I’m still kicking at the next chapter of Ilium, here’s the start of it, slightly more than six:
John’s breath hitched as they crossed into the station. He itched to have his gun. Instead he pushed his hands deeper in his pockets. After so long on the outskirts of society it wasn’t quite right to be around so many police. Donovan looked him over as they headed for Lestrade’s office and he turned away from her gaze, focusing on the dark coat in front of him and the confident stride. A radio squawked and he nearly stumbled, catching himself just in time.
“You all right?” asked Donovan.
“He’s fine,” said Sherlock, ushering him into the office.