Chapter 5: The Importance of Morning Coffee
Cecilia opened her eyes in the weak morning light and shut them again quickly in reaction to the shooting pain. She hated her past-self for drinking almost an entire bottle of wine. Her mouth felt disgusting. She took stock of her surroundings. Had she really passed out on Sherlock's couch? How embarrassing. She opened her eyes again, bracing for the throbbing headache the light caused. Sherlock was sleeping sitting up in his chair. She hoped he hadn't watched her sleep. She knew she didn't look like an angel when she slept, especially if she had passed out. She didn't remember much of the last night beyond opening the fridge door. Thankfully the images that had caused her to faint were no longer so quick to come to mind, and when they did they were not nearly as repulsive. The wine, though paining her today, had served its purpose. She quickly got up, stooped with the weight of a hangover. Cecilia just wanted to shower and lie down on an actual bed. She looked at her watch; it was late. She would have to settle for just the shower. Cecilia quietly opened the door went downstairs to her Aunt's apartment.
Sherlock awoke a few minutes later. He looked to the couch and was surprised to find he was disappointed that Cecilia was no longer there. He got out of his chair. His back was sore but he was accustomed. He set to removing the head and fingers from the refrigerator, putting them into a canvas grocery bag. He grabbed his jacket and strode out of the flat. He was going to take everything to the morgue where he could dispose of it without arousing a police investigation.
When Sherlock returned later in the morning Cecilia was in the kitchen, putting away the groceries from the day before. She hadn't heard him come in. He softly stepped into the kitchen and leaned on the island. Cecilia was bent over, trying to find a place for the package of tomatoes. She had put on fresh clothes after she showered downstairs; a silky camisole, a cardigan, and her favorite pair of jeans.
"How are you feeling?" Sherlock asked quietly after he had seen enough.
Cecilia jumped and whipped around. "You scared me, Sherlock!" she would have yelled, but she knew John wasn't up yet and she didn't want to wake him.
"I'm sorry." He laughed, not apologizing at all. She scoffed at his playfulness, it was unusual for him to be acting this way, but she enjoyed it.
"Thank-you for… taking care of me last night." She looked down coyly.
" Not a problem… It was the least I could do, I suppose. John said I should be sorry I put a head in the refrigerator."
She nodded, accepting what she knew was an apology. "I thought you found all these civilized niceties boring?"
" Excruciatingly dull." His eyes alight. Cecilia poured a cup of coffee, two sugars, and set it in front of him. He took a sip.
John opened his bedroom door and walked out with his housecoat on. "Morning you two." He looked from one to the other wondering if anything had happened the night before.
"Morning, John. Coffee?" Cecilia asked him, a little too brightly.
" Please. You're certainly feeling well." He said as he took a seat at the kitchen table and pulled a newspaper towards himself. "I don't know if I would be feeling as chipper if I had drank and entire bottle of wine after fainting." He added.
"A hot shower and a cup of coffee can do wonders."
"Sherlock, did you take care of…everything?" John asked.
He did not answer immediately, distracted, but he came back to the moment "Of course."
" Ladies and Gentleman, the great Sherlock Holmes performs a household chore!"
Cecilia laughed out loud and clapped. "Oh! John, I forgot to tell you! Sherlock sent me a text with a smiley-face emoticon in it."
John laughed in disbelief. "My god, Sherlock, what's gotten into you?"
Sherlock, not amused, turned away and retreated to his chair. "It's irritating when you two gang up on me." He called in.
"Never, ever, leave." John said to Cecilia with laughter in his eyes and sincerity in his voice.