Two cups, a saucer and a sugar-bowl. That’s all that’s left of the tea-service when they come to do the reckoning. After the shattering and the sweeping up, the wrapping of shards and fragments in layers of newspaper Sellotaped and labelled for the binmen.
There’s been enough damage. No need to cause more by being careless.
It wasn’t Mrs Hudson’s china, which is just as well. A present from a grateful client.
John apologises, afterwards. He keeps offering to replace the broken china, till Sherlock shows him the prices on the maker’s website and he goes faintly green. Almost the same colour as he did when – No.
Some images Sherlock can’t delete from his hard drive. Doesn’t mean he’s going to think about them if he can help it.
He doesn’t let himself wonder if the cups that survived are the ones he and Moriarty drank from that day. He doesn’t let himself think about Moriarty crossing the threshold, or what came in with him.
His black eye’s healing nicely. John apologised for that, too.
Some things are easy to replace, like the test-tubes and petri dishes he’d never expected John would be keeping. The flat’s not much different from how it used to be, really.
It’s going to take a while before they know for sure what else is broken.