Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.
Background: See prologue chapter.
A/N: See prologue chapter.
Beta: Lady of the Shards
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Interlude 1
Sherlock, John and Harry arrived at Baker Street with Harry still asleep. John got out of the taxi first and paid the cabbie as Sherlock got out carrying Harry carefully.
"Open the door, John," said Sherlock quietly.
John while still cross with Sherlock for spilling the hot tea on him but not wanting to make a scene or wake Harry up quite yet, moved to do as Sherlock asked when the door opened from the other side and Mrs. Hudson came out.
"Sherlock! John! You're both all right!" she said, rather loudly in Sherlock's opinion, making a move to hug them both before she spotted Harry in Sherlock's arms.
"Sherlock," said Mrs. Hudson carefully. "Who is that?"
"This is Harry. He will be living with us from now on. We'll work out the details inside after I have laid him down somewhere more comfortable," stated Sherlock.
"Of course, dear," said Mrs. Hudson gesturing for the both of them to go inside. "Go right up and I'll bring you both a cuppa along with a glass of milk for Harry when he wakes. You really should wake him up soon. He'll never sleep tonight if you let him sleep much longer. It's barely noon."
"So I've heard," said Sherlock dully.
John went up the stairs first so he could open the door at the top and Sherlock followed him carefully up the stairs, probably for the first time since they moved into the flat.
Once they entered the living room area of the flat, Sherlock thought about where he should put Harry before he mentally shrugged and started to head towards his own room when John's voice stopped him.
"Where are you going?" asked John sounding curious having watched Sherlock while he stood and had a silent debate with himself.
"To lay Harry on my bed," said Sherlock in his you-are-being-an-idiot-can't-you-tell voice.
"So when he wakes up, he panics because he's in a completely unfamiliar space? No. Lay him down on the couch," said John pointing without looking at it.
"Where? It's completely unusable," said Sherlock with a raised eyebrow.
"What? No it's not," said John, he had cleaned it, he was sure before they left the flat yesterday. Then he looked at the mess that was on the couch and sighed. He wasn't kidding before. Their flat needed to be cleaned and child-proofed.
Sherlock simply looked at John but before Sherlock could do or say anything, John walked over to the couch and cleared it with one simple long swipe of his arm, everything landing on the floor in a large pile, and then looked at Sherlock, daring him to say something.
Sherlock continued to look at him before he laid Harry carefully down and said, "You ruined an experiment I had going."
"You ruined a perfectly good pair of trousers," replied John.
"Oh," said Mrs. Hudson looking at them, surprised, as she came in with the tea.
John sighed. He just couldn't win with conversations like this. It always seemed Mrs. Hudson walked in and took something he said the wrong way. He loved her for it though and John watched as she registered that he had on a new pair of trousers, no doubt coming to the wrong conclusion on what had happened.
As if Mrs. Hudson hadn't interrupted, Sherlock said, "Don't worry, John. I have a way to make it up to you."
"Make it up to me?" repeated John as if Sherlock could never make up for the trauma he had put John through and Mrs. Hudson went into their kitchen area to set down the tea, talking to herself.
"Yes, code three eight two one four dash B dash Z," replied Sherlock.
"Code what?" repeated John confused.
Sherlock grinned at him and said, "Apparently Mycroft has a code for everything I do!"
"Even if you –" started John.
"Yes, it is code five eight two dash C," said Sherlock nodding his head.
"What if you –" continued John.
Sherlock nodded again and said, "It is code one eight four seven dash Y dash A."
John thought for a moment before he said, "And what if you –"
Sherlock nodded a third time and said, "I suspect so though I don't plan on burning down the flat anytime soon."
"You better not Sherlock Holmes!" said Mrs. Hudson at once looking around the barrier.
"Where would we live if I did that, Mrs. Hudson?" asked Sherlock as if it were the most obvious thing.
Harry slept on as if he were oblivious to the whole conversation and John was now hoping that that was not a toxic experiment that he ruined.
"It wasn't," said Sherlock at once, reading the thought as it passed over John's face.
John looked at him.
"I wouldn't have laid him down there if I had let you swipe off bio-hazardous materials just seconds before. Give me some credit," said Sherlock with a slight scowl.
John just continued to look at him.
Sherlock made a noise and went to get a cup of tea from Mrs. Hudson who had also brought biscuits. He needed the extra caffeine and sugar since he didn't sleep last night or the night before and he was starting to feel it.
After a moment, Mrs. Hudson said, "You boys really should wake him up. I remember Mrs. Turner, next door, saying about how if her grandchildren slept too long during the day, her children had a hard time getting them to sleep during the night."
John and Sherlock exchanged a look before Sherlock pointedly looked away and moved towards the window as if he could get away from the conversation.
John awkwardly cleared his throat and said, "Er – Mrs. Hudson. How does one wake a sleeping child?"
Mrs. Hudson laughed, sure that John and Sherlock were teasing until she realized she was the only one laughing and then she stopped when she realized they were serious. She hid a grin.
"Well, John. That is something everyone has to work out for themselves. How did your parents use to wake you up? Think about it," said Mrs. Hudson and she left the flat, chuckling to herself.
Sherlock looked at John panicked and said, "How are we suppose to wake him up?"
John looked at him and said, "How did your parents wake you up?"
"Mycroft."
"What?"
"They sent Mycroft," explained Sherlock further. He even gave a shudder for dramatic effect.
John stared at him.
"Yes, that was my reaction as well when I woke up," said Sherlock nodding his head in agreement to John's look.
"You're not going to subject poor Harry to that are you?" asked John and he sounded and looked serious.
"Be serious, John," said Sherlock as his new phone, which one of Mycroft's people had pushed on him and John as they left his office, chimed which he ignored.
"I am," said John, still looking serious and Sherlock's phone chimed again which was, again, promptly ignored.
"Hmm, we will have to check the flat for listening devices again," said Sherlock as if commenting on the weather.
"Sherlock," said John.
"It's not my fault, John," said Sherlock and John just looked at him.
"You're stalling," said John and now he was grinning.
"Well, why don't you wake him up?" asked Sherlock.
"He's more comfortable with you," pointed out John.
"Hmm…" said Sherlock.
He looked around the room before he went over to the fireplace and picked up the skull. John quickly intercepted him, took the skull off him with a look and put it back on the fireplace.
"No one wants to wake up to that looking at them, Sherlock. You'll give him nightmares," said John.
Sherlock ignored him but he left the skull where John put it, looking around the room again before picking up a random stick that happened to be in the flat.
"You can't poke him with a stick either!" said John taking the stick off him.
"Well how am I suppose to wake him up then!" said Sherlock, sounding exasperated.
John's response was cut off, however, by giggling that was coming from the couch. Sherlock and John froze and slowly turned towards the sound, John still holding the stick. Harry was sitting up on the couch now and watching them, amusement clear as day on his face, though he was squinting at them as Sherlock still had his glasses in his pocket.
Sherlock and John exchanged a look before John dropped the stick and they both moved over to Harry who stopped laughing and was watching them carefully now.
Lestrade stood outside the pub and stared at it after he got out of the taxi, his own car waiting for him back at Scotland Yard courtesy of Sergeant Donovan picking it up from Baker Street for him. He hadn't been anywhere near this pub or anything like it since that night. He sighed. Those Holmes really had no idea what they were asking of him. They didn't truly understand.
He ignored the mutterings he heard from passersby that he was staring at nothing. If they only knew.
He took a deep breath, opened the door of The Leaky Cauldron, walked inside and went straight to the bar. He might as well get a drink.
"Well if it isn't Gregory Lestrange," said a voice in greeting.
After Mycroft sent those two texts to Sherlock, honestly telling Doctor Watson that, he went back to the reports on Harry's family, the bank situation checking out exactly how Sherlock, Lestrade and John had said or as far as he could tell. There were no cameras inside the vault, which would be remedied when he had the bank remodeled.
He flipped through another page of reports on Harry's family's friends reading and thought that Sherlock really had no need to be in that bank to begin with. It wasn't even his bank or the Detective Inspector's and come tomorrow, it wouldn't be John's either. Mycroft would make sure of it if Sherlock didn't.
Mycroft then frowned at what he saw in the packet prepared for him, or what he didn't see.
He picked up the phone, dialed his assistant's number and said, "Anthea? Come here for a moment." He then hung up without waiting for a response.
While waiting for Anthea to come to the office, he continued to flip through the packet, still frowning and reading and when there was a knock on his door, he said, "Enter," without looking up from it.
"Anthea? There is a report missing," said Mycroft getting right to the point by pointing out exactly what was missing.
Anthea looked at what Mycroft was pointing at to make sure she was on the same page and said, "No, sir. There isn't. There never was one."
"Never was one," parroted Mycroft back, sounding stumped. "You mean –"
"Yes, sir," said Anthea nodding her head at once, not needing him to finish.
Mycroft scowled and said, "Get me an appointment set up with their Legal Department as well. I only want to speak to someone who can get me out there. I would rather speak to him."
Anthea looked hesitant and said, "You think he's still –"
"It doesn't matter if he is or isn't. The truth is in there somewhere and only he knows it at this point. Honestly how they sent him there without finding out for certain… Get me the appointment set up right away."
"Yes, sir," said Anthea and she left to make the appointments, her phone back in her office.
Mycroft let out a sigh. There was trouble already and Harry wasn't even in Sherlock's custody for more than two hours tops. Though this one wasn't his fault granted.
Mycroft scowled at the incomplete report in front of him. It was no wonder they were in the trouble they were in the past couple of years if this is what happened to their people. Though if he was guilty Mycroft wouldn't say another word, however, if he was innocent… There might be a job offer if he was sane enough…
Yes, Mycroft thought as he looked at the reports he did have, the man certainly did have the skills and creativity and not to mention a certain ruthlessness…
One thing was certain, though, Mycroft needed the appointment to go to Azkaban to question Sirius Black.
"It's done, sir. I even managed to hit one other person," said the sniper in front of his boss' desk.
"Excellent," said Moriarty with a grin. "Now the great game can truly begin. Let's get to work. We have a lot to prepare..."