Brilliant {A BBC Sherlock Fanfic}

Chapter Seven: Tea and Bombs

CHAPTER SEVEN: TEA AND BOMBS

"Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock said loudly, announcing his presence in 221B Baker Street as he stormed in, an exasperated Amelia trailing after him, John and Lestrade not too far behind. "We require your assistance."

"I think she got that, Sherlock." Amelia muttered, elbowing the detective in the side, biting back a smirk when he jumped and immediately glared at her. Amelia sighed and leaned up against a wall, playing chess against the computer on her phone.

A moment later, Mrs Hudson came trotting out of 221A, holding the keys to 221C, handing the keys to Sherlock, who hesitated before opening the door. "This door's been opened recently." Sherlock said quietly.

"Obviously." Amelia scoffed, tucking her phone away. "The chips in the doorframe give it away. If it was older, the wood underneath would be discoloured." Amelia pointed to a small, crescent shaped mark in the door, the paint chipped away slightly. "Did that a moment ago. The wood underneath is the same colour as the other chips." She pointed to a different mark in the door, "That one's older. The wood's a different colour."

Sherlock stared at her for a moment, then scanned the doorframe, validating her deductions. He nodded slightly.

"No. Can't be. That's the only key." Mrs Hudson gestured to the key in Sherlock's hands, eyes widening in fear of someone breaking into 221C. Sherlock scoffed and removed the padlock. "I can't get anyone interested in this flat. It's the damp, I expect. That's the curse of basements. I had a place once when I was first married. Black mould up the walls..." Mrs Hudson trailed off as Lestrade slammed the door in her face. She jumped slightly, "Oh! Men!"

Amelia followed Sherlock into the living room, stopping shortly when her gaze fell upon a rather peculiar set of items sitting in the centre of the living room." Shoes." She said, slightly confused. "That's not weirdly suspicious or anything." She stepped into Sherlock's way as he started towards it. "Careful, Sherlock. He's a bomber, remember?"

"I'm well aware." Sherlock muttered, walking round Amelia. He knelt down beside the trainers warily, palms on either side of the shoes, being careful not to touch it and ruin its forensic worth. Sherlock waved Amelia forward with two crooked fingers, "Safe?"

"I'm not a demolition expert, Sherlock."

"No, you're a strategist. So, tell me, is it safe?"

Amelia huffed and mumbled out a "Yes" before beginning to inspect the area around the shoes, searching for some sort of clue as to who'd broken in. Her sharp eyes spotted something in the corner and she snuck towards it cautiously. Amelia retrieved a pair of black leather gloves from her pocket and pulled them on, then picked up the strange, rectangular object. Printed on the paper was:

EARL GREY

James Moore Tea

Amelia's mouth suddenly went dry, and her hands clenched into fists. "Of course." she said darkly. "Of course he's behind this. Stupid, Amelia." Her face contorted into a snarl and she crushed the tea packet in her hand, until the paper tore, revealing the teabag inside.

Sherlock tilted his head to the side curiously at Amelia's behaviour but made no comment, choosing instead to silently inspect the shoe. He stiffened as the pink phone started to ring. Amelia gave him an odd glance, and then made a small gesture with her hand, prompting him to answer the phone.

He took it out, frowning at the screen which read:

NUMBER BLOCKED

"Hello?" He said, Amelia shooting him a brief, reassuring smile.