CHAPTER 2. INTERRUPTED
By two pm John, already received several random texts, some very concerning texts. Kicking off with one at 6:30 am.
"Tea John."-SH
"Sherlock get it yourself I'm in Dublin."-JW
"Oh, that's right you and your blasted medical conference. I'm bored!"-SH
"Well you can always clean the flat."-JW
"Dull."-SH
"John, when will you be back? I'm bored."-SH "Called Lestrade, he's not a morning person at all."-SH
"Sherlock! Leave Greg alone. And did you take your vitamin."-JW
"I hate vitamins. They are uninteresting."-SH
"I don't care if they are uninteresting. Either you eat three meals a day or take the damn vitamin. If I return and find you haven't then I will force a feeding tube down your throat. You know I can do it."-JW
"Are they training you on your bedside manner at this medical conference?"-SH
"Sherlock, piss off. I 'm busy."-JW
"John. You're not much of a morning person either."-SH
The good Doctor, shook his head and went on the hunt for some nice English Tea. Knowing the word bored, coming from a certain dark haired detective, was never a good thing. Especially when home alone with no adult supervision in sight, definitely not an ideal situation. John received several more texts by noon, following the same pattern.
The most disturbing texts came during the conference, when John from experience knew to turn his mobile off. When he reactivated his mobile these texts are what greeted him;
"Where did you hide the blow torch, John?"-SH
"Never mind I found it."-SH
"Do we have a fire extinguisher?"-SH
"Never mind, Mrs. Hudson had one."-SH
"We are going to need new curtains. And can I ask you, just how attached are you to your comforter?"-SH
"I think you will agree with me when I say it's well over due for a new comforter. You're welcome."-SH
That's when John decided a nice walk would be good. Not having the opportunity these last three days to really see Dublin, John decided on some aimless sightseeing. He would be returning to London tonight, hopefully to a flat that hadn't been burnt to the ground or infested with plague. So intent on enjoying the day and ignoring his troublesome flatmate, John hadn't noticed the expensive black car that followed him two blocks, finally blocking his way as he tried to cross the street. John threw his hands up in surrender.
"Just three days, just three bloody days. That's all I needed. For work. This isn't even a holiday!" He grumbled. The door opened and John sighed knowing the routine, but to his surprise it was Mycroft and not the usually stoic brunette.
"John. Hello. Sherlock mentioned you were in town."
"Yes on a medical conference. But you already know that. What's this about Mycroft?"
"Actually it's a social call. I thought you might want to join me for lunch? I'm heading to our country estate. There is a nice exclusive Inn that has an excellent selection to please any pallet. And after I'm sure you'll find a relaxing walk on the family estate's private grounds to your liking. My business is nearly concluded here, I will insist on you escorting me back to London, I'm sure you'll like the private Jet more accommodating than second class on a crowded aircraft. Please John, get in, so we can stop impeding traffic."
"What's the catch?" Johns eyes narrowed, he remained on the street. Mycroft laughed now, it was a light posh laugh one that told you nothing.
"John, really. My brother has made you so cynical." Mycroft sighed; he was picking imaginary lint from his tie now, his umbrella securely at his side. "I've been quite busy these last few weeks. And I wouldn't mind catching up. Besides I rather missed our weekly lunch ins."
John felt like an ass, dammit these Holmes brothers knew how to put on the guilt. It was true, before Sherlock returned from the dead, Mycroft insisted on weekly kidnappings, always an invite to dinner or lunch. John had grown accustomed to these kidnappings and after a month stopped fighting them. He even began to call and arrange a time with Mycroft.
"Sorry Mycroft. I just didn't get enough sleep. I would love to join you for lunch."
John climbed into the back seat of the black unmarked government car. As they started to roll down the street Mycroft smiled easily.
"Good. Now you can tell me about this business with the-" he took out his mobile phone touched the screen and continued "Ginger midgets?"
"They prefer little people-" John corrected trying to buy some time. "And it's a long story."
"Well, seeing how the country estate is more than a light jaunt. You can fill me in." Dammit there it was, John should have known better. Just then he received a text.
"Oh, Mycroft is in Dublin. If he kidnaps you don't tell him about the Ginger midgets."-SH
"Actually John its best to avoid him all together. Under no circumstances do you get in the car with him."-SH
"You're already in the car aren't you?"-SH
"Yup."-JW
Mycroft's phone vibrated he looked down at the incoming text rolling his eyes and not bothering to reply only to receive several more inbox alerts. John at this point had to chuckle having been on the receiving end of similar unrelenting texts all day.
"Mycroft tell me about the estate? I didn't know your family had property –"
"Doctor Watson, as much as I would love to describe the history of our family lineage and all the properties passed down through the centuries. I do believe I asked you a question earlier." John shot a quick text to Sherlock.
"Sorry I tried."-JW
John tried to think of a way to explain the case of the missing scientists, two brothers, red headed and yes they were four foot tall. Things didn't go exactly as the consulting detective had planned, but what ever did. John hadn't entered that blog yet, because he was still working it out in his head, to much confidential information to skip over.
Of course Mycroft would be interested because the two brothers had worked at on of his or rather the government's very secret military bases. The two brothers had a sister, five foot six( if any one wondered) and she reported them missing it was all very upsetting and with the reputation of the great Sherlock Holmes she hoped he could shed light on her missing brothers. The base director happened to be a fan of Sherlock and allowed him access only to the missing scientists' office and laboratory, as well as a quick interview of the usual colleagues. The director was interested in what had become of the two men that had worked so tirelessly on various confidential projects. He soon regretted his cooperation.
John winced now thinking about the events that lead to a solved case, granted Sherlock could have handled a little more delicately considering all the political officials involved. Most likely, John guessed in hindsight people traveling in Mycroft's social circles. So John smiled evenly, more like a grimace and asked Mycroft
"What would you like to know? It was pretty open shut. Nothing to um interesting." He leaned back in his seat sliding as close to the door as possible. "damn you Sherlock." John fumed, he had told him to ask for the help of the older Holmes brother but that stubborn git refused, instead he went off and embarrassed a few high ranking officers. Maybe even a duke.
The Doctor concentrated on the scenery passing them by, four cars all together, two up front and one behind them, the usual security procedures. John wondered if the PA was in one of the other cars, and if Mycroft was texting for more details that he already knew on a case that he wanted John to talk about. Road crews were clearing away cars from a traffic accident and they soon left the busy city behind them.
"At the beginning would be the usual start Doctor Watson." Mycroft's voice was cool and John knew the tone meant he wouldn't accept anymore attempts at avoiding the subject.
John started at the beginning and hadn't reached the part where Sherlock called the Duke a slow-witted moose, yet. His phone buzzed he looked down his mobile flashing a loss of signal alert. He moved to place his phone in his jacket pocket when the familiar sound roared up, angry, violent, and instinct took over. John new this sound, committed it to memory, he'd often been haunted by the sound in his nightmares.
"IED!" he felt the earth shake beneath the tires of their vehicle, the car jolted and sped up, John looked over at a stunned Mycroft, the usually cool government servant was looking at his phone. John instinctively reached over and pulled a seat belt over the taller man's shoulder. Mycroft threw him an odd look clutching his umbrella and his phone, than another explosion, and John remembered the twisting and tumbling, the smoke and the dirt.