The next morning wasn't quite the happy wakeup as the night before, because I woke up alone in bed. I could tell that Sherlock at least hadn't been gone long, but John's spot was cold which meant he got up earlier, and they both left me to sleep. Which means I was a heavier sleeper than I thought I was. Still, it was a little sad for me and I sighed as I shifted, noticing that I had been tucked in snugly and then I smiled, feeling ridiculously cared for. I stretched, getting up and retrieving clothes from the closet, glad to see that the bathroom was free, taking another shower to wash my hair and everything. I'd even taken to leaving most of my toiletries in the bathroom, finding neat places to tuck them so they'll be out of the way.
When I finally came out and walked down the hallway into the kitchen, it was to find Sherlock sitting at the table, perched over his microscope, no doubt conducting some sort of experiment.
"John has already left for the clinic." Sherlock says before he looks up from his microscope to look me over, briefly seeming confused before he nods. "I suggested to John you might rather be woken up than to wake up alone." he notes thoughtfully before he looks back at his microscope.
"Mind reading again, huh?" I asked, moving over and putting a hand lightly on his shoulder, being careful not to disturb his motions or anything. "Please don't set any fires." I said with a little smile, squeezing his shoulder lightly before letting my fingers trail over his shoulder and along the back of his neck, lightly sliding my hand through the curls at the base of his neck before I moved fully away and looked in the fridge, grabbing out the orange juice and eggs, before I washed one of the pans from the night before, found a bowl, and started to make myself scrambled eggs.
"I think I'm going to go for a walk after breakfast, or.. at least try to." I broached the subject quietly, not sure how Sherlock will feel about it, though John seemed approving. "I saw a park about a block over, I thought I might go. I'll bring my phone, but I wanted to go alone." I clarified so he doesn't think he has to come with me.
Sherlock looks up from his microscope again, I could feel his eyes on my back as I cooked. "Are you sure that's a good idea? You didn't seem comfortable outside yesterday." he says simply as he watches me.
"Yeah. I know. That's why I have to do this. And why I don't plan to go far. I can't be afraid to go out on my own. Especially once you and John start on cases. John will be working at the clinic or out with you, you'll be doing.. cases, or experiments, you won't always be here, and you won't want to hold my hand and go everywhere with me. I need to be able to go out on my own." I insisted, looking over at Sherlock for a few moments before finishing my meal and plating it, sitting with some toast and tea across from Sherlock.
Seeming to be considering for a few moments, Sherlock finally nods a little. "I understand. That's very logical." He pauses as he ducks his head down a little, lifting his eyes back to me. "Your phone should be fully charged. Our numbers are in it. Keep it on." He says in a firm tone, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say he briefly looked worried before returning to his microscope.
Eating done, I washed the dishes in the sink, putting them up to dry before I went and put on shoes and my jacket, grabbing the phone before I moved back to Sherlock. "I'm off now. I've got my phone." Of course, I have no money, though I did grab my wallet. Not that he needs to know that, nor do I expect to need any money. "Um. I don't have a key, remember, so.. let me know if you decide to leave before I get back." I smiled, putting a hand on the back of his neck gently. "Good luck with your experiment." I offered before heading out and down the street toward the park I saw.
Once far enough away, a sleek, black, unmarked car pulled up to the curb, Mycroft Holmes stepping out with his umbrella and a nice three piece suit on, looking around for a few moments before he turned to his assistant. "I'll need Ms. Charles to be absent for a few hours, at least. Like we discussed earlier." He says as he watches Anthea for a moment, looking down at the briefcase he has in his hand, sighing. "I will text you when I am prepared to be picked up." He says quietly before turning to 221B and knocking on the door. Typically, it is not his younger brother that opens the door but Mrs. Hudson, who he smiles at and gives a small nod to. "Mrs. Hudson, is my brother at home?" He asks politely as he steps inside, even though he knows full well that he is.
"Oh, Mycroft, dear. Yes, he's upstairs. John's off to the surgery and that young woman just left, though I don't know where she's going on her own. She shouldn't be out there all by herself yet if you ask me. Poor dear." Mrs. Hudson gushes as she closes the door behind Mycroft. "She's been so good for those two, I haven't heard any arguments from them, and Sherlock was playing the most beautiful music last night.. There haven't even been any midnight serenades. She's been very good for the both of them if you ask me.." She says with a motherly smile and nod of her head. "You go on up, dear, I'll bring some tea up for you two." She says as she pats his arm gently before she bustles off back into her apartment, leaving Mycroft to climb the 17 steps to his brother's flat.
By the time he reached the top of the stairs, Sherlock had lifted his head from the microscope. "Two visits in a week, Mycroft. This is a record, even for you. I'm afraid you won't be able to meet Sofia this time either, she's left." He says casually, though he glowers a little at his brother.
Mycroft pauses in the doorway, and he sighs, "Is it that difficult to believe, brother, that I may be here to see you?" He points out as he watches his brother, then he looks more serious. "Though what I have come to talk to you about does concern Ms. Charles." He considers, and then walks into the living room, sitting down in John's chair, placing the briefcase on his lap.
As planned, the enigmatic statement brings Sherlock out of the kitchen, thankfully at least being dressed in one of his suits so feeling less vulnerable as he walks over and sits down in his leather chair, crossing his legs and folding his hands over his lap. "What is so very important that you couldn't have one of your lackeys send me the information?"
"The information is rather sensitive." Mycroft says as he opens his briefcase and pulls out a folder. "It is in regards to Ms. Charles' kidnappers and why she was kept captive rather than being killed, sold, or otherwise abused." He says solemnly, looking down at the folder in his lap. "I would not recommend ever telling Ms. Charles about this, it would most likely not bode well for her emotional well being." He says as he holds out the folder toward his brother.
Only because it has to do with Sofia is Sherlock even tolerating his brother at this point, but he's worried now, an unfamiliar feeling. Reaching out, he takes the folder and arches an eyebrow as he sees the title on it. "Dollhouse?" He asks with a snort before he opens it, quickly taking in the information about the people who give themselves over to this organization in order to be wiped clean and remade, their bodies used for whatever purposes the clients want, whatever personalities. They are blissfully unaware until the contract is up, and then, if they're lucky, they get their bodies back. But there's no guarantee of that. Sherlock frowns as he reads it over, not quite indignant but thinking that it's a rather stupid thing for a person to agree to unless you're some sort of criminal. But most of those probably don't have the sort of 'perfection' that this Dollhouse wants. But the idea that Sofia was part of this, that her body has been used for who knows what, makes him very angry.
Thankfully, Sherlock has always been good at controlling his feelings, and he slowly closes the folder after taking in all the information. "How do you know Sofia was a part of this?" He asks coldly as he looks at Mycroft.
Another folder is produced from the briefcase. "I don't. However, her kidnappers apparently thought she was." He says as he holds out the information on the criminals, the crime scene, and the machine they were attempting to build. "I have not yet determined if Ms. Charles was in the program, or for how long. Clearly she is no longer in the program or they would not have allowed her kidnapping to happen, or her recovery here. That much we can at least be assured of." he says as he watches his brother.
Sherlock takes the second folder, looking through it with a look of concentration on his face as he takes in all the information. "I'll find the rest of them." he says as he taps the folder, before he looks up at Mycroft. "How long have you known about this?" He demands, thinking about what he and John discussed the other day.
Sighing and folding his hands on top of the briefcase, Mycroft regards his brother, having known it might come down to this. "About the kidnappers? Since yesterday. About the Dollhouse? Just about a year. Since those involved in it are entirely volunteers and sign contracts to prove that, we did not have a reason to interfere. However, we have kept a close eye on them, kept them fenced in and prevented them from expanding their operations. We have an operative inside that keeps us informed." he says casually as he flicks a piece of lint off his suit, before he turns his attention back to his brother.
"I should have Sofia come back. She shouldn't be out alone of these people are after her or people like her." Sherlock says as he gets up swiftly to go find his phone, grabbing it as he comes back into the living room.
"Do stop being so dramatic, brother. My assistant has already retrieved Ms. Charles, to make sure that we had some time alone to talk without unexpected interruptions." Mycroft says in a bored tone, retrieving his Dollhouse file and putting it back into his briefcase.
Sherlock frowns a little, but he looks at his phone, glancing over at his insufferable brother. He's glad he put in Sofia's number this morning and already had it texted to John, opening a new text to send it to Sofia.
Are you alright? -SH
He paced slowly, looking down at his phone, but thankfully he didn't have a long time to wait, and he quickly opened the message.
Yes. Shopping with your brother's assistant. Little bit of revenge. Will tell you more when I get home. -SC
Eyebrows raised, Sherlock couldn't help but chuckle a little as he thought about Anthea shopping with anyone, much less with Sofia, but he felt himself relax. A small thrill even went through him as he noticed that Sofia called 221B 'home'. Suppressing a small smile, he nodded once to himself before he turns to Mycroft, returning to his chair and sitting down, steepling his fingers in front of his face again as he watches his brother. "You will not kidnap Sofia like you do John." he says in a firm tone.
Mycroft tried to find his umbrella fascinating as he looks at the handle. "Considering her history, I would never dream of it." he says in his usual bored tone, looking up at his brother. "You are being so obvious, Sherlock. You are obviously interested in Sofia. She is the first woman you have EVER shown interest in. I am not foolish enough to interfere in your love life." he says evenly, calmly as he regards his brother.
Now Sherlock was annoyed again, glaring at his brother. "That is none of your business." he snaps, slumping down in his seat a little. "And what would you know about having a love life anyway? 'Caring is not an advantage', isn't that what you always say?" he asks in annoyance as he glares at his brother.
Letting out a little sigh, Mycroft looks away from his brother, frustrated but not letting it be known. "I daresay I know a great deal more than you, little brother." he says before he glances at his watch, pulling out his phone to send a quick text for a car to be sent for him. "I trust that you'll keep Ms. Charles safe. If I find out any information, I will be sure to pass it on." he reassures as he gets up, swinging his umbrella a little. "Good afternoon, Sherlock." he says in his usual politeness before he picks up his briefcase and lets himself out.
Sherlock snatched up his phone, sending a text to John this time, going over the new information.
Have some new information about Sofia's kidnapping. -SH
Yeah? Good, we need to catch those bastards - JW
Not good. More complicated. Information came from my brother. -SH
Call me. NOW. -SH
Sherlock was not in the mood to be polite, and he figures it will be easier to explain over the phone than text, and as much as he prefers to text, he doesn't want any written record of what he knows. He does pick up the file folder that Mycroft left, wandering over to the bookcase to slide it behind a false panel that no one has found yet, just to make sure that it stays safe. A few moments later his phone rang, and he picked up immediately, starting to explain the situation to John.