Chapter 11

The first encounter with the British Government (Part. 2)

Mycroft followed the trail of Alice's blood, only stopping when he reached the door of the ladies' room. He couldn't stop staring at the red drops on the floor, even though the sight made him nauseous. He used his handkerchief to avoid touching the stained knob and entered, locking the door behind him.

He found Alice hunched over the counter, trying to get a closer look at her bloodied face in the mirror. She jumped when the door opened, but resumed the inspection of her reflection when she saw it was him.

Mycroft watched as she grabbed more paper towels to stop the blood dripping from her nose and mouth, the ones in her hand already soaked and useless. She tipped her head back to stop the bleeding.

"I wouldn't do that. The blood will drain down your throat and you might vomit."

"Been in many fights, Mr. Mycroft?" Alice lowered her head, muffling her voice in the paper towels.

"No, but the opportunity to play nurse arises regularly when your brother makes a habit of interfering in other people's affairs."

"That sounds nice."

Mycroft sent a quick text to his bodyguard. "I'm sorry?"

"Having a brother sounds nice. Having someone that cares enough to look after you."

Mycroft heard Rufus knock. "That's usually a parent's job," he said as he moved to open the door. His bodyguard handed him a glass of ice, which he placed carefully next to the sink.

"I wouldn't know," Alice murmured.

Mycroft rocked back on his heels.

"I think the bleeding stopped." Alice's soft voice cut through his thoughts. She made to leave.

Mycroft extended his umbrella, blocking her way out. He looked pointedly at her swollen nose.

"It's not broken," she said. "My lip caught in my braces, which is why there's so much blood." She raised her chin defiantly.

There were new bruises forming on her slender neck where Moriarty had wrapped his right hand while his left pulled at her hair, based on the disarray of her inky locks.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. "Are you having trouble breathing or swallowing?"

"No." She winced when she shook her head, but her voice wasn't raspy or scratchy.

He motioned towards the sink with his umbrella. "You should put some ice on that." He watched her yank a hand towel from the rack and empty the glass's contents in it with a scowl that reminded him of a chastised Sherlock. "What happened?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You know what happened." She said held the makeshift icepack to her neck.

"I wouldn't mind hearing your version."

"It was an accident. I only wanted to stop Ernesto from harassing a waitress and things got a bit out of control. He directed his rage towards me, and I had no other option but to diffuse the situation."

Mycroft almost admired her attempt to make her answer sound detached and professional. She still needed some practice, but he was confident she would be able to lie like a proper politician before the end of the year. "How did your employer take this? I believe it would reflect badly on Mr. Moriarty if you hurt one of his business partners."

"If Mr. Castillo is a real businessman, he'll know better than mix sentiment with business. As for his relation to Jim, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"So you don't deny he is your employer."

"No. I am Jim's personal assistant. I remind him of his meetings and pick up his dry cleaning. If you want an appointment I am sure I can squeeze you in-"

Mycroft snorted. "He certainly has you well-trained." He wasn't usually looking for new talent, but he saw potential in the girl– and he was sure Moriarty did too, he wouldn't keep her so close if he didn't. Her future in the intelligence world could be easily arranged. He could make of her a long-term investment. He could even see her as his second Anthea in a few years. "Why do you work for Mr. Moriarty?"

"It's a good work environment."

Mycroft narrowed his eyes, but his train of thought was interrupted by a loud ringtone. Alice lowered the towel from her neck and answered her phone. It was brief and the caller did all the talking. Alice listened with a neutral expression.

"I take it Moriarty is angry," Mycroft said dryly

She lowered the phone. "More like irritated. He had to leave a poker game to mitigate the situation. I ruined his winning strike."

"Are you in trouble?" He smirked. Convincing her to abandon Moriarty and leave the party with him shouldn't be too hard. She was smart– she would recognize a better offer when presented.

"Of course. I have extra work to do to make up for this mess." She smiled.

"You look a bit too happy to be in trouble." Mycroft said, eyes narrow.

"Because it's exciting," Alice said.

"I beg your pardon?" Mycroft felt the air rush out of his lungs. He felt like he was talking to his young brother again. He blinked to dispel the image, but the similarity was more than remarkable, it was like looking at a young Sherlock all over again.

She shrugged. "I thought this party would be boring, but it turned out to be quite fun. I got to punch someone and then his brother came to punch me back. It was a quite the night," she said with a satisfied grin.

Mycroft would have found her joy less disturbing if her teeth were not tainted red, making her smile look out of place in a child. Out of place in little Sherlock's face.

"You've gone a bit pale." She smirked.

"Your teeth are stained," he said stiffly. He clenched his hands into fists. There was no reasonable explanation for this. Something like that would have not gone unnoticed. He knew Sherlock inside and out and this was impossible.

"I must be going, Mr. Mycroft." She waited for him to step away from the door. "I hope to see you again, hopefully in better circumstances."

He stepped slowly to the side. "Alice-"

"Puppy!"

Mycroft glared. Whatever limited chance he'd had to convince Alice to change allegiances evaporated as the consulting criminal opened the door.

"Hurry up, puppy. We have places to be." Moriarty waited until she was close enough to grab her chin to assess her face, moving her head for a better view of her nose "See? It wasn't so bad. I told you he hits like a sissy." He purposely turned to catch Mycroft's gaze before letting go of her, his hand returning to his pocket.

"Go wait outside with Seb. Daddy needs to have a talk with Mr. Holmes," Moriarty noticed the brief look she sent Mycroft's way before closing the door firmly behind her and locking it with a sharp twist of his wrist. The click echoed over the chiming of the hanging glass lamps.

Mycroft stood rigid with his jacket draped over his arm, his umbrella in a firm grip with his thumb over the secret mechanism's lever. Moriarty stood before the only exit, both hands in his pockets, feigning relaxation.

"I see you had time to play with my puppy." His mocking tone suddenly turned serious and cold. "Did she come to you for that?"

"No." Mycroft answered only to spare Alice the trouble she would face if the criminal assumed otherwise.

"I read that puppies need to explore to grow. So I let Alice walk around with a very long leash, but maybe I should have her better trained before letting her wander into certain circles. Who knows who might be lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to snatch her from her master."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

"I wonder, did you consider trying to convince her to leave with you?" Moriarty caught the slight tightening of Mycroft's hand. "You did!"

Mycroft decided he had tolerated enough. He took three long steps towards the exit, expecting his imposing height and glare to be enough to convince the shorter man to move.

But Moriarty's smirk only grew. "I don't mean to gloat, but then again- I do. She plans the best coups I've seen in years. She's still shy about planning a murder, but she'll come around. Good thing I found her when I did or she would be still planning petty bank robberies. Boring!" He cackled, then whispered, "Or worse, she could be wasting her precious brain working for the government."

Mycroft felt his blood pressure rise. He knew Alice was smart, but now he was seeing just how valuable she was to Moriarty.

"I hope you're happy with your attempt to take her for yourself, because this was your only chance."

Mycroft's chin went up as he tried to keep his expression detached and neutral. He was used to getting his way, there were very few things out of reach for a man like him.

"It's okay, you don't need to say anything. That look right there is all I need." Moriarty's devilish smirk faded suddenly and he tilted his head, letting out a loud moan that would have made lesser men blush. "Your envy is better than sex, Mycroft."

Mycroft felt the need to tap the floor with the metal tip of his umbrella but resisted. He would not sink to such childish displays of irritation.

Moriarty removed a dust particle from his suit's lapel before looking back at Mycroft with a bored expression. "I think it's time to address the elephant in the room, Mr. Holmes."

Mycroft narrowed his eyes.

"Alice reminds you of a certain someone, doesn't she?"

"Where did you find her?" Mycroft said. She had a subtle accent, but he couldn't identify its origin.

"I think that stained handkerchief in your pocket has all the information you need to satisfy your curiosity." Moriarty smirked and turned to leave, stopping at the threshold to flick off the lights.

/

Mycroft woke up violently, his breathing coming in sharp gasps and his hands trembling. As soon as he recovered, he jumped from his bed and reached his closet in six long strides. He opened his safe and looked for the file in the very back. He moved towards the closest source of light and opened the black folder, the genetic profile that came from that blood-stained handkerchief. He'd never compared it to his own.

He had preferred to simply forget Moriarty's victory over him. Because if he lost a complete stranger to Moriarty, he could move on with his life, but if that girl was family, he would never forgive himself. He'd thought the existence of an unknown Holmes highly unlikely– practically impossible. But the situation had changed. He knew Sherlock had fathered a child, a girl. He discovered it last year when they were testing the H.O.L.M.E.S. project and the system alerted him of a match in the Interpol database.

He closed the black folder and grabbed his phone. He needed to be absolutely sure Alice was the girl he was looking for.

Thank you for your reviews, favs and follows! Sorry to keep you waiting, I'm struggling to write because I just want to reach the good stuff and I keep staring at a blank word doc for an hour a day imagining the exciting scenes that come after.

Oh! as you noticed the answer to "why did they call the French police?" is not in this chapter, I promise is in the next one.

joycelyn. : Hi! I looove your reviews. You are absolutely right, Holmeses are drama queens and honey you should see her in a crown. I like your idea of an overdose, it's plausible in the long run, but there are others options closer. For example, have you considered that most Moriarty's 'associates' end up dead?