Chapter thirty-six: Short sighted

Later, Sherlock, John and I are scrunched in the back of a taxi. "You've heard of Charles Augustus Magnussen," Sherlock states. "of course."

"Yeah. Owns some newspapers," John says. "ones I don't read."

"Tammy doesn't read newspapers, so she doesn't know." Sherlock frowns, looks round the cab and then out of the back window. "Hang on, weren't there other people?"

"Mary's taking the boys home; I'm taking you." John explains. "We did discuss it."

Sherlock looks upward, trying to remember. "People were talking, none of them me. I must have filtered."

"I noticed."

"I have to filter out a lot of witless babble." He says. "I've got Mrs. Hudson on semi-permanent mute."

"What do you have me on?" I ask.

Sherlock's eyes open and he looks at me in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

I exhale heavily. "We just happened to flag down the same taxi."

He groans. "This is not…happening." Eventually the taxi arrives outside 221B Baker Street. Sherlock lets out an exasperated sigh upon exiting the taxi. "What is my brother doing here?"

He gets out and heads for the front door. John calls after him. "So, I'll just pay, then, shall I?"

Sherlock goes up onto the doorstep and glares at the doorknocker. "He's straightened the knocker." He turns to John as John helps me get out of the cab. "He always corrects it. He's OCD. Doesn't even know he's doing it."

He pushes the doorknocker to one side, then lets himself in. "Why'd you do that?" John asks.

Sherlock frowns. "Do what?"

I shoot John a warning and John catches it. "Nothing."

Sherlock opens the door, stops and then rolls his eyes at the sight of Mycroft sitting on the stairs. "Well, then, Sherlock. Back on the sauce?" I come up behind Sherlock and Mycroft studies me. "Oh God, not again Tammy. I thought you'd be tired of being pregnant. I guess Sherlock didn't give you much time to rest up after you two remarried."

"Shut up." I snap. "Shut up now."

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock demands.

"I phoned him." John says from behind us.

"Brilliant John." I comment sarcastically.

"The siren call of old habits. How very like Uncle Rudy, though, in many ways, cross-dressing would have been a wiser path for you."

"Shut up Mycroft." I snap at him.

Sherlock crosses his arms and addresses john without looking at him. "You phoned him."

John exhales. "Of course I bloody phoned him."

"Of course he bloody did. Now, save me a little time. Where should we be looking?"

"We?" Sherlock asks.

I frown as well. "Who else is in here?"

"Mr. Holmes?"

At the sound of Andersen's voice calling down from the flat above, Sherlock shouts furiously. "For God's sake!"

He storms up the stairs, Mycroft slides sideways to get out of his way. Mycroft and John exchange a look before John exhales deeply. I move after Sherlock. "Great! Now I've got to go calm him down before he hits Andersen!" I kick Mycroft in the hip for good measure. "Get out of my way!"

"Tammy!" John calls after me. "Stairs!"

I follow Sherlock into the kitchen. He glares at Andersen who is with Benji. I don't know what was in her parent's head, but maybe they wanted a dog and got her instead.

Sherlock angrily snaps. "Andersen."

Andersen raises his gloved hands apologetically. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. It's for your own good."

Sherlock drops his keys onto the kitchen table while Benji stares at him. "Oh, that's him, isn't it?" Sherlock turns and storms towards his chair, to see another man is occupying it. Needless to say, Sherlock's dark glare causes the man scrambles out of his chair. Sherlock flips his hood up over his head as he climbs into the chair. "You said he'd be taller."

"He is tall." I glower at her as I approach Sherlock. "You're just a little short sighted."

Mycroft enters the kitchen and looks towards Sherlock. "Some members of your little fan-club. Do be polite. They're entirely trustworthy, and even willing to search through the toxic waste dump that you are pleased to call a flat." Sherlock has rested his head on one of the chair arms, curled up in a semi-fetal position and he closes his eyes. I lean forward and rub his forehead gently. He bumps his forehead into my palm, telling me that he likes that. "You're a celebrity these days, Sherlock. You can't afford a drug habit."

Sherlock snaps in irritation. "I do not have a drug habit."

John completely changes the subject. "Hey," he points to his empty seat. "what happened to my chair?"

"It was blocking my view to the kitchen."

John turns to Mycroft. "Well, it's good to be missed!"

"Well, you were gone." Sherlock says drearily. "I saw an opportunity."

"No," John remarks smartly. "you saw the kitchen."

I frown. "Then…if you moved the chair…you must have been here." Sherlock doesn't move. "Why would you be here and not tell me?"

Mycroft turns to Anderson. "What have you found so far? Clearly nothing."

"There's nothing to find." Sherlock insists.

"Your bedroom door is shut." Mycroft observes as he begins slowly walking along the hallway. "You haven't been home all night. So, why would a man who has never knowingly closed the door without the direct orders of his mother bother to do so on this occasion?"

Sherlock's head comes up and he flips his hood back while Mycroft reaches for the doorknob. Sherlock bolts up into a sitting position. "Okay, stop! Just stop." Mycroft turns the knob but doesn't open the door. "Point made."

"Jesus," John swears. "Sherlock."

Mycroft turns and walks slowly back along the hall. "Have to phone our parents, of course, in Oklahoma." Sherlock looks down and I begin to rub his shoulders. "Won't be the first time that your substance abuse has wreaked havoc with their line-dancing."

"Stop it Mycroft." I warn him. "It's his room and he's been closing the door since he's been married to me. So isn't it logical to assume that he's started closing the door out a habit? He says he doesn't have a drug habit and you should take him at his word."

Mycroft smirks. "Dear, innocent, blind, trusting Tammy."

"I always trust him." I bite out. "He's rarely given me a reason not to trust him."

Sherlock stands up and walks closer to Mycroft. "This is not what you think. This is for a case."

"What case could possibly justify this?" he glances at me. "Tammy is going to be asking for a divorce once this one's over."

My head shoots up at those words. "What?!"

"She trusts you explicitly and you betrayed her. You lied to her!" He shakes his head. "If I were that type of man interested in your sort of life, I'd never treat my wife the way you've treated her!"

"Magnussen." Mycroft's smirk slips off his face as Sherlock speaks. "Charles Augustus Magnussen."

Mycroft turns to Anderson and Benji. "That name you think you may have just heard, you were mistaken. If you ever mention hearing that name in this room, in this context, I guarantee you, on behalf of the British security services, that materials will be found on your computer hard drives resulting in your immediate incarceration. Don't reply, just look frightened and scuttle". Andersen and Benji immediately hurry out of the flat. Mycroft turns back to John. "I hope I won't have to threaten you as well."

"Well, I think we'd both find that embarrassing."

Sherlock snorts as Mycroft turns to me. "And you Tammy, you will-

"Oh, shut up Mycroft!" I snap at him. "Don't be idiotic! Who am I going to go blabbing to about Magnussen? I'm a stay at home housewife, remember? Besides, I have control over you, not you over me! Your parents have two grandchildren and a third on the way. Who are they going to listen to? You, or me?" he glowers at me and I know I've won. "I got you put on suspension once, I can do it again!"

Sherlock laughs. "You suspended Mycroft? I never heard of this. When was this?"

"Oh, I told his parents about how he'd turned you in to Moriarty. Your father is still a good friend with his superior. He was suspended for revealing important information resulting in death."

"When in actuality, he wasn't dead." He turns and speaks sternly to Sherlock. "Magnussen is not your business."

Sherlock turns and points at Mycroft. "Oh, you mean he's yours?

"You may consider him under my protection."

"I consider you under his thumb."

Mycroft speaks ominously, threatening Sherlock. "If you go against Magnussen, then you will find yourself going against me."

Sherlock shrugs nonchalantly. "Okay. I'll let you know if I notice." He strolls towards the kitchen door. "What was I going to say? Oh, yeah." He opens the door and points outside. "Bye-bye."

Mycroft walks towards him, and then turns to face him. "Unwise, brother mine."

Sherlock seizes Mycroft's left arm and twists it behind his back. Sherlock then slams his brother face-first into the wall beside the kitchen door. Mycroft cries out in pain. John and I both hasten over to the two brothers.

Sherlock is breathing rapidly and his voice is venomous. "Brother mine, don't appall me when I'm high."

"Sherlock," I say firmly and patiently. "let Mycroft go…now."

John hurries over to Mycroft's side. His tone is soft and firm as he watches Sherlock's face. "Mycroft, don't say another word. Just go. He could snap you in two, and right now I am slightly worried that he might." Mycroft pulls himself free of Sherlock's grip and holds his left arm in pain. Sherlock walks away and I follow after him. Mycroft turns towards John, who cuts him off. "Don't speak, just leave."

"And don't come to our home again unless you're invited or send me a message prior to arrival." Sherlock is stretching and rubbing the back of his neck. I reach out and rub his shoulders. He whips around, his eyes wide, and his hands are prepared to strike. He relaxes and drops his hands when he sees that it's me touching him and not Mycroft. "You need to relax Sherlock." He lets out a grunt when I loosen a particularly tight spot on his shoulders.

Sherlock turns to John and asks. "What time is it?"

"About eight."

Sherlock sniffs deeply and sighs out a disgusted breath. "I'm meeting him in three hours. I need a bath."

He walks towards the bathroom. John calls after him. "It's for a case, you said?"

"Yep."

"What sort of case?"

"Too big and dangerous for any sane individual to get involved in."

"You trying to put me off?" John asks.

Sherlock shakes his head. "God, no." He places his hand on the bathroom door; he looks back at John. "Trying to recruit you." He then goes into the bathroom. "And stay out of my bedroom. That goes for you too Tammy." He sticks his head out of the bathroom door. "Tammy, go upstairs, play with the kids and whatever. I'll come up as soon as possible."