Elephant's Memory (Sherlock BBC)

A Scandal In Belgravia Part 1: Teatime

NEW COVER! :)

Clara was rudely awakened by a shout from the living room.

"BOYS! You've got another one!" Clara groaned and turned over onto her stomach. This was often how she woke up now, to shouting and crime and the warmth of another body in bed with her. Sherlock was still asleep, hand splayed out on the far side of her waist. Sherlock wasn't wearing anything under the covers; this was also usual. He had confessed his hatred of pyjama pants, and since they had been sleeping in the same bed for nine months, Clara indulged his hatred. She, however, stayed fully clothed, today clad in a full-length silk nightgown in a jade colour, so very close to the colour of Sherlock's eyes, and trimmed with silver cording.

"She's calling for us." She murmured sleepily, unsure if she was making sense. Sherlock groaned a little, fingers tightening on her waist.

"Let her." There was anther desperate call from Mrs Hudson, and then the thundering of footsteps from the upstairs bedroom. There was a resounding groan of complaint from both the heiress and the detective, who knew now that they were about to be forced to get out of bed.

"Do we have to?" Clara's voice was muffled by the fact that she had just shoved her face into a pillow as if trying to smother herself.

"Sherlock! Clara! Get Up!" John shouted, and started pounding on the bedroom door. "Sherlock, we have a case! Clara, don't you have a meeting?"

"I'm on sabbatical!" she shouted back at him, grouchily propping herself up on her elbow. She kissed the shell of Sherlock's ear, and then rolled over and grabbed her sheer dressing gown from the floor. "I'll make tea." She decided, slipping on her slippers, and then she padded off to the kitchen to put the kettle on. On the way, she noticed a very overweight, unconscious man laying on the floor, and Clara tutted with distaste, but she grabbed the tea kettle and the tea leaves and enough tea cups for five. She looked back and forth between the canisters of tea, trying to decide.

"Mmm... Hey, John?"

"What?" He asked, trying to wake up the gentleman with one of her smelling salts.

"Earl Grey or Breakfast Blend?"

"I'm thinking Earl Grey today," John replied, and then she set the kettle to boil for their morning tea.

"Sherlock! Are you alright with Earl Grey?" She called. There was a silence which meant that he clearly didn't care. Clara sighed, and helped the man (who had been revived) to his feet and then into one of the dining chairs. Sherlock then stumbled out of his room in only his dressing gown, which left half his chest bare. Clara tried not to stare. She certainly wasn't complaining.

"What happened?" Sherlock asked with no preface whatsoever. Clara's hands were on her notepad immediately, scribbling down everything that Sherlock and the man were saying. "Tell us from the start, and don't be boring." The fat man swallowed.

"W-well, M'names Phil, Mr Holmes." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Yes, and what happened to you. No dawdling."

"Sherlock," Clara said pointedly, giving him a dirty look. There was another eye roll sent back at Clara, and then Phil began to speak.

"W-well, y'see sir, I had to take a trip on business, you know - I was heading out to Bristol when all of a sudden, my car starts slowing down. It wasn't the petrol, but my check engine light was on, and I just rolled to a stop. Well, when I stop, there's this-"