The following morning John jogged around the corner, stopping briefly to stare at the damage done by the explosion across the street from his flat. He had been unaware of the incident until he saw the news playing while he was over at Sarah's place. Swallowing thickly, he pressed on towards the police barrier pushing his way through the crowd. He politely made his way closer to the tape, approaching an officer.
"Can I go through?" he inquired, pointing at the door of his building. The man looked back at the building and nodded, allowing John to pass. John quickly picked his way through the debris that littered the street along with the fire trucks and gear that had yet to be cleaned up. He stopped in the middle of the street gawking at the giant hole that covered multiple floors in the building across the street from him. Wanting to go and check on his friends who would have been in the flat he quickly continued towards 221B. An officer was standing just outside the building, keeping people away from the scene.
"I live here." John explained quietly as the man intercepted him. The officer stepped aside to let John unlock the door and bolt up the stairs.
...
"Sherlock! Adara!" he shouted on his way up, skipping stairs two at a time. The lack of response worried him. Entering the room his eye is drawn to the boarded-up windows in the living room. He then looked around and spotted the people he was looking for. Sherlock was sitting in his chair, seemingly uninjured and staring petulantly at the man opposite him. John noticed that he was fully clothed this time. He watched as Sherlock intermittently plucked at the strings of his violin that he cradled against his chest, not playing any type of tune. Just making noise. Adara walked in from the kitchen, holding two cups of tea.
"Hello John." She politely greeted, handing a cup to Mycroft who was sitting in John's chair while staring down his little brother. Sherlock and Mycroft had situated themselves to sit directly across from one another, their long legs nearly touching despite having them crossed. Mycroft grinned tightly in thanks at Adara, taking a sip before setting it aside. She continued on with her own cup and pulled out one of the desk chairs, taking a seat just behind Sherlock.
"John." Sherlock greeted in turn, shifting his eyes up at the man. Mycroft said nothing, merely glancing at him over his shoulder before turning back. No one other than John seemed bothered by the event last evening.
"I saw it on the telly. Are you okay?" John inquired, looking between his two friends worriedly. Sherlock frowned, and looked up at him.
"Hmm? What?..." the man looked around casually at the mess of glass and debris that still littered the floor.
"Oh, yea. Fine. Gas leak, apparently." He quickly shrugged off, looking down and fiddling with his violin. John looked to Adara, knowing she would give the more honest answer.
"We really are fine, John. Just a couple bumps, nothing to worry about." She assured the man easily. John nodded, satisfied with her answer. Meanwhile Sherlock returned his attention to his brother, plucking the violin strings irritably. Mycroft stared at the man tiredly.
"I can't" Sherlock told his brother.
"Can't" Mycroft mused in disbelief, twirling his umbrella casually back and forth as it rested on the floor.
"The stuff I've got on is just too big. I can't spare the time." Sherlock explained airily, his fingers still moving across his instrument. Adara pursed her lips and quickly hid her expression behind her mug of tea. John however glanced at the man incredulously. Just yesterday evening he was complaining about his lack of task. Why was he lying?
"Never mind your usual trivia. This is of national importance." Mycroft insisted tiredly. Sherlock's expression soured and he slapped his hand over the strings to quite them.
"How's the diet?" he taunted instead, further proving that he wasn't going to entertain the subject any longer.
"Fine." Mycroft answered with wide eyes before turning to the man examining the windows.
"Perhaps you can get through to him, John." He suggested instead. John turned around in surprise having suddenly been brought into the conversation.
"What?" he asked.
"I'm afraid my brother can be very intransigent." Mycroft elaborated. Sherlock pursed his lips and gave his attention to the violin.
"If you're so keen, why don't you investigate it?" he suggested tightly.
"No, no, no, no, no….I can't possibly be away from the office for any length of time. Not with the Korean elections so…" The three others in the room looked at the man curiously as he trailed off.
"Well, you don't need to know about that, do you?" he grinned humorlessly. His eyes turned towards Adara.
"Especially you." Adara merely grinned impishly. On the sidelines, John watched the exchange in confusion. Shaking it off for now he returned to the topic at hand….though he still wasn't sure what the topic actually was.
"Besides, a case like this…it requires…" the man grimaced as he spat out the next word.
"…legwork." Mycroft finished. Sherlock plucked a bad note in reaction to his brother's distain. He glanced back at Adara and shared an amused grin at his brother's expense. Mycroft scowled.
"Why can't you have Adara do it? This seems like something more up her ally." John suggested.
"No, that wouldn't do." Mycroft quickly dismissed.
"Why?"
"I'm not allowed." Adara simpered childishly, aiming a pointed look at the elder Holmes.
"For a perfectly sound reason I assure you. You don't need to know the details." Mycroft informed John, who felt awfully left out. Clearly the other three were privy to information that he wasn't. Although that was really nothing new. Sherlock began playing his instrument again irritably. He paused mid-pluck and turned to face John.
"How's Sarah, John? How was the lilo?" he inquired, watching John rub his neck.
"Sofa, Sherlock. It was the sofa." Mycroft corrected, looking down at his pocket watch. Sherlock frowned, giving John a once over.
"Oh yes, of course." John stared at them incredulously, his mouth agape.
"How?...Oh, never mind." He grumbled, plopping down onto the coffee table. Adara grinned.
"Fun isn't it. I often forget how quick Mycroft can be." She hummed delightedly. Mycroft scowled at the insult.
"Sherlock's business seems to be booming since you and he became….pals." Mycroft noted instead, turning his attention back to John. Sherlock threw the man a dark look. Adara spotted it and nudged the man with the toe of her boot. No need to be offended by the comment. Mycroft ignored the whole thing, keeping his focus on John instead.
"What's he like to live with? Hellish, I imagine."
"On the contrary Sherlock's quite…..enlightening." Adara chimed in with a teasing grin. Mycroft grimaced.
"Ugh…please refrain from discussing your affections in front of me. Besides, you don't even live here." Mycroft pointed out in mild disgust. She shrugged; unbothered. John smirked in amusement at the exchange before answering Mycroft.
"I'm never bored." He surmised with a small grin. Mycroft grinned falsely.
"Good! That's good, isn't it?" Sherlock remained silent, irked at how his brother was talking about him as if he wasn't there. Mycroft stood, gathering the folder in his hand. In retaliation Sherlock swiftly swung his bow out, preventing the man from coming closer. Mycroft scowled down at Sherlock who stared back unflinchingly. Mycroft grimaced and poked his cheek with his tongue; no doubt holding back some biting words at his brother's childish antics. His eyes pointedly flitted past Adara and he turned to John instead.
"Andrew West, known as Westie to his friends." The man explained. John startled and took the folder from him, glancing around at Sherlock curiously. Taking the action as a hopeful sign, Mycroft continued the explanation.
"A civil servant, found dead on the tracks at Battersea Station this morning with his head smashed in."
"Jumped in front of a train?"
"Seems the logical assumption." John's lips quirked. That was too easy, especially if this was something he wanted Sherlock to investigate.
"But?"
"But?" Mycroft asked innocently.
"Well, you wouldn't be here if it was just an accident." John pointed out. Sherlock, who was now applying rosin to his bow, chuckled. Adara grinned proudly as she watched John. He was learning.
"The M.O.D. is working on a new missile defense system, the Bruce-Partington Programme it's called." Mycroft turned back to look at Sherlock as John scanned the contents of the folder.
"The plans for it were on a memory stick."
"That wasn't very clever." John pointed out. Sherlock smirked in agreement.
"It's not the only copy." Mycroft whispered tightly as explanation.
"Still not a great idea." Adara countered. Mycroft flicked his eyes skyward before continuing his conversation.
"But it is secret. And missing." He elaborated.
"Top secret?" John asked.
"Very. We think West must have taken the memory stick. We can't possible risk it falling into the wrong hands." Mycroft turned back to towards his brother.
"You've got to find those plans, Sherlock. Don't make me order you." he warned. Sherlock inhaled sharply, pulling his violin up to his chin in preparation to play. He stared calmly up at his brother.
"I'd like to see you try." He hissed challengingly. Mycroft leaned forward in an attempt to intimidate him.
"Think it over." Mycroft insisted. Adara grinned in amusement, thoroughly entertained by this whole spat.
"You know this would be so much easier if you just let me take the case." Adara pointed out, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. Mycroft rolled his eyes.
"I have no control over that. You are not allowed to interfere with anything pertaining to the government." He insisted. Adara threw her head back with a groan.
"I'll be good I promise. When was the last time you had an issue with me?" she asked with a grin. Mycroft pursed his lips.
"Just before you were put on the security watch." He deadpanned. Adara grinned in remembrance, not refuting his claim. She wasn't particularly remorseful about it either.
"Now that we have gotten that nonsense out of the way…..Goodbye John." Mycroft stuck his hand out to shake. Being the polite one John stood and took it.
"See you very soon." Mycroft grinned knowingly. John clenched his jaw. As Mycroft collected his coat Sherlock began playing a repetitive sequence of irritating notes, staring his brother down the whole time. John frowned in bewilderment as Sherlock continued his antics until Mycroft was out the door. The second he left Adara reached over and tightly clamped her hand down on the neck of the violin, preventing the strings from vibrating.
"That is more than enough." She insisted before gently letting it go. Sherlock lowered the violin reluctantly, still annoyed with the whole ordeal. John sat down on the coffee table once more. He pursed his lips in thought, glancing back and forth between Sherlock and where Mycroft had left.
"Why did you lie?" he asked curiously. Sherlock looked over at him as if confused to what he was talking about.
"You've got nothing on, not a single case. That's why the wall took a pounding. Why did you tell your brother you were busy?" John persisted. Sherlock scrunched up his face indifferently, rubbing his bow across his ear absently.
"Why shouldn't I?"
"Because it's childish." Adara quipped. Sherlock whipped around to glare at her. Her comment sparked a realization in John. He nodded.
"Oh….Oh, I see." Sherlock's gaze drifted his direction sharply.
"Sibling rivalry. Now we're getting somewhere." John mused.
"Yes, the very core of their relationship. For grown men you two spend an awful lot of time antagonizing one another." Adare commented, looking at Sherlock pointedly. The man huffed and whipped around to face her, mouth open to argue. However, he was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. He stared heatedly at Adara for a beat while she stared right back, unphased.
"You're going to want to answer that." She hummed with a grin. Sherlock rolled his eyes and set down his bow, pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket.
"Sherlock Holmes." He answered briskly. Sherlock sat in silence as he listened.
"Of course. How could I refuse?" In one swift motion he clicked off the phone and stood, setting the violin onto his seat.
"Thank god. I was afraid he would be in a foul mood for the rest of the day." Adara muttered to John who chuckled. Sherlock made his way to the door.
"Lestrade. I've been summoned. Coming?" he asked, turning towards the two of them.
"I always do." Adara answered easily, filing in behind him. Sherlock looked to John.
"If you want me to." He answered, still unsure where he stood with the man after their last fight.
"Of course. I would be lost without my blogger." The man quipped, pulling on his coat.
...
...
Taking a taxi, the group soon arrives as Scotland Yard. Detective Inspector Lestrade met them in the lobby, filling them in as they walk back towards his office.
"You like the funny cases, don't you? The surprising ones." Lestrade inquired.
"Obviously." Sherlock deadpanned.
"You'll love this. That explosion…."
"The gas leak?" Adara inquired for clarification as she followed alongside Sherlock.
"No."
"No?" Sherlock's brow rose curiously.
"No. Made to look like one." Lestrade explained as they turned into his office. Sherlock stared down at the plain white envelop lying on the desk.
"Hardly anything left of the place except a strong box. A very strong box….and inside was this." the inspector explained, pointing to the envelope.
"Why didn't you open it?" Adara inquired, looking up at the man. Lestrade shrugged.
"It's addressed to you, isn't it?" he pointed out. Sherlock reached for the envelope.
"We X-rayed it. It's not booby trapped." Lestrade informed him. Adara pursed her lips, shooting him a look. Sherlock paused, glancing down at it.
"How reassuring." He muttered. With the envelope in hand he moves to hold it under the desk lamp, carefully examining the handwritten 'Sherlock Holmes' on the front.
"Nice stationary. Bohemian." Adara commented, leaning forward to get a better look at it. Lestrade frowned in confusion.
"What?"
"It's from the Czech Republic." She clarified.
"No fingerprints?" Sherlock inquired.
"No."
"She used a fountain pen. A Parker Duofold. Iridium nib." Sherlock summarized, scanning the writing. Adara's eyes looked up at him sharply.
"She?" she asked uncertainly.
"Obviously." Adara pursed her lips, responding only with a noncommittal grunt. Sherlock eyed her but didn't comment. It wasn't often she disagreed, but that wasn't important right now.
"Obviously." John huffed sarcastically. Sherlock reached over to pick up a letter opener. He carefully sliced it open, being sure not to damage the envelope. His eyebrows rise in slight surprise at the contents. Reaching in he pulls out a pink IPhone. John stares at in in shock.
"But that's….that's the phone. The pink phone." He stutters, looking at Lestrade.
"What, from the Study in Pink?" Lestrade asked curiously.
"Well, obviously it's not the same phone but it's supposed to look…." Sherlock froze midsentence, fully processing what Lestrade had said. He turned to face him in exasperation.
"The Study in Pink? You read his blog?" he asked. John winced, choosing to glance away.
"Course I read his blog! We all do. Do you really not know that the earth goes around the Sun?" Lestrade asked in surprise. From the doorway Sally Donovan, who had dropped off some files, snickered. Adara whipped around to glare at the woman fiercely. Sally made a quick exit. With the antagonist gone, Sherlock turned his attention back to the phone.
"It isn't the same phone. This one's brand new." Sherlock explained, looking intently at the connection ports. None of them had scratches.
"Someone went through an awful lot of trouble to duplicate the phone." Adara hummed. Sherlock nodded.
"Meaning your blog has a far wider readership." Sherlock pointed out, shooting John an accusatory glance. John chose to ignore it, turning his head to look out the glass wall. Turning the phone on, it immediately speaks.
"You have one new message." The machine monotones. The message plays. Five short beeps.
"Is that it?" John inquires.
"No. That's not it." Sherlock countered, watching as a text alert popped up on the screen. He opened it to reveal a photograph. Lestrade, John and Adara hovered around Sherlock to look at the photo. An abandoned room with peeling wallpaper. An old fireplace was in the center with a tall mirror to the left. Adara frowned, taking note the whoever took the photo took care to angle the mirror away so it wouldn't catch their reflection.
"What the hell are we supposed to make of that? An estate agent's photo and the bloody Greenwich pips." he huffed. Sherlock narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
"It's a warning." He muttered quietly.
"A warning?" Lestrade inquired, watching him intently. Sherlock turned his head towards them.
"Some secret societies used to send dried melon seeds, orange pips, things like that…."
"It's a warning that this will happen again…" Adara trailed off in realization, finishing Sherlock's train of thought. Sherlock nodded, staring down at the photo again. He lifted it up so Adara could get a better look at it.
"Does this look familiar to you?" he asked, looking over at her curiously. Adara nodded and straightened up.
"I know exactly where that is." She told the group. Sherlock stood to follow after her. John and Lestrade quickly scurried after them.
"H-hang on. What's going to happen again?" John asked. With Adara still walking alongside him Sherlock spun around.
"Boom!" he dramatically answered, his hands mimicking an explosion. Adara gently nudged his arm, steering him to avoid a trashcan as he walked backwards. When he got his point across Sherlock whipped back around and exited the room. John and Lestrade were close behind.
...
...
The group arrived back at 221 Baker Street, all four of them piling out of the taxi. Sherlock leads the way and unlocks the front door, slipping past the stairwell towards Mrs. Hudson's flat at the end of the hall. However, he stops short and looks at the door just before it. 221C.
"Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock shouts, turning his head to face the landlady's door. Adara rolled her eyes.
"Sherlock, there is no need to shout. You are only a few steps away." She scolded, instead taking time to knock on the woman's door. Sherlock grunted and crossed his arms, waiting impatiently by the apartment door. Lestrade and John waited quietly behind Sherlock, both still a bit lost as to what was going on. Soon the door opened, and Mrs. Hudson looked at the group in pleasant surprise.
"Oh what's all the fuss about?" she inquired.
"A case has come up and we need to get into 221C. It's rather urgent." Adara explained with a pleasant smile. The landlady frowned in confusion before turning back into her flat to grab the key. She quickly returned and walked out, handing Adara the key. With a nod of thanks Adara makes her way over to join the boys. Sherlock glances up at her from where he had been examining the padlock on the door. Adara hands him the keys, letting him open the door.
"You and Adara had a look, didn't you? When you first came to see about your flat." Mrs. Hudson commented, hovering on the side. Sherlock frowned at the lock, peering closely at the keyhole.
"The door's been opened recently." He pointed out.
"No, that can't be. That's the only key." Mrs. Hudson countered, her face pulling into a frown. Sherlock pulled the padlock off and puts the key into the keyhole.
"I can't get anyone interested in this flat. It's the damp, I expect. That's the curse of basements." Mrs. Hudson explained to the group, passing the time with idle chit chat. Ignoring her, Sherlock opens the door immediately followed by the others.
"I had a place once when I was first married. Black mold all up the walls…" the landlady continued to prattle. Each one sent her a strained grin as the went inside. Mrs. Hudson was officially cut off as Lestrade closed the door behind him. Adara turned around to frown at him.
"Was that really necessary?"
"I don't think she was going to stop otherwise." He pointed out sheepishly. Adara chuckled and said nothing further on the matter. In silence the group descended the stairs to the basement. Sherlock slowly pushes open the door, walking into the main room of the flat. It remained untouched, looking identical to the photograph. The only anomaly was a pair of white trainers in the middle of the floor, facing them.
"Shoes." John muttered. Adara turned to face him.
"Yes, very well done, John." She drolled sarcastically. John huffs, turning his face away in embarrassment. Sherlock takes a step towards them but is quickly stopped when John puts out his hand.
"He's a bomber, remember." He told the man warningly. Taking the advice Sherlock continues but at a slower pace. A few steps away he crouches down, leaning forward on his hands to get closer to the shoes. As in inches closer the phone rings. Sherlock jumped, closing his eyes a moment to collect himself. Standing back up he pulls off his gloves to take out the pink phone. The number was blocked. Meanwhile Adara was glancing around the room as best she could in the dark. The timing was too coincidental. Sherlock answered the phone, putting it on speaker as he locked eyes with her. He had the same train of thought.
"Hello?" Sherlock softly answered. The caller drew in a shaky breath before speaking.
"H…hello….sexy." the woman answered tearfully. The group glanced at one another in mild alarm.
"Who's this?" Sherlock continued; his face still blank as he listened intently. The woman sniffled as she continued to cry on the other side.
"I've….sent you…a little puzzle….just to say hi." Sherlock frowned.
"Who's talking? Why are you crying?" he asked.
"I..I'm not ….. crying….I'm typing…..and this….stupid….bitch….is reading it out." the woman shakily answered, sobbing a bit at the end. Adara pursed her lips tightly, staring down at the phone as if it had offended her. She did not like this one bit.
"The curtain rises…." Sherlock muttered under his breath. Adara, being the closest, shot her eyes to him anxiously.
"What?" John asked.
"Nothing." The taller man quickly dismissed. But John wasn't going to let it go that easily.
"No, what did you mean?" he insisted. Sherlock turned his head slightly.
"I've been expecting this for some time." He explained. John's head jerked back in surprise and looked to Adara. She returned his gaze solemnly.
"Twelve hours to solve….my puzzle, Sherlock…." The woman on the like shakily continued. Adara and Sherlock shared a relieved glance, away from the other two. Whoever it was didn't mention her, she was still anonymous.
"….or I'm going….to be….so naughty." The woman sobbed just before the line went dead. Sherlock and Adara straightened up.
"Lestrade see if you can get a trace on the number, this woman is in trouble." She instructed, watching as the man nodded before taking off back to Scotland Yard. She turned to John next.
"Get us a lab at St. Barts, we need one to ourselves to work. Get the best one you can." John nodded, already turning and pulling out his cell. When they were left alone in the room Sherlock frowned at her.
"You know he won't be able to track it. The bomber has been meticulous up until now. It's too early for them to make a simple mistake like that." He explained. Adara nodded.
"Just needed to get rid of him. John too, although it will save us a few minutes." Sherlock nodded, staring down at her.
"What's wrong?" he asked. Adara bit her lip, turning her head to scan the room.
"He's enjoying this. It's a game to him and for some reason he's decided to let you in to play. The end game is what worries me." She explained, looking up at him thoughtfully. Sherlock sighed.
"That's what we need to find out. I'll play along until we can find an opportunity to look further into this." Adara tiredly rubbed her hand down her face.
"Not much choice at this point." She admitted, knowing he was right but still not liking it. Sherlock nodded, glancing around he led her out of the small room to stand in the staircase. Being out of the open seemed to calm her nerves a bit. In the solitude he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. She relaxed fully in his arms, wrapping her own around his waist as they stood their quietly. Sherlock set his chin on top of her head, blinking as he realized something.
"You said, he." He murmured. Adara nodded in his chest.
"Just a hunch. I know people. I know the envelope looks feminine but there are parts of this whole scenario that say male. They could have had a woman write it. Or he has great handwriting. Whoever it is, is very fluid at playing both parts." She thought aloud. Sherlock hummed in thought.
"There's something else you aren't telling me." He commented lowly. Sherlock held her shoulders and pulled away to look her in the eye. Adara glanced down.
"I can't help but feel like is going to come back to me." She admitted. Sherlock scoffed.
"Doubtful. As far as we know the bomber isn't aware of you."
"Yes, but I'm afraid they'll force my hand and everything we've been so careful about with unravel. I don't want to put a bigger target on your back." She lamented, twisting her hands anxiously. Sherlock's lip quirked up at her concern. He gently reached down to grab her hands, stopping their movements. Adara looked up at him.
"I've always known that something would happen, whether it stem from you or from me. The odds are too great for it not to be a possibility. That knowledge has not deterred me from remaining with you all these years. The implementation of the event certainly won't change that now." Sherlock told her seriously. Adara grinned up at him fondly.
"You know….that's one of the most romantic things you've ever said to me." She mused with a chuckle. Sherlock smirked proudly.
"Despite what others might think, I am not totally devoid of emotions." He quipped. Adara hummed, still grinning at him.
"That certainly is true." She agreed. Tilting her head up she pressed a kiss to his lips. Pulling away she gestured her head back towards the empty room.
"We should probably grab the shoes and go. Time is wasting." She suggested. Sherlock cleared his throat and straightened himself up.
"Of course." He nodded, swiftly heading inside to collect the evidence.