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Elle's Story	By : Cozygoma-lover Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3527 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of BBC SHERLOCK. It belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's estate, the BBC, Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. I gain nothing from my story financially. I enjoyed writing it, hoping you will have pleasure reading it equall

Chapter List
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Breakfast was eaten around 9am with most people deciding on poached eggs on toast after a refreshing glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Coffees and teas were made and consumed as talk drifted on to how long the Holmes' had lived there. Debbie confirmed nearly all Sherlock's life.
The day was overcast and rain was forever a threat in the air so the decision was made to show Sherlock's friends, Elle and Mary in particular, around the village where Sherlock had grown up, in the morning whilst it was still dry. Mycroft was making a few final adjustments to his wardrobe for the visit to Chequers, having noticed a black-tie invitation to a dinner on the Tuesday evening, so the other six walked out together.
The order started as expected: Mr and Mrs Holmes were leading, John and Mary next, with Elle and Sherlock slightly behind, but when they stopped to admire the bucolic view of England's amazingly green rolling countryside the pairs splintered, with the three men stretching out ahead laughing and talking away whilst Debbie pointed out what was where from their vantage point. Debbie took hold of Elle's arm and linked up, Mary on Elle's other arm as they set an easier pace back towards the home, just being able to see the men disappearing in the distance.
"How long have you known Sherlock then Elle?"
"We met on a case in February."
"I have never seen him so relaxed or happy. He is quite a changed man; for the better may I add. [The older woman nodded, the younger returning the acknowledgement with a bowed head also.] Is he still smoking?"
"No, not now. I know he used to. I am allergic to smoke, it effects my eyes terribly, so have become hyper-sensitive to the smell. I'm sure I would know."
"You are obviously a good influence on him all round. Is he still working alongside that French-sounding detective?"
"Greg Lestrade? Yes. French-sounding name, maybe, but a Londoner through and through. He calls John and Sherlock in on cases where their knowledge, intuition, skill-set and expertise outguns that of the usual Met."
"Does he still do any work for Mycroft?"
"Yes, occasionally. Not a clue what usually, it is often something highly classified and top secret and far more intriguing than something as common as murder, which makes the headlines eventually, but Mycroft calls and gets him involved on cases."
"How is his landlady? I can never remember her name."
"Mrs Hudson. She is very well, thank you."
"Is she happy about the arrangements when you stay at Baker Street?" Elle wondered how much to say.
"Yes. We get on really well, and she likes having a female to sometimes talk with."
"Sherlock says you are just about to start working again, after the business you worked for closed down."
"That's right. A colleague of mine and I were the only two staff in a small PR company - when it closed earlier this year very suddenly I was out of work. I have recently been offered a new role at a different PR company, with some of my old clients back in tow. I start a week on Monday."
"What about you, Mary, what job do you do?"
"I'm a part-time practice nurse at the Health Centre John works at as a locum doctor when he is not working alongside Sherlock, where we met three years ago."
They rounded the corner back into the drive. The door was ajar slightly and the women walked in to hear lots of laughter and smell the filter coffee maker brewing away. They sat down to coffee before Elle enquired what they were all laughing at. Mycroft explained he had got a black tie dinner as discussed and could not get the damn tie itself to sit properly and wished he had bought one of those fake affairs. His mother explained there would probably be an army of staff at Chequers who would be able to help, but Mycroft hated the idea of anyone knowing that he could not tie his own.
Elle offered to help and asked where they could get Mycroft in front of a mirror where he could sit down, he being six inches taller than her, identical to his brother. He suggested his bedroom and the pair of them went upstairs. The others stayed in the kitchen, Sherlock twitching as ever but determined not to look as if he did not trust his brother with his girl - although... A lot of hilarity could be heard from the floor above. Finally the pair descended, Elle had obviously been crying laughing from the look on her tear-stained face and poor Mycroft just looked more frustrated, though very dapper in a perfectly tied bow-tie.
Suddenly Elle said "I have an idea. Excuse me Debbie, do you have a sewing box or similar I could raid please?"
"Yes, certainly. What do you need?"
"A sharp pair of straight scissors, some hooks and eyes or something similar if you have them, and black thread and a needle. Thank you." Mycroft and the rest looked at her quizzically but she obviously had a plan. "Mycroft, could you go and put on the shirt you will be wearing with your bow-tie?"
He disappeared immediately, coming back down with a beautifully smart crisp white shirt on, his bow-tie loose in his hands; his mother providing the bits requested from her sewing box.
"Could I also borrow a pen please? It must have a tight lid or retractable nib." Will went and fetched a retractable biro from his study. They all watched very intrigued. Elle got Mycroft to sit on a chair in the kitchen and got Mary - the smallest - to hold the pen at the back of Mycroft's neck at the nape, perpendicularly, crouching low out of her way. Elle stood behind Mycroft and tied the bow-tie perfectly from over his shoulders, using the pen width to give her a tiny bit of slack in the back. The pen and Mary were then removed from the equation and Elle got Mycroft to lean as far forward as he could as she snipped his bow-tie in half at the back. Using the black thread she first made a very tidy job of sewing each edge with a neatly folded seam. She then used two hooks and eyes and fastened them into place with more thread.
Taking a deep breath she gave Mycroft his tie. He put it around his neck and fastened the hooks and eyes very easily, even without a mirror, beaming at her and professing his thanks. "Best of all, when you know the evening is at an end, you can pull the tie undone, but remember to leave it hanging behind your collar or they may see our little secret. Also, make sure it is the right way up!" She winked at him.
"Thank you so very much Elle" Mycroft beamed again as he stood up, kissed Elle on the cheek and headed upstairs, reappearing later, back in the shirt and tie and suit he had been wearing, saying his bow-tie and shirt had been carefully packed in his luggage, thrilled with Elle's clever problem solving solution. More cups of coffee were poured and they sat in the kitchen until a car was heard pulling into the stony drive and they all went out to see Mycroft leave in a limousine bound for Buckinghamshire and Chequers.
"What was all the hilarity about when you and Mycroft were upstairs?" asked Sherlock when the six remaining had settled in the lounge. He had obviously reached the point where he could no longer stand not knowing.
"I was trying to teach Mycroft how to tie it himself and he kept managing to tie himself or me into the bow, but never getting close to being able to tie it correctly."
"How come you know how to tie one?" asked Mary.
"My Dad initially taught me. He was Navy so knew lots of different knots and hitches. I got the role as 'Jeeves' in a P G Wodehouse play when at Girls' School as I knew how to tie one. I was rubbish at acting but the only girl who could tie a bow-tie and had to help my friend Vivienne, she could act - playing 'Bertie Wooster' on with her tie as part of the play. Then later when I worked for a construction company we were all invited to a dinner/dance to celebrate the topping out of a major building we worked on and all the guys hired dress suits and hardly any of them could tie the bow-tie. I finished up doing about thirty in one evening - as they all showered and dressed on site as there was not time to go home to come back, so I really got the knack of standing behind someone to do it."
"It was all very clever" said Will admiringly. "What was all that with the pen?"
"It enabled me to get the scissors down the tie without risking cutting his shirt, leaving a little length for my seaming, but more importantly, it means - as you saw - Mycroft will be able to fasten the tie without pulling it open. I just needed something that would leave a small amount of wriggle space without it hanging too loose once fastened."
"Genius" finished Will.
The friends were sitting in the lounge, whilst Debbie put her washing machine on, talking with her husband. John leaned forward whispering "Did you realise we could hear the pair of you banging away last night?" It was the first time there had been just the four of them today. Sherlock paused, inwardly beaming, knowing the spare was the room furthest from his... Outside the sky was getting steadily darker. There was a short, very sharp shower which lasted only minutes but soaked everywhere leaving puddles on the drive. It had not been the downpour the weatherman had reported was expected for the afternoon. At least they appeared to have been spared that.
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