Hello again. This is the next chapter to the story. In this chapter Sherlock has a hangover, I apologise if I do not get the mood right for him because I have never experienced a hangover. Merry Christmas to you all, hope you have a good one and I will probably upload my next chapter next year. Enjoy, please review.

The Morning After: 23/02/10

Sherlock awoke at about 1 o'clock in the afternoon. He didn't remember falling asleep, but here he was in bed, but he was not in his own room. He was about to sit up when he felt the most awful of headaches creep into his mind, he did eventually sit up but was clinging to his head and looked at his surroundings. The room was a plain lilac with pure white furniture and fancy ornaments; Sherlock was now sat up on a white bed, on the opposite side of the room was a door that was slightly open, there was a person inside creating a shadow. The door opened fully to reveal Suzi in a white towel... again.

"Morning, sleepy head." She smiled at him as she wrapped a towel around her wet hair from the shower. Sherlock began to worry about last night, him in someone else's bed, with a hangover never amounted to anything good. Sherlock pulled the covers off him to find he was fully clothed in his pyjamas.

"What happened..?" Sherlock was still rubbing his head and choosing his words carefully whilst pronouncing them as properly as he could so he didn't have to curse to himself if he made a mistake.

"You looked completely shattered last night; I let you sleep in my bed, whilst I was on the settee last night." She moved to her wardrobe and opened it up to pull out a white dress covered in a flower pattern.

"It's February... Suzi. A dress... really..?"

"I will have leggings on as well, I'll have you know."

"Oh... that makes all the... the difference then, doesn't it." Sherlock slowly slid his legs over the side of the bed and the soles of his feet pressed against the cold laminated floor.

"I'll get you some coffee, sober you up a bit." She laughed as she left the room holding her dress and leggings. "I'll be a few minutes; your clothes are on the dresser." Then she was gone. Sherlock got up, very slowly, and stumbled over to the dresser, the thought never occurred to him to ask where his pyjamas came from. He got dressed and stalked out of the room, he could smell coffee downstairs. When he eventually got to the bottom of the steps he waddled into the kitchen.

"Have you seen my phone..?"

"Yeah, it's here." Suzi passed Sherlock his phone and he took it from her hand. He turned it on and to his surprise he found twelve missed calls and seven texts.

"I should have told John where I was." He chuckled slightly to himself.

"Here. Drink it, you'll feel better." She passed Sherlock a mug of coffee. "It was black two sugars?"

"Yes, thanks." Sherlock took a sip. "After this I should really be going home, John must be out of his mind." Sherlock laughed again. Suzi just smiled at him, he really had no idea what happened last night, and Suzi wanted to keep it that way for as long as she could but she feared that there may be bumps along the way. She was crazy about Sherlock, she loved him so much and he never knew, all the signs she had been giving him, but he never returned the favour by saying 'I love you too'. That was all Suzi wanted, Sherlock to appreciate her as much she did him. Sherlock finished off his coffee and didn't let go of his head once.

"Give it time, the hangover will disappear eventually."

"Why can't it go now?" Sherlock spoke like a child and realised he had spoken too loud at the time and he screwed his eyes shut to block out the loud noise that happened.

"Serves you right." Suzi laughed at Sherlock and his reaction towards his hangover. "You have had one before; don't be such a baby towards it."

"Yes well... I don't remember it like this!" He spoke too loud again. "Why haven't you got one?"

"Well... I got up earlier and... I don't actually know why."

"I best be off." Sherlock stood up and looked around for his coat which he found on the back of a settee. He picked it up and put it on. Suzi saw Sherlock looking around for something else.

"What are you looking for?"

"Have you seen my scarf?" Sherlock was looking under the settees and around the furniture.

"Umm... no, I haven't seen it."

"I'll check upstairs." Sherlock could now walk that little bit faster he walked up the stairs and into the bedroom, Sherlock looked around for his scarf but couldn't find it, he got on his hands and knees and placed his hand under the bed to search for the missing scarf, he found his scarf sprawled out on the floor underneath the bed. He picked it up and noticed something different about it, there were more creases in it, Sherlock just ignored it and walked down the stairs to find Suzi at the bottom.

"Did you find it?"

"It was under the bed." Sherlock wrapped it around his neck to keep him warmer

"Oh... um... was that all you found?"

"Yes... Why would you ask that?" Sherlock looked at his watch. "I really should be going."

"Can you come around tonight?"

"I don't know about tonight. Maybe tomorrow, I'll see how busy I am. I'll text you, I promise." Sherlock smiled at her and walked to the front door.

"Can you please make space for tonight? We really need to talk!"

"Don't shout, please." Sherlock slowly raised a hand to his head to show he was suffering from an incredibly bad hangover.

"I'm not shouting. But do you promise me?"

"Yes, now can I please go home?" Sherlock was still holding his head in his hand.

"Go on. I'll meet you back here at about nine o'clock."

"Make it ten, please?"

"No, nine!" Her voice got a hint louder.

"Shhh... I'm still suffering here."

"Move, before I change my mind!" She laughed at her comment and it made Sherlock smile but he opened the door and walked out. "Don't be late!" Sherlock waved a hand at a taxi and it slowed down to a stop. "Oi, don't ignore me!"

"Yes, I'll be on time!" He shouted and he once again remembered his hangover and regretted talking at that volume, Suzi chuckled at his pain like she had done the previous times. As he got in the taxi he closed the door behind him and gave a slight wave to Suzi whilst she was waving back as well.

XxXxXxXx

It took Sherlock roughly half an hour to arrive back at Baker Street. He paid the driver and slowly stumbled out still holding onto his head having not let it go since he left Suzi's house. Sherlock fumbled in his coat pocket for the keys when the door swung open to reveal a figure that grabbed hold of his lapels.

"Not again!" Sherlock muttered to himself. The person pulled him in and slammed the door shut behind him. "Please don't hurt me! I've had one hell of a week!"

"Sherlock, I'm not going to hurt you! I'm just angry that you didn't call!" It was John who pulled Sherlock into the house. "Why didn't you call me, I've been worried SICK?"

"Shh..." Sherlock placed a finger to his own lips to symbolise John to be quiet. "But I bet you haven't been sick."

"No- Have you?"

"No, I just had the urge to say it." Sherlock laughed but his face suddenly turned into panic. "Actually... I think I'm going to be now!"

"Oh- umm..." John ran to look for something to give to Sherlock to be sick in. He ran up the stairs and into the kitchen, he found a bucket. As John jogged down the stairs being careful not to fall he returned to Sherlock who was happily - Well not exactly being happy about it - vomiting in one of Mrs Hudson's vases. "Sherlock... really? She's going to be angry with that, and it will smell like god knows what!"

"Uh, it'll smell like vomit."

"Sherlock, I was trying to emphasise how I will feel about the smell! C'mon let's get you cleaned up." John placed the bucket around his right arm and held onto Sherlock with his left arm. "In fact... you take the bucket, just in case of an emergency." Sherlock took the bucket off of John willingly and slowly made their way to the living room. Sherlock fell onto the settee and buried his face into the corner. "Get up Sherlock!"

"Shh..! It still hurts."

"Oh... well I am sorry. GET UP SHERLOCK!" John shouted in his ear. Sherlock groaned in agony and held onto his head with both hands.

"Fine, I'm getting up."

"Good, and while you're at it change your clothes, you stink from throwing up." John walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Sherlock sniffed his clothes and nearly retched at the scent. He slowly stumbled to his room and began to pick out an outfit for today. "Sherlock take a shower first, because the smell will have probably stuck to you, it certainly stuck in the air. I'm going out to buy some more air freshener then I'm staying over at Sarah's for a bit again. There's should still be hot water in the kettle by the time you're done. Stay out of trouble!"

"John, wait!"

"What is it, Sherlock?" John saw Sherlock emerge from his bedroom still dressed but without his coat and jacket on.

"Umm... I'm scared that something happened last night. But I cannot remember a thing; I vaguely remember being dragged into Suzi's house by force, that's why I was slightly worried when you pulled me in today."

"Slightly? Sherlock you were petrified!" John laughed but Sherlock kept a straight face. "Oh, and by the way, Mycroft said he's coming around to visit. So don't worry when someone knocks on the door. Right I'm going now, and don't leave the house without calling or texting me!" John turned around and left the room. Sherlock soon heard the sound of the front door open and close shut.

XxXxXxXx

Mycroft turned up at 221B Baker Street about an hour after John left. Mrs Hudson had obviously let him in, he couldn't have entered any other way. Sherlock was sprawled out on the settee when Mycroft walked into the living room.

"Sherlock, are you feeling any better after your incident?"

"Incident? What incident? I don't recall an incident that happened."

"Sherlock, the amount of times you have said the word incident in that little paragraph of yours has made me despise the word from ever using it again." Mycroft mad his way further into the room and sat himself down in Sherlock's armchair.

"That's mine!"

"I don't see your name written on it."

"Well, you will find fibres off of my clothes, hairs and probably pieces of dead skin. And if you run that through for DNA you will find my name come up therefore it does have my name written on it." Sherlock smirked at his brother, all Mycroft gave in return was a pathetic chuckle and he moved out of Sherlock's chair and sat in John's. "And that's John's chair. I'll go through the whole name situation again if you want."

"Can I sit anywhere?"

"No. Now if you wouldn't mind... please leave!" Sherlock was obviously feeling better and had sobered up a lot more.

"Brother, please. Listen to what I have to say-" Mycroft was cut off unexpectedly by Sherlock, who sat up abruptly to face his brother.

"NO! Mycroft! You listen to me for a change! It's always me that has to listen to you, possibly because I'm younger and you take that age for granted! No more! Ok? No! More!"

"Well... I'm sorry I made you feel that way but I must talk to you about your dearest friend, Suzi Colerast." Mycroft had stood up after finding it awkward to turn to face his sibling. "We saw you both last night. I take it you had a bit too much to drink last night?"

"You could say that. But please, enlighten me as to what happened last night. I don't remember a thing."

"Ahh... well... I'll leave that to Suzi then." Mycroft moved over to the window and peered out of it. Sherlock stood up from his position and wandered over to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

"Mycroft..? What do you mean you'll leave it to Suzi?"

"What I mean is I'll leave it to her to tell you what happened."

"Nothing happened though. That's what she told me." Sherlock was confused, after collecting everything he needed for the cup of tea he turned and walked over to Mycroft by the window.

"Well then, I won't disrupt what you believe." Mycroft turned to face Sherlock and placed a hand on his shoulder. Sherlock soon shrugged it off. "Why do you dislike me so, brother?"

"No, Mycroft the question is why MUST I like you?"

"We are brothers, Sherlock; that is why we must get along... like brothers do." Mycroft placed his hand back on Sherlock's shoulder; his brother did not shrug him off this time. Sherlock lowered his head, he had had enough of the arguments that he and his brother go through day after day, although he loved to contradict his brother, sometimes the fights got dragged on until they reached a point of no return.

"Why are you even here?" Sherlock lifted his head to look at his older brother.

"I'm here on business... involving you."

"Well it would wouldn't it." Sherlock muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for Mycroft to hear.

"Little brother, please, my concern for you grows daily. And I do not feel comfortable with the size it has grown to in this past few months. I have reason to believe that you are in grave danger."

"When am I never?" Sherlock turned away from Mycroft and practically threw himself on the settee; he was once again sprawled across the full length, his feet hanging off the edge.

"Sherlock, there have been numerous articles about you in the newspaper-"

"Oh, not this again, why does everyone find it suspicious?"

"Well, firstly: it involves you, secondly: all of the articles are top secret information that hardly anyone knew about-"

"Because you made sure it was kept hidden."

"And thirdly: we've found a body which involves the newspaper articles." Mycroft knelt down next to his brother who was still on the settee, he was trying his best to ignore Mycroft but he couldn't help but keep interest. "Sherlock if this continues..." Mycroft paused and gave a deep sigh, he moved his hand so it held onto Sherlock's, but he didn't react in offence, he just moved his head to face his brother. "...you will be killed."

Please review this, I like to read your opinions and if you would want anything to happen, all comments welcome. Thank you. Again have a wonderful Christmas! :D