December 16th excerpt:
Dean smirked, not above the chance to brag on his accomplishments. “I’m a tracker,” he said proudly, jutting his chin out. “So long as Sherlock gives me some idea what we’re searching for, I can lead him right to it. Just like I coulda told him, if he asked me, that one of his missing glasses is in the back of that cupboard pushed behind everything else, the other is mixed into his lab equipment, and the last is right above our heads.”
Pointing in time with each of his declarations, Dean indicated where all the missing cups were in the flat, and on the last, with his arm pointing overhead, he nearly stumbled over, losing his balance when the room went sideways.
Lestrade and Sherlock followed Dean’s finger in each direction he pointed. While Lestrade was confused by the final location, Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the ceiling, knowing the glass hadn’t been left on the light overhead. That left the flat upstairs as the only remaining option, the place where John Watson slept. And evidently did more than sleep.