Five and half hours earlier…..


221b Baker Street.

5:30 A.M.

BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP!

John Watson rolled over onto his side with a groan. He reached out blindly, fumbling for the alarm clock. His hand struck the button and the alarm shut off. John buried his face in his pillow stifling another groan. His shoulder ached profusely, refusing his silent plea for more sleep. John finally sat up on the side of his bed and rubbed the morning grit from his eyes. He stretched and let out a loud yawn. After he showered, shaved and got dressed, he headed downstairs for a quick breakfast before he left for his shift at St. Barts.

5:35 A.M.

Sherlock stretched out the kink in his neck as he buried himself further in the Afghan. The three nicotine patches he'd slapped onto his left arm had worn out hours ago. Sherlock yawned until he heard his jaw pop. As he settled himself further into the couch his sharp ears heard movement on the stairs. He jerked his arm underneath the blanket just before John's shuffling footsteps reached the sitting room. There was a pause, then the crinkling of discarded paper. Sherlock kept his eyes shut as he heard his flat mate sigh and abruptly move into the kitchen. Before long, he smelled grits and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. The clinking of dishes roused him from his stupor. Sherlock listened as John's footsteps finally faded down the stairs. Once he was gone, Sherlock got up and slapped on another patch.

5:45 A.M.

Once outside, John flagged down a cab and departed for St. Barts.

6:15 A.M.

St. Barts Hospital

John paid the cabbie and entered the hospital; he grimaced as he heard the sounds of chainsaws and drills. A desperately needed wing was being added to St. Barts. John gritted his teeth against the noise and abruptly sneezed as saw dust tickled his nose. How it could spread so fast was beyond him. John sneezed again as he neared the front desk.

"'Morning, Kelly," John sneezed, bloody sawdust.

"Bless you, John," Kelly replied, "Catching cold?"

John shook his head, "Sawdust-Aaaa-chooo!"

Kelly winced in sympathy as she shuffled some papers on her desk. She said, "It's been getting on everyone's nerves, Lord knows how we desperately need more room to house patients and all." Kelly leaned closer, "Keep an eye out for Dr. Moffat though; he's been a veritable bear this morning."

John grinned. "Oh I will, believe me."

He headed off towards his office. Dr. Moffat was generally known for his gruff, no-nonsense attitude that could get downright nasty when he believed you were doing something wrong. John shuddered as he remembered his first encounter with the tall, burly doctor. Somebody sneezed, startled, John looked around. Striding towards him was Dr. Moffat himself, his elbow still covering his face. Dr. Moffat sneezed again, barely avoiding a collision with John, but not before snarling, "Quit gawkin' an' get to work, Watson!" and sneezed three times in succession.

John could barely contain his chortles as he heard the violent swearing fade down the hall, punctuated with sneezing.

8:30 A.M

221 b Baker St.

Mrs. Hudson hummed to herself she sliced some homemade bread and plopped it into the toaster. She opened a cupboard and pulled out a frying pan and set on her stove. Martha tuned in her small portable radio to the news station. She grinned, her mood turning melancholy as she remembered her Teddy giving to her as a first anniversary gift. Martha shook herself and grabbed two eggs from the fridge. What she heard on the radio was definitely not the weather, curious, Martha turned it up. The two eggs dropped to the floor.


To Be Continued...


A/N: Isn't that an evil cliffie? I thought about writing more but then I decided that it might spoil the story. Next chapter up as soon as I can get myself to write it. You'll find out what happened in the next chappie.

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