The case had wrapped up rather nicely, and the nurse and the paranoid patient remained safe and sound. John likes when the cases have a happy ending, and apparently so do his readers. It's an odd relationship that a man has with strangers on the internet. He's never met them, scarcely has any desire to do so, and yet still manages to feel a certain obligation to make them happy, and manages to feel happy himself when he does. Curious how someone can have such a connection to so many people he's never met.

John's got his notepad out when they find a seat at a table for their usual post-case meal. It's a bit like a cigarette after sex, in that it's a nice, pleasant cap to an otherwise stressful ordeal. This particular one involved a Russian crime gang looking for their old compatriot and murdering poor men whose identity they had mistaken for their intended victim. Of course they had to be killed -- they knew far too much. Sherlock had laid a brilliant trap for them with a fake blog post in Russian.

He scratches out something on his notepad and taps the end of the pen against his chin while he hums in thought. "What do you think...? 'The Case of the Wrong Man'? or 'The Patient Residence'?" He mostly just asks to make Sherlock feel included, though he knows he really couldn't care any less about what John titles his blog posts. "Or maybe there's a play on 'Russian' I can work in here..." John is exhausted, but his mind is still on overdrive from the events of the evening. He'd been garroted in an alleyway by a large Russian man and even now he's still struggling to come down from the adrenalin high.

God, is this how Sherlock feels all the time? Christ what a nightmare.