let him pick some scabs out of my hair..

And there’s a hand my trusty friend! And give me a hand o’ thine!

Right. I have napped. I am ready.

I think.

I'm 'running a pro-active team to respond to street-incidents' or something like that.

Basically means I get a van-full of officers, and we're plain clothes (apart from the big 'police' flashes across our stab vests), and we'll turn up at certain places and check all is well, or be sent to 'hotspots', or generally mop up the idiots who can't just enjoy themselves without hitting anyone or generally causing trouble. But I think, until it really kicks off, we'll just call in other units to take away most of our arrests, so some understaffed custody suite can take the strain.

My forecast for the night is...a bit wet, fairly miserable, with moments of excitement. Might even get near to wherever this tasty snow/foam/mist is going to be...

To be honest, I quite like getting back to the streets. I will have a sergeant on my team, too, so if I get called away to a murder scene, there's little disruption to us. This will doubtless happen just before refs, because that's life. Meanwhile, my team will operate on skeleton without me, Sal or any of my other sergeants.


Sherlock wanted me to show you this - he made it at his Mum's. He has now informed her he wants the Meccano delivered to him. I can't lie...I want it delivered to him too! And by the look on John's face, he does too.

It was hers, I think. Or possibly their father's, but I get the impression it was probably Mrs Holmes', doubt she let stereotypical boy/girl toys stand in her way as a kid!

Oblivious to all of us, The child that grows inside

If anyone's missing any tinsel, we've got it. Yeah, and the entire tinsel supply for every shop in the UK. And abroad.

John caught me having a sniff earlier. There's tinsel that smells, and tinsel that doesn't...obviously the stuff that does is best! (We have some of each.)

I have spent this afternoon teaching Sherlock to plait with tinsel. Nicky, all those hours plaiting your hair for school weren't wasted!

I think it has something to do with our wreath-to-be for our door. But who knows. Maybe we just need to be combining three into one or we'll never use it all.


I am removing John from these mean streets next weekend. Bit of a bike ride, some champagne, some relaxing, some...never you mind, and, eventually, sadly, I'll have to bring him back to finally ramp up to Christmas!

I'm always beset by worries that places won't be good enough. But with John, I'm...well, just the fact we're there together is what matters. Which still amazes me. I mean, that...anything can feel like that. Taken me a long time to realise that I've always judged myself very harshly because I wanted to get there first, before someone else did. Didn't...well, I didn't even know people like him existed, or I'd've tried to find one sooner ;)


Mycroft has asked if I'd like to escape the Christmas chaos at some point and go floating again. We've both been given half price floats, so...I probably will. They say it's more relaxing the second time, so, well, we'll see. I'd probably pay double to lock myself in a room alone by the end of Christmas, so half price is definitely a bargain!


Nights were...well, nights. First one was fairly boring. Following someone around. We learnt things about him. But...well, not as useful as it could have been. We'll see. It's given us things to think about.

Last night started with paperwork, ended with a dead body. (Not because of the paperwork.)


Received a text from Sal earlier. "See on the news your love-child hasn't fallen far from the tree." This is because they have this crazy idea in the office that Tom Daley looks like me, and is my love child (I must have missed the act that led to that). Anyway, he's far better looking than I am!


John bought me a lovely shirt today. Not for work, just casual. Makes me look almost presentable.

Walking in the sunshine town feeling very cool

Yesterday was okay. Somewhat strained. Nicky was a complete saint again, assuring Mum (and me) she'd help Mum around and keep an eye on her if she wanted to come to our wedding.

This morning there was an almighty thunderstorm - made the house shake! So I had a cuddly John on one side, and Sherlock decided to leap on us, so him on the other. Me valiantly trying to go to sleep...but no hope, with Sherlock outlining ever more insane plans for the day.

Today was...hot. And there were dead bodies and mortuaries and endless searches of areas in the blazing heat. It's not great for the state of bodies either - we're not used to decomposition in this sort of heat. Not something we usually deal with. Plus prepping appeals on old cases, all sorts.

One of the other DIs took a proper header down the stairs at the weekend, and looks like he's been on the losing side of a serious fight. He sent us a photo, so we knew he wasn't laying it on!

Err..other news. It's a boy! The press finally have something to talk about. I'm kind of sad that the news wasn't announced first on the easel, but via social media. Anyway, best of luck to them all.


Anyway...things... chatted to an old lady today, in the course of enquiries, and while we were chatting, she told me that sometimes the Chinese would attach these little whistles/flutes to pigeon's tail feathers, so when they flew they made soft whistly noises. You can find some examples on YouTube. Fascinating the things you find out about.

Other news...apparently it's against company policy for McDonald's to serve someone on a horse in
their drive-throughs.

Thanks for all your help with Sherlock's question the other day...I now feel like I know even less than before about vaginas.

In return for your help, have some cupcakes which look really quite disturbingly real at first glance.

Don't click if you're in public, or with small children, and care about what people see you looking at!

...and children respected their elders.

So..hotter again! Was 32 here in London today (89.6F). People fainting all over the place, particularly the tube. They get hundreds of people keeling over down there on a warm day. Used to get called to some of them, when I walked a beat.

Still, by tomorrow morning it might have dropped to the low 20s. Maybe. but not in the city, I wouldn't imagine. Just in time to heat up again :)

Fashions - always questionable - are becoming truly hysterical. Roads still melting. Railway lines buckling. Tempers fraying. Lots of people drowning.


The dogs are loving the ice-sticks, though. I've promised Sherlock I'll get some ice-lollies on the go in the freezer tonight, too. And we've given the degus some ice cubes to play with too.

Sherlock really wanted to go to a watery park tonight, but it's way out of town, so he's going to have to wait.

I'm gearing up to see Mum at the weekend. Sherlock doesn't want to. I've tried to sweeten the general deal with promises of paddling pools. I'm not sure he's buying it.

Bright light, dark room

John and Sherlock have been working on the allotment today. John's feeling mainly better, glad to say.

Sherlock is annoyed he wasn't allowed to bring home any worms, and that John didn't have a spare apple tree about his person to plant.

We've got a shooting to sort out - one with over 100 witnesses, none of whom want to talk to us. So that's always helpful. I'm sure we'll get there eventually, but...it's a frustrating job. And we're still working on a murder/suicide too, which is also frustrating. And prepping a few cases for court, trying to get warrants, the usual. Too much reading when my body's trying to rebel against me. But better than running around, I suppose.

And tomorrow is the marathon, so...well, who knows what'll happen? We know there will be people who get distracted and forget their bags, and we know that people will be more vigilant than usual, so we fully expect at least some chaos. It seems...I don't know, there's a big generational split, isn't there, regarding who is seen as a threat, and how we react. It's taken a long time for me to stop expecting the coded phonecalls - in fact, that's a lie. I still expect them. Hard to remember the kids coming up through the ranks today don't know what it's like, hearing one's come in, chucking yourself in the nearest panda car and driving as fast as you can to where you know, for sure, there's a bomb.


Jo got in touch today. Most of you will probably have seen John's blog. Apparently Bryan's got a show in a gallery. And two of the pictures are of me. As John would say 'So that's a thing that's happened'. Or maybe he'd say 'which has happened'...

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. I want to feel nothing.

And as the sunset faded I spoke to the faintest first starlight

It's quiet.

We've gone from having Mycroft, Carla, Paul, Sherlock and two dogs to just Sherlock, all in a couple of hours. The flat seems very still.

We had a fantastic day today. Motorbikes, mud, the six of us...it was chaotic, crazy, but just loads of fun. The weather was perfect - recent rain, but beautiful today. We were with a good group to get out on the trails - everyone was fairly experienced. We got some real speed on. Got some good air off some kickers, it was just...yeah, great. I only fell of twice. One of them was a landing that I got all sorts of wrong - and the source of my (extra) painful bum.

Yesterday all the kids behaved impeccably. And ensured their greater freedom in the future, by being so responsible.

So, firstly, Sherlock and Paul said I had to post this:

It's enough to drive you crazy if you let it

Back at work.

Danger, Murray, sorry for being an arsehole recently. To coin a phrase - it's not you, it's me.

We went and saw the allotment earlier. It seems...quite big? But not for the four of us. And it's not like it's been neglected - Reg has tried to keep on top of it, so we just need to dig it all over and then get planting! Sherlock was very happy to see that Reg has lots of strawberries, so we might be able to have a few plants which will give us a crop. We'll have to think about getting a shed, and either a greenhouse or some cold frames or something. And if we do want to grow soft fruits then an enclosure for that.

Murray was very kind earlier and ...allowed the boys to take him out and show him London. Although I'm not quite sure which bits they showed him. A wet bit, by the sounds of it... And apparently Sherlock picked his pocket and then held his wallet to ransom, until Murray agreed to some more Sherlock-friendly purchases. (This is because Murray dared to hide Sherlock's easter eggs earlier. I'm assuming John is doling out some form of punishment/education.) I might have done, but John had already nearly made me late for work.

Possibly not quite as wet as this - this is the Met's Marine Policing Unit demonstrating just how tidal the Thames is - seems like a lot of people don't realise (Which is good, when they think the bodies they dump won't be found, and turn up at low tide.)

I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take

Spent today stuffed in a dark evidence store, breathing the dust of a thousand ruined lives.

Started coughing when we got in there...haven't stopped yet. Feels like I'm smoking again - that permanent slight-lack-of-breath. Like, just on the verge of panting. In Sherlock's words, 'it's stupid'.

Anyway, slowly building this case back up from the mess it was left in. Hope we can get enough together to make it stick. I think we will, but it's all more time and stress the family of the victim don't need.

Heard this today - I think it's brilliant.

So before you point your fingers, Be sure your hands are clean.

Mycroft's app on my phone is still providing me with endless amusement - it told me to cover my DCI with glitter earlier, has a fairly good grasp of the fact I need a lot of coffee, and isn't too rude!

Sherlock grumbles when it tells me to kiss John though :)

Got court tomorrow, which should keep me out of trouble for a bit. Big case, I hope it goes the right way for us - although we won't know for a while, I doubt.

It's very hard, obviously, persuading people to give evidence in court against violent criminals. I completely understand why people don't want to do it - but. thankfully, lots of them do and get criminals put in jail.

Witnesses in trials like this get a Witness Care Officer - well, everyone can get one, but they play a bigger role when it's a big case, naturally. And it's frustrating for us sometimes not to know exactly what the CPS were thinking when they call certain witnesses - and even more frustrating when the CPS or the court won't allow special measures, like screens or remote video link. Makes our job really hard, and witnesses do sometimes turn hostile or just refuse to attend/stay silent.

Anyway, all far too serious to think about right now. Feel free to ask if you're interested.

Have an owl burrito.

The only explanation I can find

Was at court today for two things - well, mainly for one case, which went okay. I'll hope that the jury come to what I consider to be the right decision there, once they've heard the rest of the evidence.

It's quite a drama, really, courtrooms. Especially the public gallery. Friends of the victim and friends of the accused can clash there, if you're not careful. It's...yeah, it's odd. Each part of the room has these opposing sides, fighting battles of words, following ancient rules.

I got out of that case in time to get to a sentencing for another case, that was, by coincidence, taking place down the hall.

I'm glad to say that the guilty party there got life (which, to people not from these parts, doesn't mean he will necessarily spend the rest of his life in prison. He will probably be out in 17.)

The family were very grateful. I got hugs from both his mum and his dad. It's hard to know what to say. They know that, for us, it's another case. We've had to move on, new cases, new murders.

I always hope that, after the funeral, the trial, the verdict, the sentencing is...well, the end. I hope it brings a different sort of closure for the family. But I know that they'll be counting down every one of those 17 years. The man convicted of the murder of their son may well be out of prison when he's 39. Their son was 24 when he was killed.

What we do can never be enough. But it's something.


In other news, John filmed Sherlock at kung fu today. He looked very focused on his work. I was very impressed. I've been forced to promise to help him practice. I shall be forced to use sofa cushions in my defence.

Step beside the piece of the circumstance

Right, now peace has (sort of) descended, after Sherlock stealing one of my books for his own intellectual gain.... I shall attempt to write this entry and think about my presentation.

So...sorry, I can't even remember who asked about first responders (by which I don't mean medical first responders - I mean the first officers on the scene of a homicide/attempted.)

John is now laughing because he's reading chapter titles form my book.

Bet he wishes I'd brought home the snappily titled: "Template Protocol for the management of detainees who are suspected of swallowing or having packed drugs or foreign objects into body orifices or cavities"

Anyway...

yes, whoever it was, the very first priority is to establish if the 'body' is really dead. It becomes incredibly embarrassing for all concerned if they are discovered to be alive after an officer's been reeling out crime scene tape for half an hour and drinking tea given to them by locals and not rendering first aid.

So you always get a contaminated scene, basically. What the officers need to know is how to preserve it as best as possible. So, for instance, establishing a single entry/exit and walkway. Sketching/photographing the scene before moving things. Noting where the things were moved to. Starting the Crime Scene Log. ensuring no one enters the scene without protective clothing.

If the victim is still alive, then someone travelling to hospital with them, in case they can identify their attacker, or note a dying declaration (which can be used in court.) Preserving their clothes, getting a pre-transfusion blood sample preserved for evidence. If they die on the way to hospital/in hospital, making sure all the medical equipment used is left in place and not removed.

Obviously, there's lots to talk about, hence them wanting me to run a presentation!

But ask away, if you have specific questions.

I'm going to put Sherlock to bed...

Oh, and just to add - please sign this petition. The law they are trying to pass is completely horrific. If John and I were to live in Nigeria when this bill was passed we could be sentenced to death, just for being us. Jailed for ten years, just for living together, or holding hands, or wishing to be married. Please help people not as lucky as we are.  www.allout.org/nigeria-veto 

The moon comes up...and the music calls

Nearly missed a day! But Sherlock is now asleep (he is currently bunched up in a tiny corner of his bed, asleep on his face, in a right tangle of arms and legs. I don't know how he can sleep like that!) John is looking like he might drop off at any minute. And I'm still annoyingly awake.

Tomorrow I have to try and write my appraisal, catch up on the latest paperwork, files, and try to get a bit further on a few cases.

I think it's amazing how forensically aware gangs are these days, and it's making life very difficult as an investigator.

What would you guys do if you'd shot someone, to try to destroy/hide evidence?

There's also doubtless ACPO reports and best practice recommendations stacking up. It can be hard to keep up with the cutting edge of evidence gathering/forensics when we're busy.

And there's talk of running some sort of course, as an SIO, for first responders, on identifying categories of death, and acting accordingly...because I've got so much free time to do that!

My head will be alphabet soup with all the acronyms by the end of tomorrow.

This is, of course, if no one gets murdered...

I know I'll never be me, without the security, of your loving arms

I just sang the new Bond song to John. Well, I tried. He laughed so hard that I started laughing too, before the end.

I assume he was laughing at the singing, but I suppose there was a chance it was my Bond-theme-style-dance that I did along with it. All slo-mo arm waving and shooting.


Sherlock is now completely set on going camping over the half term. It's still Mycroft's decision, though, which Sherlock thinks is so unfair. But it's Mycroft who will have homework, and who'll need more of a break. (And who has now said he'd like to go camping.)

I have promised to make him the dessert we saw last night.


I'm feeling a lot more positive since John and I had our talk. I don't know, feels a bit less lonely, you know? Not even that I've talked to him about anything I hadn't already, but just the thought that I probably could, if I did want to.


I think I need a guitar stand. I usually just lean them up, or put them back in their bags, but it's not exactly safe or good for them. Especially when Sherlock is being a bat. Or an owl. Not sure which.

Not happy about the case we're got right now. No suspects yet. I hate that.

You want to throw confetti fingerprints

So, clearly my last poll was a bit silly. You don't get to pick and choose what evidence you get when you're investigating a crime.

The person who chooses that, you could say, is the criminal. So perhaps the question should have been 'which of these would you rather leave behind at the scene of a crime, if you were a criminal...'

I'm happy to report that 53% of you would make rubbish criminals. Actually, to be fair, most criminals make rubbish criminals, so perhaps that's not so good!

Anyway, from my perspective, as a copper... Fingerprints, brilliant. Mainly because we have a LOT of them on record, we can take them easily, even out on the street, these days, get a match, make an arrest, fantastic.

Footprints...well, excellent if you leave them. And lots of people do. Because none of us can levitate yet, and very few criminals carry a mop and bucket with them... however, a bit prone to being ruined by others. And we have to catch you to get a match.

DNA...if you're a convicted criminal, we'll have it on record, otherwise, again, we need to get you and take it, and it does take time. But still, a good find at any scene.

However, in the eyes of the law, one of these results is less reliable than the others...

Oh I know your face, I've seen it a thousand times

First, good news.

The murder/manslaughter rate in England and Wales is at an almost-thirty-year low. Mainly due to a fall in rates of domestic violence. I can't tell you how happy that makes me. I'd be very content to be out of a job if that were ever the reason.

Second - people keep asking me about Olympic traffic lanes and how they work - I know as little as the rest of you. I think the entire idea will cause total havoc.

Some people might get some pleasure out of hate

Saw this quote today. Made me smile.

"The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous toy."

Friedrich Nietzsche.

Damn. I just want Danger and play, no women... ;)


Someone asked about the case the other night.

We haven't made any arrests yet. Someone was stabbed down in the tube system.

I hate working in the tube. It's normally hot down there, but late at night, once the trains have stopped running, it gets roasting. (the only way that air gets circulated in the London Underground is that the trains push the air around through the tunnels.)

And nowadays, that reminds me of the hours - days - we spent down there after the bombings. Working in the sweltering heat, trying to find evidence, body parts, any clue as to who did it. Any items belonging to the dead or injured. Anything out of the ordinary. Squeezing into tiny spaces, through gaps in the twisted wreckage. We were down there for so long you had no clue when you came out if it should be night or day. You couldn't drink enough water, the paper suits stuck to you the second you walked in, sweat running off you.

Obviously it was all worth it. But now, whenever I'm down there, that's what I think of. The chaos, but also the calm, where there should have been millions of people heading to work, through the rush hour, the sound of the trains whistling through far off tunnels. There was none of that.


Anyway, one more day of work, then I shall be taking John out on a date on Thursday.

When we kiss, Fire...

Awake. Just about. Coffee. Sherlock telling me about fireworks so fast it's all just one long word. John making me toast.

Nicky sent me this, to make up for me not going to see a beacon being lit. It's the one they went to.

Sherlock wants to play music on top of Buck house. I actually believe he might one day, too :)

Last night was fine, I mean, not great, too many people, terrible crime scene, in terms of evidence being messed up, too many people. Someone had been stabbed, lots of people walking past until they realised he wasn't just a drunk, he was in trouble. So not good from our point of view.

He's alive right now...but it's not looking good. too much blood loss. So it's going to be a difficult one. Don't want to think about it right now.

Mycroft said he really enjoyed last night. I get the impression they were somewhere with a very good view, and he thoroughly enjoyed the whole show. He told me off earlier for calling her Lizzy. Or Her Maj. Sorry, Ma'am. Boss.


Just caught Sherlock with another ninja bread man. I swear that boy has hollow legs. Or worms. Or a tardis for a stomach. He says it's my fault for making them so nice. Flattery, gets you everywhere.

Going to try and flatter John into making me more coffee...