Greg Lestrade was a man who had seen it all. Working as the personal assistant to one of the most powerful women gave him enough experience and knowledge. But what he was witnessing right now, was something he thought to be impossible. It was the sight of Miss Adler being stressed and frantically pacing in her office.
Greg worked for the MI6. It was one of the most secret organizations which made sure that the world functioned orderly, no matter what the cost. He had been in the office for seven years and had worked under three bosses. He had no doubt that Miss Adler was the best of the three, despite the fact that her predecessors were both men. She had a pretty face and dressed always fashionably. It gave her an air of being a sweet damsel. But appearances was surely deceptive as she had a cunning intelligence and immense courage behind that pretty face that had kept her in the current post she occupied without being scared away or assassinated. They had been faced with many a terrible situations, on the face of which she had remained calm. But seeing her unsettled made him aware that something was very wrong. He was in the process was contemplating various scenarios and theories, when Miss Adler called for him. He immediately got up, straightened his grey suit and made his way into her office. She was currently sitting behind her desk, her lovely face creased in a frown. She looked up when he entered and indicated that he should take a seat.
"Connect me to agent Holmes" she said with a grave expression.
Well the day was full of surprises. He was shocked to hear the name of the former agent. Holmes had retired and got into politics five years ago. The organization was sad to see him go, as he had been the best they had. He was only agent who had completed all his missions, no failure. His only drawback: legwork. Apart from that, he had been a perfect agent. If they required the services of Holmes, then the situation must be very bad. He kept these thoughts to himself and followed Miss Adler's command. He touched the desk's corner with his index finger. MI6 had forgone desktop computers or even laptops and tablets long back. The government made sure that they had immense funding and their engineers knew how to use the finance. All the offices were equipped with touch sensitive desks. After recognizing his fingerprint the desk glowed to life, and a screen appeared on its surface. He immediately began to search for the agent with practiced ease and soon had his contact details. He immediately connected Miss Adler to agent Holmes's private number, available only to a select few.
"Miss Adler" came the voice after a few rings.
His boss smiled, impressed by the ability of the speaker to know his caller even though the number was withheld.
"Holmes" she answered. "I hope that you already know the reason for me contacting you."
"Oh! Yes I do. But I do not think I could be of any help to you. My plate is quite full right now with the impending war." He said in an emotionless tone.
"Thousands of life are at stake" Miss Adler cried.
"I am very well aware of that fact. But like I stated earlier I cannot embrace my former life. You are wasting both of our time." He said with finality.
"Mycroft" she said in a tone laced with a sense of urgency. "We need to act immediately as time is of essence. Only our best agent can handle the situation. I want you to accept the mission."
Mycroft was silent on the other end. After what seemed like hours, but was only seconds he answered.
"My answer is the same, Miss Adler. I cannot accept the mission." She bowed her head dejectedly and was about to cut the call when he added "However I can suggest someone quite capable of handling such situations."
She immediately perked up.
"I'm listening."
/-/-/-/
Sherlock was lying on the couch wearing a maroon dressing gown, when Mrs. Hudson came into the flat with tea and biscuits.
"Oh! Sherlock the mess you've made." She said in her motherly voice looking around the flat in distaste. She placed the tray on the coffee table and went around cleaning the place. Sherlock sat up and poured himself a cup of tea. He looked around the place and was unimpressed. Yes, the place looked like a mini tornado affected zone but it was functional. Seriously, why do these people complain? He had been bored, so he had performed a particularly complex chemical analysis. There might have a few tiny explosions, but that was it.
John had gone on an absurdly long vacation to Greece with Mary (two weeks!) and there was no case to keep him occupied. Twice he had to stop himself from falling for cocaine just to escape the tediousness of the normal boring life. If the situation continued he would relapse. The probability was quite strong. He finished his tea and got up to place it in the sink. Mrs. Hudson kept on chattering about something and finally went downstairs along with the tray. He went to the window and indulged in his favorite pass time, deducing random people. While he was at it, he saw a black BMW stop right in front of their building. A man, dressed in a fine grey suit got out and made his way into the building.
A client! Finally! He thought gleefully. He had just settled himself in his chair, when the man came in.
"Sit down" Sherlock said showing him the couch. The guy looked around the flat curiously and with the same questioning glance looked at him.
Hmmm... Has come under the suggestion of someone, probably a client, Sherlock deduced.
"My name is Greg Lestrade and I work" the man was saying.
"Work for the MI6" Sherlock completed for him. It was an easy deduction. Sherlock had read it from his left thumb and his shoelace.The man smiled instead of being shocked like the others.
However he became serious instantly. "Yes, sir. I work for the MI6. My boss wants to meet you about a" he paused, searching for the word. "A delicate matter." He said finally.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. The cases from such organizations were usually dull, dull and dull. Though he had never taken a case from MI6, he had enough experience. So much for hoping for a case. He was about to tell Lestrade to show himself out, when his phone buzzed with a text. He pulled his phone from his pocket and saw that it was from his annoying brother.
Go with him. It won't be boring.
-MH
Well this could be interesting. If Mycroft was vouching for it then the matter must be serious.
"Fine, I'll meet your boss. Just give me a moment to dress." He said and went into his bedroom.
Greg immediately took out his mini tablet to send a message to his boss.
/-/-/-/
On receiving the message from her personal assistant, Miss Adler sighed in relief for the first time in the last two days.
AN: What do you think? ;)