I do not own Elementary. No copyright infringement is intended nor should be inferred.
Early
Joan traditionally was not a morning person. Years of med school, early rostered shifts and her medical career had never really succeeded in making her a morning person. Early starts were a necessity not a choice.
"Watson!"
"I no longer live in your house." Joan muttered under her breath, hoping her friend and partner would take the hint and let her stay in bed past 6 am. He had a new little protege now, he could deprive her of all her sleep.
"Watson!" She pulled the duvet over her head, determined to ignore him. For a genius the man was a fool.
"In here." She called as he barged into her bedroom.
"Watson. Are you sick? Is your hearing affected?"
"Sherlock! It is " She glanced at her bedside clock "six thirty. Let me repeat that. SIX THIRTY! In the morning. You have once again let yourself into my apartment. Why? Go annoy your new sidekick."
"Kitty is not my sidekick as you eloquently put it."
"Go home Sherlock."
"No. I have no desire to be returning to England."
"I meant the Brownstown not your country of origin." She hugged her duvet covered knees as he paced the room. "Why are you here? And don't say because you couldn't find me in the rest of the apartment."
"Gregson called."
"And?"
"There was a body found. Approximately forty minutes ago. I."
"Go make coffee, let me get dressed." She ran a hand through her long black hair. He remained transfixed for a moment. "What?"
"I am no good at giving bad news sympathetically. I dare say you had instruction on how to do so when you were studying medicine."
Joan felt her pulse quicken. Something was wrong, seriously wrong.
"We did. What is it?"
"The body is that of an adult male, in his late 40s. Joan, I am sorry. I am so so sorry." Joan frowned. She could sense the tension radiating off him.
"What?"
"It's Michael. Joan, your brother has been killed." She shook her head slowly, hardly able to believe what she had just heard. Her only living relative was dead.
"When?"
"Late last night."
"How?"
"Gunshot wound but the pathologist hasn't determined exactly." Tears filled her eyes as Sherlock stared at her. Emotion wasn't his forte. Joan nodded, unsure what to say or do. Blinking back tears she looked away, letting the news sink in. Sherlock touched her arm gently.
"Hey." He mumbled as he pulled her into his arms.
Xxxx
A/N do I go on? Please review.
