Chapter 1
John Watson tried to look poised and dignified, legs crossed and holding his cup of tea just so. But it is rather difficult to be dignified when one's best friend was next to you wearing disgusting pajamas which looked as if it had been used for cleaning up coffee spills for most of its career.
Well, John thought wearily, at least he isn't naked this time.
Mycroft Holmes did not seem to share his sentiments; rather he was sending his younger brother the deadliest of glares. The only two people inside the ornate drawing room who seemed absolutely unperturbed by Sherlock's horrible wardrobe were Sherlock himself and their client, who was in the middle of a rave, trying to present his case as that of utmost importance.
"You simply must take this case, Mr. Holmes," Sir James Damery ranted, traces of the calm and solemn young man that appeared on the papers all but gone, "Lord De Merville has nearly lost his head with worry. Baron Gruner has-"
"Baron Gruner, the Austrian murderer?" Sherlock interrupted, brow furrowing.
"I see you have already formed your conclusions about him, dear brother," Mycroft answered, "The very same, even though he was acquitted for that particular crime."
"How have you gotten mixed up with a man like that?" John asked, feeling a bit lost; neither the Holmes brothers were known for being one for explanations.
"Violet De Merville, the lovely eldest daughter of Lord De Merville, has fallen into that devil's trap. He has the most powerful hold over her, the hold of love."
Both the Holmes' snorted, though Mycroft had the sense of mind to apologize quickly. Sherlock's eyes, which had sparkled when Baron Gruner had been mentioned, dulled instantly.
"What would you like me to do? I cannot be held responsible for what a young lady does and who she falls in love with."
"He is the most dangerous man in London, Mr. Holmes, and she intends to marry him!" Sir James said, looking beseechingly at Sherlock.
"Is he? Well, he must be a worthy adversary, I must say, to be able to hold a title akin to the late Jim Moriarty, the living Sebastian Moran and of course you, Mycroft."
Mycroft rolled his eyes, "Oh God sakes'…Baron Gruner is a collector of women amongst his various criminal accomplishments. He has managed to turn the young lady against her own father; she has decided that any negative word against her fiancé is just plain badmouthing. If she marries him, the only path she will be going down is that of death. He will most certainly kill her, and it might mean ruin for the country if Lord De Merville is lost to despair."
"What do you want Sherlock to do then?" John asked, "Talk to Ms. De Merville?"
"No, she won't listen to her own father; I doubt she would even agree to talk to Mr. Holmes," Sir James said darkly, "We had have reports-"
"We had have reports that Baron Gruner has a little black book in which he lists his various sexual conquests. Much like one collects stamps and coins, he keeps a list of the women he has ruined or blackmailed," Mycroft continued, "But that is the limit to which we can trust our secret service. Your job, dear brother, is to infiltrate Gruner's mansion during a gala he is holding and retrieve the book. It may be the only object that can convince the young lady of his assured guilt."
"What do I get out of this?" Sherlock asked.
"Knighthood, which I could absolutely guarantee-" Sir James started.
"Oh I could get that anytime," Sherlock waved off his answer with a rather infuriating smirk, "No, Mycroft, what I would like is for you to remove your incompetent surveillance crew from Baker Street."
"You spy on your own brother?" Sir James asked while Mycroft's lip curled.
"Fine," Mycroft said, "Then you will take the case?"
"I would be taking down the supposed most dangerous man in London, I believe they'll call that a result. C'mon then John…" Sherlock got up and grabbing his dress robe, making for the door.
Mycroft followed them to their waiting car.
"I'll text you the details, of course," He told his brother, "And I'll be employing my best agent as well. I have a feeling she will be invaluable-"
"Sorry, Mycroft, but I don't need any of your lackeys. Though, I can see John is disappointed…"
"I'm a happily engaged man!" John said indignantly.
"Charming." Mycroft snapped, "And pray tell, how do you entice Baron Gruner into giving you or actually your disguise, into giving you a tour?"
Sherlock paused in his steps suddenly, and John walked headfirst into his back.
"You should have been paying more attention, brother. Baron Gruner is a womanizer. He won't hesitate to picking out his next prey even when his fiancé's in the same room."
"Oh alright then," It was a testament to how bored Sherlock was, John thought, that he would be willing to work with Mycroft's agents if it meant he could have a case.
"Are you sure you don't want to come along as well?" Sherlock asked John as Mycroft's sleek car raced through London, towards the warehouse where they were meeting Mycroft and his agent.
John raked his eyes over his best friend, who was dressed smartly in an Armani suit with a matching black tie over a white shirt. Sherlock had worn a pair of glasses that somewhat served to conceal his eyes, and his hair, instead of being a messy dark mop, had been tamed and parted to the side.
It wasn't much of a disguise, but nobody would, unless they looked really hard and managed to see through Sherlock's brilliant ability of being able to become another person entirely, realize this young man was actually the World's only consulting detective.
"No, I might make Gruner suspicious."
Sherlock snorted.
"Also, you are going with a date, how am I supposed to fit in? I'm happy watching in from the sidelines. Oh, that reminds me, what do you know about Mycroft's agent…?"
"Apart from the fact that she is supposed to be one of his protégés? Nothing whatsoever."
"You are late, Sherlock."
Mycroft's cold voice rang out through the old warehouse as they climbed out of the car. John squinted in the half light to notice Mycroft Holmes standing in front a limousine, cutting a very dramatic figure against the glaring headlights.
"Cordial as always Mycroft. I see you are indulging in your need for the dramatic." Sherlock retorted.
"Well, thank god you are above all that, am I correct, Dr. Watson?-"
"Honestly, sir, we happen to be a rather tight schedule. May we just get on with it?" issued a very familiar voice from the limo.
If John Watson hadn't been busy gaping himself, he would have laughed at the look of utter surprise and disbelief at the look on Sherlock's face. For coming out of the car looking absolutely stunning in a blood red form hugging strapless dress that showed off her pale shoulders to perfection was Molly Hooper.
That saying, John really couldn't find any other connection to this confident Molly who sat across them to the mousy Bart's Molly. That Molly couldn't pull off a dress like that. That Molly couldn't look absolutely gorgeous without second guessing herself.
That Molly couldn't manage a conversation with a very pissed off Sherlock Holmes.
"How long have you been working for him? Before Moriarty? Before you helped me fake my death?"
"Mycroft has been my boss since my dad died. But Sherlock-" Molly glanced at the British government next to her before answering, "I honestly did help you for my own wishes. I work for Mycroft on a freelance basis-"
"How did I miss a glaring obvious fact like that?!" Sherlock hissed angrily.
Molly made to answer but Mycroft interrupted, "You were always a bit dismissive of Ms. Hooper, Sherlock. You barely noticed her until she made the mistake of dallying with Moriarty."
Molly turned an angry red, "You know very well, sir, I only dated him for valuable information which you charged me to dig out."
"That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me when I was staying at you hovel of a home!" Sherlock said indignantly.
"I'm not the world's only consulting detective." Molly snapped.
"I refuse to work with you." Sherlock retorted.
Molly leaned over suddenly, grabbed Sherlock's lapels and smashed their mouths together; her tongue going past his lips easily, as he opened his mouth automatically in surprise.
"The fact that I managed to stop you talking twice in ten minutes, Sherlock," Molly said pulling back and fixing her lip make up, "Says that you sort of have to. Anyway, I'm, without bragging, one of Mycroft's best agents and I was the one who found out about the book, means that I get first pick on this case."
Sherlock remained were Molly had released him, lips painted in lipstick and a look of such utter shock that John couldn't resist pulling out his phone and taking a photo of his dazed expression.
Mycroft chuckled. It was worth some air headed young woman being in the jaws of death just to see that look grace his brother's face.
A/N: This plot has been bugging me for a while. SO I just had to write it down. Update might take a while, depending on the response and how long I take to finish the others. A lot of people had been asking me for a chapter in How to Keep Your Pathologist starring Mycroft. But THIS plot bunny bit me. Hope you all like it!
Thanks for reading and please review!
Adi x