"Well this is great." Athena muttered, running a hand through her long black hair. "Sussex. Couldn't be better."
"I'm sure your parents won't do anything to your sister, after all she did fake her death at one point. I don't think they would like to go through all that again." Mycroft said, closed the file he had been absent-mindedly flipping through and looked at Athena.
"Yes and then they will host a tea party with chocolate cake and get me and Irene two pink ponies." Athena snapped. "No, they will most likely threaten her with voluntary work in a third-world country for two years."
"Well that's not a very bad thing, is it?"
"For her it's like the plague. You know how much she loves her luxurious lifestyle. She might actually kill herself there." Athena said and took out her phone. "When can I visit her."
Mycroft opened the file, "The visiting hours are from one to eight starting tomorrow. You would make it in time if you leave tonight. You can have the sheet." he informed, handing the necessary paper to Athena.
"No thanks," she said, typing away the numbers. "My phone will do just fine"
"All right then," Mycroft slipped the paper back into the folder and stood up. "Remember our little... argument?" He asked, walking to the bookshelf that stood near the wall.
"How could I bloody forget, I bet 300 pounds on my statement." Athena stood up as well, curious about what Mycroft might have to say.
"Well, I came here yesterday, hoping to find some things that would confirm my statement and I found this," he said, pulling out a book from the bookshelf and showing Athena the first page.
Athena read the handwritten sentence and burst out laughing. "So you were right. Oh my god, Sherlock wanted to be a pirate. This is brilliant!" She giggled, "you will get the money tonight."
Right when she finished her sentence, the detective opened the door and walked in, fuming. "Why on earth would you bet three hundred pounds on my silly childhood dream?" He hissed, snatching the book from Mycrofts hands and placing it back on the bookshelf.
"Well you must admit it's kind of funny." Athena said, still trying to contain her laughter.
Sherlock only glared at her.
–
"How long will it take?" Sherlock asked, leaning on the doorframe of 221C. Athena was unpacking some of the boxes to find clothes for her short trip.
"Not long, I still have two cases you need to solve." She said and placed some neatly folded clothes and small boxes in her navy blue suitcase.
"Mind telling me what these cases are? You don't need to bother with all the secrecy."
"All in good time. You may as well solve some other cases while I'm gone. I'm sure you have plenty of people who want you to solve their mysteries," Athena smiled and tossed a dagger in the bag. She then closed the suitcase and took it in her hand. "Expect me back by next tuesday and try not to go too far with your experimenting. I don't want to return to a bonfire instead of a flat."
"And you try not to piss off your parents, I want you back alive. Your cases sound intriguing."
"Will do."
–
"Well, what do you see?" Lestrade asked, looking at Sherlock who was crouched over a dead woman, inspecting every angle of her.
"It's an usual suicide. She took a handful of pills and welcomed death, nothing interesting." Sherlock said, stood up, pulled the white rubber gloves off and left the room without another word.
"Some respect would be nice, though." John commented, walking out of the dead woman's flat after Sherlock.
"What good will that do to her? She is dead and there's nothing I can do about it." They walked down the stairs and headed for the main road.
"It's called being polite, ever heard of it?" They reached the road and Sherlock raised a hand to hail a taxi.
Sherlock just shrugged in response and opened the door of the cab that had just rolled in front of them.
"Didn't think so." John sighed and got in after Sherlock.
"Baker Street." Sherlock told the cabbie and leaned back in his seat.
"She has been gone for two weeks," John began. "Why do you think she's taking so long?"
"Athena's fathers are not the usual loving parents. Yes, they do care about their daughters, but they're very strict and demanding. Even now, when both Irene and Athena are adults, they tend to control them in ways the women can't even understand themselves." Sherlock explained, keeping his voice low. He didn't really trust cabbies anymore.
"So they are the reason?"
"They are a part of it. She texted me a week ago saying she had to assist with the kidnappers and it would take some time. She helped the local police when she was younger so they still ask for her help." Sherlock explained, trying to keep his voice calm while his fingers were drumming against his thigh and his right leg was bouncing with anticipation.
"Baker Street." the cabbie finally announced, turning to the familiar street.
"Good, she is here." Sherlock said, more to himself than John, and leaned forward in his seat, ready to open the door.
"Thank you very much," John muttered, giving the driver the necessary money after Sherlock had dashed out as soon as the cab stopped in front of Speedy's.
Athena sat on a black plastic chair under the table, cleaning her combat boots when Sherlock arrived, nearly knocking the door off it's hinges.
"Oh my god, Sherlock! Were you raised by bloody pigs?" Athena shouted, throwing her boot at him. She missed the target by an inch.
"No. Can I get the case now, you did promise to give it to me when you arrived." Sherlock informed, kicking the shoe back to Athena, who ignored it.
"I swear Sherlock, if you didn't have the body of a man I would place you in kindergarten where you belong." She growled,
"I don't understand."
"Yeah, I thought you wouldn't. All right, I will give you the case after I have cleaned myself up." She said, standing up and turning her back to Sherlock, so he could see the bleeding scar that started on her neck and ended somewhere under her shirt.
"You walked through London with a scar like that?" John said, letting the two know he had arrived.
"Oh no, I drove my bike, it's much better. Marcus, on the other hand, walked." She said, pointing at the bathroom door, it was the only room that was fully completed.
Right when she finished her sentence, a young man, possibly in his twenties, walked out of the small room, nursing a massive bruise on his left arm. It looked like someone had dragged an extra sharp sword from his shoulder to his wrist. It wasn't a pretty view, as blood was still dripping out of it.
"Hi, nice to meet you." He said, nodding at Sherlock and John. The latter also got a small wink.
"Er, lovely to meet you too. Have you seen a doctor yet?" John asked, confused and concerned – why did he get a wink?
"We arrived to London an hour ago, do you really think we had time to go to a hospital?" Marcus winced, wiping the blood away with a small towel.
"Well you've come to a right place, I'm a doctor, would you let me check your wounds for infections?"
"Yeah, sure." Marcus sat down on the chair that Athena had occupied earlier and let John clean the wound and patch it together.
Athena watched them for a few seconds, before she noticed Sherlock's absence. That's why it was so calm down there, she thought to herself while climbing the stairs up to Sherlock's flat.
"Hey, Sherl, you here?" She asked, not expecting to hear a response, so she walked inside and found Sherlock sitting behind the kitchen table, furiously googling something.
"Do you, by any chance, speak japanese?" he asked, raising his eyes from the computer screen to look at Athena.
"Yeah, I do actually. What of it?"
Sherlock grinned and shut the laptop, "Brilliant! Go get your coat, you need to come with me."