"The Big Switch-a-roo."
Chapter 4
"Sherlock in politics AKA a dolphin among sharks."
Anthea, or whatever her name is, was mad at him.
Sherlock could tell from the way she was glaring at him, her piercing brown eyes for once focused on something that wasn't a blackberry screen, as the two of them walked down the corridor towards the office he was supposed to take over from his brother.
And, considering that he hasn't done anything to deserve the scorn (yet), the younger Holmes felt that the hostility was both underserved and unwarranted.
So he did what any normal person would do.
He called her out on it.
"You're angry with me." Sherlock's smooth baritone stated, accompanied by the annoying clicks on the woman's high heels.
"Yes." Was Anthea's only response, her eyes not leaving the general proximity of his face.
"Why?"
"I had to add 'Taking care of an Insolent Man-Child' into my schedule, without additional pay." She said bluntly. "You can't possibly expect me to be happy with more work added to my day."
The younger Holmes snorted.
"I see someone is having that time of the month." He muttered placing his hands in his pockets.
Hearing that his new PA actually looked up at him and smiled.
"Oh you better get used to this, sweetie." She said, her tone condescending. "Most of us here have serious doubts concerning this new…arrangement you proposed."
"Really? I was under the illusion that taking out the old fat brother and exchanging him for a shiny young new one, was a wonderful win-win situation for all involved." He waved her off. "Mycroft was nearing his 'out-of-date' status, anyway, him being the old git that he is. So I basically saved you the trouble of having to smother him in his sleep, when he inevitably becomes useless from stuffing so much cake down his throat." He then looked pointedly at her. "One would think you'd be more thankful for that, I practically saved my irritating brother's life."
"Mr. Holmes is England's Golden Boy." Anthea stated, ignoring his earlier quips. "Taking him out of his desk is severely reducing the functionality of the entire country." She raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure your feet are big enough to fill up your brother's shoes?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes with an indignant snort.
"Whatever he can do I can do better, I assure you." Came the childish reply from the detective, who sounded more like a little boy struggling with his 'little brother' complex.
Anthea just chuckled under her breath and shook her head.
"We shall see." She said before stopping, the sudden non-movement prompting the Detective to stop as well. They finally reached their destination.
Before them was a simple wooden door.
"So…" Sherlock began, nervously placing his hands in his pockets. "What's on today's to-do list?"
"First you have a meeting with all the world leaders." She stated automatically, already used to giving this information to the elder of the brothers whenever he didn't feel like remembering. "Regarding all the resent events that occurred and how to prevent them from happening again." The PA was already twisting the doorknob.
Sherlock nodded and was about to push the wooden door himself, when his brain reminded him of something that he failed to take into account when signing up for all this.
"Wait! What resent events?! I don't watch the ne-"
But he was already being brutally pushed into the room.
"Have fun!" Came the sing-along voice of Anthea as the door was slammed and locked behind him.
Recognizing a lost battle for what it was, the World's only consulting detective sighted and turned to face the people he was going to spend the next hour or more.
In the middle of the large room he was facing stood a giant round table looking as if it was taken fresh out of a 'King Arthur' story book, only, unlike the famous one from the legend, this wooden contraption was surrounded by government heads from over a dozen other countries along with their translators.
Unlike what people usually saw on the news, something he can actually prove thanks to the few times John managed to make him watch TV, all those people were sitting quietly. Just staring at each other without a word, not really noticing his arrival.
It was obvious to Sherlock, right then and there, that they were waiting for everyone to be present so that the negotiations to properly begin.
Mainly, him.
Sighting, he marched up to the only free chair left on the table, all the while questioning his resent choices in life, and sat down on the throne-like contraption that loomed over everyone else.
It wasn't hard to figure out who occupied the position of Top Dog in this pack.
Unfortunately for Sherlock…it wasn't him.
A little fact that sent this whole day rolling down the drains.
Not really knowing what to say, like he said earlier to his older brother's PA he came in totally unprepared, the Consulting Detective was left with a single option of watching the people around him and trying to deduce why this meeting was being held in the first place.
After a few minutes of nothing happening, a curious Prime Minister sneaked a peek in the detective's direction.
And just like that…
All Hell broke loose.
Because, what do dogs do when their Alpha is missing?
They fall in to chaos.
Immediately everyone started yelling over themselves in their native tongues, translators struggling to keep up with everything being said and poor Sherlock not really knowing on who he should be focusing on.
He looked around with a panic look on his face.
What was going on?!
Why was everyone suddenly so loud?!
The poor man heard a multitude of languages all around him, from all around the world, each of them trying to out-yell the other and sending poor Sherlock into an overload frenzy.
Before the poor sod could lose his sanity, however, a pair of British sounding people could be heard somewhere to his left, so he focused all his attention on them.
"…This is a terrible idea!" A male voice argued.
"But the people demand it!" A female one countered it.
"They fail to see the cocequences such a decision will bring!"
"We shouldn't be going against the will of the UK citizens!"
"We are not having this discussion now, when Mr. Holmes decides to humor his brat of a brother!"
Now Sherlock felt offended, so he squared his shoulders and smoothly stepped into the discussion.
"I think this a wonderful idea." He said, earning the attention of his fellow Britons.
The man he didn't recognize swallowed thickly, fully aware of the exchange of power between the Holmes brothers.
"Are you sure Mr. Holmes?" He asked weakly.
Sherlock's smile was predatory.
"Most definitely."
A couple of hours later, the younger Holmes stepped out for a bathroom break he spotted Anthea, who looked torn between punching him repeatedly in his high cheekbones and begging her real boss to come back posthaste.
Sherlock's mouth went dry.
"Anthea…" He managed to wheeze out. "What did I agree to?"
She then looked at him with such rage he nearly took a step back.
"Brexit."