2010, Tony Stark and Sherlock Holmes (II)
There were no such things as unknown callers in Tony's world. No one got into his private lines without him knowing who they were, where they were, and probably why they were calling. He didn't like to be handed things, and he didn't like to answer phone calls that he was unprepared for. It was why Pepper was so wonderful, because she didn't mind things like that. It was just fantastic.
So there was more than a little alarm when Butterfingers dropped his phone into the middle of his workspace, startling him into nearly dropping the very delicate superchip he was trying to embed into one of Pepper's shoes. The chip would make sure that Jarvis would always know where she was, which was a good thing. Because that meant that Tony would always know where she was. It was a good plan, and Butterfingers—and whoever had texted him—had nearly ruined it. The message was from a blocked phone number—something quite remarkable, given Tony's thorough coding of his phone a few months ago to prevent stuff like this happening.
I am Sherlock Holmes, and apparently one of your last living relatives. I have a brother, Mycroft, who is nosy. We have a father we don't speak to and a mother we dote on. Neither of us participate in Christmas, birthdays, national holidays, or graduations. I am a consulting detective. Should you ever need my assistance, I prefer to text. I have no specific desire to ever meet you face to face and this is likely our last communique.
SH
What the living hell. He stared at the message, reading it again a few times, trying to piece together just what he'd been informed of. And why he was informed of it. Petting Butterfingers absently, Tony pushed away from the workspace and went to his computer, quickly tracing the blocked number and thinking. To hell with a text message, "Sherlock Holmes" was going to hear from him whether he liked it or not. It took a few moments, but the British government's encoding system was abysmally easy to crack—although not quite so easy as the NSA, but that was another story entirely. Soon he had all the information he needed.
"Jarvis, I need to suit up. We're going to take Pepper out for dinner."
"Sir, Miss Potts is in the United Kingdom closing the deal with our contact there. Surely you remember?"
"That I do, which is why I need you to find us a nice place to go out for dinner—I'm thinking curry. They eat curry there, Jarvis?"
"Among many other things, yes, Sir."
"Good. There's a little invite list on my computer, please send it to the numbers I've got listed there. Now, suit."
"May I enquire as to the reason for this sudden trip abroad?" Jarvis asked as Tony stood still for the robots to encase the suit around him. He checked his latest palladium reading and decided this trip was worth it—he would catch a ride back on the plane with Pepper.
"Oh, got a little family reunion planned for tonight, the usual. Bye Jarvis."
The earpiece snapped on just quick enough to catch Jarvis' sigh and muttered, "I'm coming with you, you remember."
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