FIC: The Day After the Night Before
This is for nekosmuse.
Title: The Day After the Night Before
Rating: PG
Synopsis: It's the day after Holmes's birthday and he's hung over.
The Night After the Day Before
As I descended the stairs on the crisp morning at the somewhat late hour of half past ten on the morning of the 7th January 1889 I wasn't expecting my close friend, Sherlock Holmes, to be up an about at such an hour. The night before we had been celebrating his 35th birthday, and as a result of all the drinks that members of the official police and gracious former clients had insisted on buying him he had been considerably worse for wear upon our return to Baker Street in the early hours.
So you could perhaps understand my surprise when upon entering the sitting room to find Sherlock Holmes (albeit unshaven and looking a little dishevelled) sitting at the breakfast table, his head upon his arms and breakfast untouched. I closed the door with a snap and saw him wince visibly.
"Morning, Holmes. How are you feeling?"
"I'll tell you when the room stops spinning." Was his somewhat muffled reply.
I laughed and took my place at the table. "You should eat something."
"I can neither stomach food or the idea of food at present."
"Yes I heard you this morning." I said as I poured out two cups of strong coffee.
"My apologies if I woke you." He murmured. "It is rather difficult to vomit quietly." He stood crossed the room to the sofa and flopped at little unceremoniously down upon it, throwing his arm over his eyes. "Why didn't you stop me?"
"You're allowed to get merry on your birthday."
"Merry!"
"In fairness," I replied glancing over to him as I tucked into the most excellent sausages that our good landlady had provided. "I had no idea you were that drunk. Not until you fell off that stool." Holmes groaned at the memory.
I sighed, stood and headed over to the locked cupboard where I kept my medical bag. There, I unlocked the cupboard removed my bag and hunted around until I found what I was looking for. I removed the packet of delicate white powder and poured the mixture into a glass of water, this I took over to Holmes.
"Here." I said crouching down next to him holding out the glass.
Sitting up slightly he took it from me, "what is it?"
"It's something to help settle your stomach."
He looked a little relieved, "thank you." He drank the mixture down in one and handed me back the empty glass.
I smiled at him and stood up. "Oh, by the way you fly's open." He grunted in reply before reaching down to fasten his trousers. "I know you don't feel like it, but you really should eat something." I crossed to the table and held up a plate. "Toast?"
"If I don't you'll lecture me all day." He replied a little grudgingly, in return I smiled at him passed him the plate and then returned to my own breakfast.
During the long silence that followed the only noises were the sounds of Holmes munching slowly at the toast and the clink of my knife and fork as I tucked into my delicious breakfast.
"I didn't make a fool of myself, did I?" Holmes broke the silence in a quiet voice.
"No. Not particularly." I sipped my coffee, "apart from telling Lestarde very loudly that you loved him."
"Oh Lord."
"Since no one slapped cuffs on you I think that everyone was more amused than anything, especially after you tried to kiss me as we were helping you into the cab." I couldn't resist a glance in his direction. Holmes's ears had turned a rather interesting shade of pink.
"Apart from that, you were the model drunk."
"I'm going back to bed." He muttered before hurrying in the direction of his room. I allowed myself a smile as I heard the door close with a click.
Later that afternoon I put my head around Holmes's door to find him still sleeping soundly and so leaving him be I returned to the sitting room and absorbed myself in one of my favourite sea novels. Some time later there was a knock on the door.
"Come in." I called.
The door opened and in stepped Inspector Lestarde. "Afternoon, doctor." He pointed his hat in the direction of Holmes's door, "still asleep is he?"
"Ah yes. He did surface this morning, but returned to bed soon after. Sit down, Lestrade."
"Thank you." He settled himself next to me on the sofa. "I don't blame him, if I'd have been as ratted as him I wouldn't have even bothered getting out of bed in the first place!"
I laughed. "It's a good job he's a quiet drunk, I don't think I could have coped with him singing or anything."
"Quiet drunk, ha. Apart from shouting to the world that he loved me!" Lestrade blushed slightly, "I've heard no end of it down at the Yard I can tell you."
"Drink?"
"Oh...er, yes please." I poured him a drink from the decanter and held it out to him. "Thanks." He took a sip. "Gregson's been having some fun at my expense. He said no wonder Mr Holmes is always busying himself with my investigations."
"You know he didn't mean it, Lestrade."
"Oh I know it, everyone knows it. To tell the truth though, doctor, I have often wondered about him. Haven't you?"
"I'm sorry, wondered about him in what way?"
"You know... if he's..."
"Oh." I laughed. "To be honest Lestrade I haven't given much thought to Holmes's...intimate nature. I really don't think he has one."
"And you've never...?"
"Well, at least not consciously. The idea of him being...romantic with anyone is... well, it's... it's..." I couldn't quite find the words but Lestrade understood.
He drained his glass and stood. "Thanks for the drink, let him know I called round."
"Oh..er, why did you?"
"Oh I was banking on him being up, I wanted to tease him about last night. Does he remember everything?"
"I don't think so, and I've not told him yet. Call again this evening."
Lestrade smiled and picked up his hat, "I shall. Afternoon."
"Afternoon, Inspector."
I chucked to myself and turned to find Holmes standing in the doorway of his bedroom with a horrified expression on his face.
"What did you mean 'you've not told me yet'?"