Chapter 10

7 September 2013 21:00pm

Sherlock resurfaces from his mind palace to the smell of Chinese food wafting through the flat from the kitchen. He blearily looks around to locate the smell. He rubs his eyes feeling tired, withdrawn and bone weary. He keeps his eyes closed as grimaces and pulls himself to his feet. 'Oh he's back.' Irene's voice penetrates the fog of his brain.

'But does he want some food?' Donovan's voice joins Irene's. Sherlock opens his eyes and looks over at the two women eating from takeout containers. Sherlock weaves his way towards the kitchen and the food. He slumps down on the seat next to Irene and bangs his head on the table.

'Anything useful in that hard drive of a brain?' She asks nudging him. Sherlock shakes his head.

'Something I thought never happens. Sherlock Holmes admitting defeat.' Donovan comments sarcastically. He raises his head and glares at her.

'I'm not admitting defeat-'

'Right yeah course I believe you.'

'I just can't think straight.' Sherlock carries on, as she has never interrupted. 'Why Uncle David? Why couldn't have it been someone else? It would have been easier.'

'You're too emotional Sherlock.' Donovan remarks as Irene rubs his back.

'Too right I'm emotional,' he snaps at her. 'The only person in the world not blood related who actually thought that I was a unique child and that the talents should be nurtured. So yeah, sorry for feeling emotional.' Sherlock stands abruptly and storms to his room. At the door he turns to look at the two women. 'I would have though you wanted be to be more human.' As he speaks the word "human" he makes quotation marks with his finger in the air. He turns back and slams the door to his room. Irene cringes.

'He's got a point Sergeant Donovan.' Irene speaks uncharacteristically quietly and smoothly. 'You taunt him for compartmentalising his emotions at crime scenes then imply that he's being for too emotional when I guess one of the few people who actually liked him as a child is hurt.'

'But the Commissioner wasn't hurt.'

'Not physically but he was mentally. It was his nephew who was killed.' Donovan nods. 'That death hurt Commissioner Parker. Sherlock's hurting because Parker's hurting.' Irene stands and walks to the fridge. 'I thought you wanted to have him more human.'

'Not if it means he's breaking down.' Donovan sighs. 'Do you think he's listening?'

'Very probably.' Irene turns away from the open fridge and looks at Sergeant Donovan. 'Why?'

'I'm really going to regret saying this.' Irene closes the fridge and leans against it.

'I only taunt him to hide my jealousy.'

'Jealousy at what?' Irene strings it out

'You're going to make me say it aren't you?'

'Yep.' Donovan groans and Irene's smile grows

'My jealousy at his talents, at the fact he can make the connections that elude us, that he can get places and information we can't, and that he doesn't get bogged down in all that paperwork.' She glares at Irene's smiling face. 'If he was, I don't know, a little easier to talk to at times.'

'Like when he isn't on a case.'

'Exactly. And, maybe, if he stops insulting our intelligence every time we met.'

'Maybe you should cut down on calling him a freak.'

'But he acts like one.'

'He was home-schooled for eight years, went into boarding school and was bullied constantly because he hadn't been able to learn the necessary social skills being kept home and not allowed to play with other kids. None being nearby.' Irene snorts in amusement. 'You think he's eccentric you should meet his parents. Compared to them, he's positively normal.'

'How do you know them?'

'Mutual friends I was invited to this dance. Completely boring but I introduced to them by my escort and they livened up the evening for me.' The two of them gravitate towards the sitting room and turn on the television.

After they had watched the TV for an hour and a half or so Sherlock remerges from his room and joins them. He shoos Irene out of his chair and slumps in it himself. Sensing an opportunity Irene folds herself into his lap. He wraps his arms around her and she snuggles into him. Donovan raises an eyebrow. Sherlock ignores her but Irene smiles winningly. 'Any luck?' she whispers into his chest.

'No.' He mutters back.

'There's some Chinese in the fridge if you want some.' Irene feels Sherlock nod against the back of her head. She bats his hands open and climbs off him.

'He can get it himself.' Donovan protests. Irene shrugs and walks into the kitchen and retrieves the plate she had made up for him.

'Is there anything in the microwave?' She calls through remembering the warning John had given her.

'No.' Sherlock replies. A couple of minutes later Irene hands Sherlock a warm plate piled high with Chinese food and a fork. Irene settles into John's chair and watches as Sherlock digs in and virtually demolishes the entire plateful.

'Hungry?' she asks him humorously. He nods

'I should argue with you more often.' The three of them hear a car pull up in the street outside. Irene rises and moves to the window.

'John and Greg seem to be rather merry.' She comments watching as Mycroft lifts John's key from his pocket and guides them into the flat. They burst into the flat laughing riotously. They manage to pull themselves together but Lestrade catches sight of Sherlock and starts laughing again. John manages not to laugh, preferring to execute a jaw-breaking yawn instead. The two of them collapse onto the sofa next to Donovan. Mycroft lowers himself into John's chair.

'I don't know what's got them into this state.'

'Believe it or not, we're not drunk.' Lestrade finally manages to control his mirth. The Brothers Holmes both snort in disbelief. 'We're not.' He protests.

'We shared a bottle and a half of a rather fine Barbera vintage from the middle of Italy.' John comments looking covertly at Mycroft, who watches at him out of the corner of his eye. John grins. 'I think he knows what we're on about.' He mutters to Lestrade.

'Yeah I think so to.' Lestrade goes to stand up.

'Oughtn't you stay here in case of a break though?' Mycroft asks him.

'Fair point.'

'Mycroft I don't have the room.'

'Brother, are you being deliberately obtuse?' Sherlock frowns then his expression clears. 'Absolutely.' John heaves himself off the sofa and pulls Lestrade up as well. Together they make their way up the stairs to John's room. Sherlock looks over at Irene then across to Donovan.

'You tow share my room.' Donovan looks hesitant. 'There's nothing to worry you in there Sergeant. Go and get some rest.' Irene smiles and kisses Sherlock on the crown of his head much to his dismay. She heads to the allocated room.

'Come on Sally, there really is nothing to worry about.'

'Fresh clothes?'

'My assistant is bringing fresh clothes for you, Irene and Greg for several nights. Just in case.' Donovan relents and follows Irene to Sherlock's room. Mycroft waits for the door to shut before turning back to Sherlock. 'Uncle David wants a word with both of us privately ASAP. I know it's not about the case and he wants you to have eaten before you get there.' Irene sidles up behind Mycroft. She reaches past him and picks up her phone.

'Forgot my phone. Lockie, dear pass me your plate.' He does. 'He ate all this.' She rotates the plate slightly. She carries it to the kitchen and re-enters the bedroom. Mycroft raises an eyebrow at Sherlock.

'What? I was hungry.' Mycroft rises.

'Come on Uncle David is expecting us.'