deal or no deal | Sherlock Holmes

17

𝐸𝓋𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

"Bloody!" The first thing I wake up to is that followed by a childish grunt. My eyes flutter open and the first thing I see is Sherlock clutching handfuls of hair. Poor thing is hungover. This is why I don't drink. Well I have other reasons but whatever. I let out a soft chuckle as I remember the events of last night. He glares at me through hooded eyes. "Shh! You're making my head ache."

I roll my eyes. "No last night's wine is making your head ache." I sit up and immediately feel pain in my shoulder. I wince and bring a hand up to it. "You really need to invest in some new furniture."

"It's perfectly fine." He rubs his temples. "You simply just slept on it wrong."

"There's no right way to sleep on it." I roll my shoulder back.

"I'm sorry I've been so entangled in this ridiculous case that I haven't thought about your expensive taste in furniture dearest." He gives me an annoyed look. Which I won't take personally since he's hungover. He glances at the ground and sighs heavily. "Why is my good vest in the floor?"

I deepen my voice before saying, "Oh I'm sorry. I didn't take into account how expensive your vest was when I had to pull it off your drunk body."

He chews his lip as he narrows his eyes at me. "You're a cheeky one, Miss Flemington."

"I have to be to keep up with you, Mr. Holmes." I smile. I scoot closer to him and kiss his forehead. He moves to kiss me but I cover his mouth with my hand. "Oh that is foul!" I grimace. "What on earth was in that wine?" He swats my hand away and stands to his feet.

"Why- What on earth?" He whispers. He grabs his robe and throws it over himself. "Did you touch my stuff?"

I scoff. "No. I know better." He would throw a temper tantrum if I did.

He huffs and walks over to the chair Enola is peacefully asleep in. He clears his throat. "And why," She flinches at his voice. "pray, have you moved everything?" He makes motions with his hands.

She leans her head back and looks at the messy floor before looking back up at her brother. "Nothing looks different to me."

"Nothing looks different?" Sherlock hurried back to his paper mess. "Ever-" He sucks in a breath and grabs his head.

She laughs. "Your head is sore? I can't think why." She gives him a sarcastic look as she ties her neck scarf.

"This is why I don't have people in my rooms." He whispers under his breath making me scoff. A panic look forms on his face. "Oh except for you dearest." He pops a kiss on top of my head. He growls before he crouches down. "Look what you've done. My papers are entirely out of order." He rearranges two sheets of paper on the floor.

"Your case, it's vexing you." Enola points out. I agree. "Seems to be an awful lot of question marks on that map of yours." I shush her before he starts spiraling.

Sherlock leans down and grabs a plate. "Dundee cake. Door." He nods to the door. "I will see you again."

"Is that why you're drinking?" Gosh she is nosy. Then again she is a detective.

"I'm more than certain..." Sherlock sniffs the floor cake. "...it's not so old." I made that for him three days ago.

"Maybe I can help." She suggests.