Shadows of the Past (BBC Sherlock) -1-

Outtake #3 - An Irritating Disturbance

Why was I hearing music so early in the morning? I didn't even know what time it was, but I knew it was the worst possible time of night to phone somebody when they're sleeping.

I smashed my head into the pillow, willing the music away. Where was it coming from?

Extremely irritated, I picked my head up. Through the darkness and sleepy eyes, I tried to search for the source. I knew the TV wasn't going on in the den room, otherwise there would be light shining from the doorway.

I turned over to see Jim knocked out cold. I pushed him awake. He lamely swatted at me. I lightly hit his cheeks to get him awake. He groaned lowly in his throat, throwing an arm over his forehead.

"What?" he growled.

"I hear music."

"Did you leave the telly on again?"

I frowned. "No."

"You're hearing things, Rach. Go back to sleep."

"No, I'm not. I—" Silence fell in the room. I swallowed, wondering what was going on. I swore I had heard music.

"See? I don't hear anything." His fingers trailed down my arm. "Come here."

I nestled against Jim, still wondering where the music had come from. There was no way it was in my head. My eyes began to close. Maybe he's right, maybe it's nothing. It was probably from a dream—

It started up again, the music. My head shot up, my ears alert. Jim moaned. I glared at him.

"Do you hear it now?" I whispered in the dark.

"Oh. Wait..."

Yawning hugely, Jim forced himself out of bed. I messed with the sheets, watching his figure in the dark. I squinted as a small light shone in the bedroom. His phone. Of course. I recognized the tune: "Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees. I rubbed my exhausted eyes.

"Sorry, Rach," Jim murmured, "I've got to take this. Excuse me." He showed himself out of the bedroom and shuffled into the den room.

I made an exasperated noise, falling back into bed. Did Jim's business never sleep? I still didn't know what type of business he was in, he'd never specified. I wasn't about to ask him when he came back to bed though, not tonight.

Jim hadn't been on the phone for very long, at the most ten minutes. I heard him drag himself back into the bedroom. I turned away so the light from his phone wouldn't get in my eyes.

"Work?" I asked as he climbed back into bed.

"Sorry about that." He yawned, cuddling with me. "It was some little thing."

"They called you in the middle of the night for a little thing?"

Jim shrugged. "It couldn't wait until later."

"You're not being summoned, are you?"

"I'm not."

"Good, because I wouldn't be happy." I scratched my nose.

"Why?"

"You'd be leaving me too soon." My hand lay limply in his.

"Even if I was called in, I wouldn't leave. I'd at least make you breakfast first."

"Let's not kid ourselves, Jim. You'd order me breakfast before you'd make it for me."

"For someone who's really groggy, you're really talkative."

"You never talk about your work. You never really told me what you do."

"Menial work that would bore you to tears. I don't say anything so I spare you the pain of hearing about how monotonous it is."

"You sure? I mean, getting calls in the middle of the night for 'menial work'?" I yawned.

"Trust me, it's better if you don't hear anything about it."

"All right," I said a bit uneasily, reluctant to let the topic drop. "By the way, the Bee Gees, really?"

"Do you have something against it?"

"No. It's just...it's not something you hear as a ringtone." I shrugged halfheartedly. "If I hear it in my dreams tonight, I blame you. And please don't hum it while you try to sleep."

I was thankful for the silence that fell in the hotel room once again.

**Okay, so it's not much of an outtake. It just gave me an excuse to put in the song. But it gave us a little more Rariarty.**