No Shit, Sherlock

Vampire

Sherlock was already gone when I woke up, like always. He's a morning person, while I am a night owl. I walk down the stairs to see Tewkesbury and Enola sitting at the kitchen counter. Both of them groan.

"Good morning," I say.

Tewkesbury lifts his head up, "You're up late."

"She never wakes up early," Sherlock says, walking through the front door with bags.

"I do wake up early, but only when necessary," I argue.

He sets the bags on the counter, "I got us pastries for breakfast."

The two teens in front of us immediately open the bags, both grabbing a couple of croissants. Sherlock grabs one as well and turns to me, "Aren't you going to eat?"

"I will later."

"You never eat in the mornings," he says.

I pat his arm as I walk around him, "I don't like eating in the morning."

I pour a glass of water and sit on the couch, staring out the window in front of me. Sherlock sits next to me and holds out a croissant, "Eat."

I give him a light-hearted glare, but take the croissant. There's no use in arguing about it because Sherlock Holmes is an incredibly stubborn man. He usually wins every argument. So, I eat the croissant.

Enola sits next to me and rests her head in my lap. "My head hurts."

I run my fingers through her hair, "That's what happens when you get drunk."

"How do you find it enjoyable, Sherlock?"

He gives her an annoyed look, "I don't."

Tewkesbury drags himself into the room, falling into the chair in front of us. He runs his hands down his face, "I'm never drinking again."

"I seriously doubt that," I say, laughing.

"I have to go meet John now. I'll see you tonight," Sherlock says, kissing the top of my head.

I watch as he leaves, a smile on my face. Enola pokes my face, "Stop staring at my brother, and pay attention to me."

Tewkesbury sits where Sherlock was and rests his head on my shoulder. "Do we have to leave the house?"

"Afraid so, my dear berry boy," I say.

He groans, "Don't call me that."

"Come on, we must get to the office. We have clients to meet," I say.

The two teens stand up, both mumbling in distaste. I throw my arms around them, and the three of us go to the office.

~~°°••°°~~

It's only noon now, and we've already dealt with three clients. Only one of them had an actual case, though. A missing horse is not that exciting, but it's better than nothing.

Timothée walks in with a smile, "Hello, friends. Has anything interesting happened today?"

"Enola and Tewkesbury got black-out drunk last night," I say, smirking.

He wraps his arm around Tewkesbury's neck, pulling his head down so he can ruffle his hair. "How's the headache?"

The two boys proceed to wrestle each other down to the ground. Enola lets out a sigh, "Take it outside. I will not have you two breaking another vase."

They sit up, their hair is messy, and they both wear lopsided grins. Timothée laughs, "You were the one that broke the vase."

"Oh, right. Well, I don't need another broken one," she says, hitting him with a newspaper.