Intellect. (A BBC Sherlock Fan Fiction)

Intellect- TWO

Intellect.

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TWO.

It was late morning/early afternoon when Amy woke up. She groggily opened her eyes with a groan and sussed out her surroundings.

As her memory came back to her, she jumped. Not because of where she was, but because of a certain tall, pale male standing over her, his black curls standing out from his vampiric complexion and his ice blue eyes piercing, flooding her soul.

Amy let out a squeak.  

'Sherlock!' she screamed.

'Amy,' he replied in a very bored tone.

'How long have you been standing there!?'

'Since ten o'clock,'

'And what time is it now?'

'One o'clock.'

"Sweet Jesus!" Amy thought to herself. "I've slept fifteen hours!"

'Why were you watching me?' she asked out loud. Her stomach growled.

'Bored. Do you normally ask this many questions?' he quirked in response. 'John, make food!' he called out to his friend.

Amy swore she heard John shout "Mrs Hudson, can you make Amy some breakfast?" and get a response along the lines of "Not your housekeeper!"

'Not normally, but it's not everyday you wake up to a man towering above you. Chop off a bit of your legs will you?'

Sherlock cocked his head to the left, curious and confused. 'What would be the point in that?'

Amy smirked, 'Would make you shorter.'

Sherlock's sandy haired flatmate, John, arrived and carried with him a tray with a bowl of breakfast cereal and a hot cup of tea balanced carefully on top.

'Sherlock?' John asked confusedly. 'What are you doing in here?'

'Well, it is my bedroom. I could just as simply turn the question around and direct it at you,'

'Yeah, alright,' John set the tray on Amy's lap. 'There you go, eat up. If you need anything, just shout.' he said, smiling briefly at her before leaving the room.

'Thank you!' Amy called after him. 'So, Sherlock, what is it you do for a living? Certainly not cleaning, anyway,' she gestured to the mess of the room, and basically the whole flat.

'Cleaning is boring and a futile act on my part. I'm not a tidy person. As for my job, I'm the world's one and only "Consulting Detective",' he answered, watching Amy shovel her food with a look on her face that said "determined to keep it down".

When she had an empty mouth, she asked another question, 'What's a "Consulting Detective"?'

'The police consult me when they can't figure out who the criminal is. When they have no leads or suspects. Which used to be quite often, considering they'd hired idiots like Anderson and Donovan,'

'And they are who?'

'Doesn't matter, eat up.'

Amy sat eating her cereal and drinking her tea until they were finished. Sherlock sat watching her, out if curiosity, like she was one of his experiments.