Practical Experience
Holmes rarely liked to draw his weapon, yet his pistol had all but sprung to his hand in this instance. He did not fire not for lack of wanting to, but because there was a barrel pressed against his temple before he could.
His sister-in-law had began bleeding, only slightly and with no pain, but of course Mycroft had whisked her off without an ounce of hesitation to the doctor. He did not trust the children at home with only the maids for protection and had asked him to supervise them (with instructions to handle them as little as possible).
The detective had been mulling around his brother's study looking at his newest books, nephew sleeping in his arms, when he heard the sound of the locked door being forced. The maids were in their chambers, they were useless… A burglar trying to enter a lit house? No, this person obviously had a purpose specific to the family.
Holmes took the wicker basket containing files, placed it on the floor, and put his nephew, still sleepily obvious, in it, nudging him under the desk and out of sight before leaving the study. Aesara was still upstairs. They had gotten through the door…
He saw the figure in the hallway and drew his pistol. He felt metal against his skull and he twisted just enough to see his assailant, a fairly young redhead with spectacles and a braid.
"You must be the nanny."
"You must be the brother," she spoke, face matching her hair as she sheathed her pistol.