It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

34 - The Brief

"Elizabeth?"

"Mm...?"

"Elizabeth." Sherlock gently laid his hand on her shoulder and shook her slightly.

She lazily buried her head under her blanket, "Five more minutes?" Came her muffled question.

"Mycroft will be here in fifteen."

The thief rapidly pulled the blanket off of her face again and blinked at Sherlock, the time limit to get ready having shocked her into the land of the awake.

"What time is it?"

"8am."

"8am?! Well," She paused, sitting up on the sofa, "I did sleep early, didn't I?"

"Yes. You did."

She sighed, "I guess I shall need to get ready then but first - "

"Tea?" Sherlock presented a mug to her.

"Can you read minds?"

"No. But I do acknowledge routine. And you always start your day with tea."

"Well, thank you, sir. Your service is impeccable." She teased in an overly stereotypical British voice.

"Don't start." He said, a smile upon his lips again as she took the mug from him.

Sherlock left for the kitchen again. He had his microscope out and various things (ranging from what looked like finger nails to random chemicals) were laid upon the kitchen table also. Experimenting would always be a favourite pastime of his.

Elizabeth followed after him, her eyes briefly lay upon a full, severed finger and she grimaced, "I'm just not going to ask." She shook her head as she continued to Sherlock's bedroom, "Be out in a few. Just getting changed." And with that his bedroom door shut.

For a moment, Sherlock stared at the door, more so staring after her. Her minor freak out yesterday was still on his mind, still worrying him. Would she be fit enough to take on this operation that Mycroft had organised for her? Although, he knew if he questioned her about it, she would lash out. It seemed like a sensitive topic but it wasn't good to sweep things like that under the carpet.

A low rumble could be heard outside the apartment as John made his way down the stairs and turned into 221B.

"Morning." He nodded to the detective, "Elizabeth alright?"

The detective had confessed his worries for her wellbeing to the doctor, of course. He wasn't going to treat it like nothing had happened but John agreed that they could only wait until she came to them for help. All they could do was sit and wait and be available to listen when she was ready.

"Yes. She is just getting ready." Sherlock nodded, "She pretends like it never happened..."

"She will, Sherlock. Especially if she's not yet that comfortable with admitting she has a problem...a bit like you and your drugs - "

"I am a user. Not an addict."

John shrugged. The example was given and his point was made.

Elizabeth appeared from out of the room, looking a little brighter and more awake than before. She held her now empty mug in her one hand and waved at John with the other.

"Morning. How was the evening shift yesterday at the practice? Sorry I fell asleep before I could ask."

"No, yeah. It was alright. People being - sick. I helped them best I could. Less people than in the day."

"Less stressful then?"

"Oh yeah, definitely."

"Tea, John?"