Chapter 3 Questions

AN: My dear readers, thanks for your kind reviews despite some (grammar) mistakes I may have written down. Also thanks for the suggestions, I will give it some thought. I wish you all much reading fun (and my apologies in advance for the mistakes).

When both men came home, John immediately went to the kitchen to make some tea. He didn't bother to ask Sherlock if he wanted any. Sherlock had dropped himself on the sofa and had retreated himself into his mind palace. Despite that, John put a mug on the table next to him. He kept hoping. He set himself in his chair near the fireplace and grabbed the newspaper which had been lying on the side table. He didn't had the time this morning to read it. But it stayed on his lap, unopened. He thought about the events that happened that morning at St Barts. Well, events, just two guys, men actually. Man, he was starting to talk like Molly now. They were definitively men. And very attractive. He could understand why Molly adored them. Though he wasn't gay, he had eyes. He had seen. And man, that second fellow definitively was dangerous. Not only as a soldier but also in a sexual way. Did he and Molly had a relationship? Or did she had one with that other guy? Or did she had one with both, or with both at the same time? He took a sip of his tea. Well. That wasn't a nice thought was it. He loved Molly in a friendly way and he really hoped that one day she would find happiness, though he didn't believe that her dream to become Mrs. Holmes would come true, but to think that Molly would have an relationship with a killer. Bit not good. Then he really wished it was Sherlock, though he had told him at Angelo's that it wasn't really his area. Married to his work. Poor Molly. But now she told that 'Jack', that Sherlock wasn't interested in that stuff in the first place. Did she mean that? He knew she put that up to protect them from Jack's sexual 'attack'. If she meant that, than she knew that he wasn't interested in her in the first place. Then why fancy his friend? Thinking about the fact that she and those men should have been together, made him cringe. And now, Sherlock just quitted his experiment. That wasn't Sherlock. He never unfinished an experiment. Now he was lying on the couch, thinking. He probably wasn't thinking about Molly. Well, maybe a little, because she kept those men a secret. He was sure his friend tried to find answers about those two men in their long coats. He sighed. Despite the fact that he had noticed that the men were soldiers, he hadn't deduced anything. He wasn't Sherlock. But now Sherlock had confirmed that he couldn't tell anything, just that the first man had been extremely dangerous. And that the other fellow also was a soldier.

After an hour Sherlock opened his eyes again and lifted himself of the couch. He walked over to his desk and opened his laptop.

"Anything?" John asked.

"I need more information" Sherlock replied and started fanatically typing, not saying anything else.

John recognized his mood and kept himself quiet. He took both mugs and walked over the kitchen to fetch him and Sherlock another cup of tea. Sherlock hadn't drunk his first cup. He placed a new, hot one next to him. This time Sherlock took it without thinking. He leaned over Sherlock's shoulder to see what it was that Sherlock was typing.

"Really, John?"

John stepped away and went over to his seat again. He knew that Sherlock would tell, if he would find anything. At least he hoped. He knew that Sherlock also could keep his secrets.

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Sherlock had laid on the couch and thought about both men. He was really annoyed. Why couldn't he find anything. He only observed the facts about their cloths, being young and good looking. But his deduction was more off. Both warriors/soldiers, extremely dangerous and very dangerous and that 'Jack' was American and unisexual. But nothing more. That was the strangest part. They must have been involved in black ops or something (not Molly, maybe she was a witness then?) But if that fact was true, he should have noticed that, but he didn't. Both men didn't give anything away. He hadn't enough information. He needed more information.

He stood up from the couch and walked over to his laptop. Doctor wasn't the appropriate word to search the net. There would be to many hits. He took a sip of his tea. Mmm hot. The name Jack Harkness, captain should do the trick. But the screen stayed empty. So he tried to get access to some government files. (Mycroft wouldn't be pleased, but who cares.) Captain. That means, the man must be registered in the military archives. He got a hit when he entered 'captain Jack Harkness'. Alas, it was classified. Then he tried some other government files and searched for Doctor and Daleks. Also classified. In other government files the name of the captain appeared, but still classified. Mmm. Not only just a soldier then. Then he typed 'Doctor and Molly Hooper' not really thinking there would be a match. His screen said otherwise. File classified. WHAT? What had she done those fifteen years ago? What happened?

When he thought this over, his phone rang.

"Hello, brother, may I congratulate you with your successful experiment. I assume that you're bored now and out of books, and that you're trying to find a case by scanning our government files. I strongly advise you to stop searching whatever you are searching. I suggest you visit your detective inspector Lestrade."

Sherlock was taken aback a little by Mycroft's call. He hadn't suspected to get a reaction so soon. But then again, it was Mycroft. Surely he had protected those files for stranger's eyes. You could say, trying to make them 'Sherlock' proof. And, any unauthorized person searching them, would be traced down immediately.

"Mycroft, what can you tell me about the Doctor." It was a shot in the dark. Though Mycroft was the government, it didn't mean he knew all the contents of all the files, securely stored and locked away in Great Britain's huge database. Mycroft didn't reply immediately. That was a surprise. 'Jackpot'. He definitively heard a sigh before Mycroft began to speak.

"Sherlock, what kind of doctor do you need? I thought John did a good job patching you up every time you've got beaten up.

"You know, the Doctor. The man with an obsession for dark blue." Another shot.

"I strongly advise you to drop the search and stick to the files Lestrade gives you. You know, for snooping around in our files, you could be arrested and there is nothing I can do to prevent that."

With one click, the conversation was over.

Sherlock thought about the conversation. He knew now for sure that both the Doctor and the captain had been working for the government. But the files were sealed and there was no way to get access. This was so high that this was above Mycroft payroll. That, he never would have guessed. He knew there were a few things where Mycroft was the minion, but this? And Molly was acquainted with both men? Then Molly had to talk. He closed his laptop and walked over to his chair and steepled his hands under his chin.

"Was that Mycroft on the phone?" John looked at him.

"Obviously." Sherlock eyed John, but not really seeing him.

"What did he want?"

"To keep me away from his files, apparently."

"What, you were sniffing around in government files?" John sounded shocked.

"This is big John. Every file was classified. And to speak with your words, if I would sniff around any further, I would be arrested and it would be beyond Mycroft's help. So, we must find another way to retrieve this information."

John thought about this information. Our Molly had dealt with government business, all hush hush. Strange. He never thought Molly would be into something like that. "You know, you could ask Molly."

Sherlock scowled. "John, you noticed Molly's behaviour today. Do you think she would like to talk about them?"

"Sure she will."

Before Sherlock could ask how and why, the doorbell rang.

They heard voices and giggles from Mrs. Hudson. Then they heard footsteps on the stairs and the door opened. Sherlock first had thought it was Lestrade, but then again, he never made Mrs. Hudson laugh. Second a client, but then Mrs. Hudson would have introduced him. Third, a friend of John, but these were male footsteps. And John never had any male friend invited into their home. Maybe he had invited them, but they never visited him at home. The man who entered their home was the last man he would have guessed who would give them a visit.

"Hello, I was told to give you a visit. I believe you would like to know who I am?"

Sherlock looked at him as if he was expecting him anyhow but John looked thunderstrucked.

"How did you know," John stammered.

"Some Mycroft called me. Told me to give you a visit and make things clear." A big smile appeared on his face. "I'm happy to be of any service. ANY SERVICE." Then he gave them a wink and John knew exactly what kind of service he had in mind. Blimey, lethally charming.

"Captain, nice of you to drop by." Sherlock said in a voice as if he wasn't interested at all.

Before they knew it, the captain had took off his coat, dropped it on the sofa and walked over the kitchen and made tea for the three of them, Sherlock's eyes following him with every move. Then he came back with three mugs and gave them their tea. Then he settled down on the couch and said: "Well, we were introduced this morning but I will introduce myself again. I am captain Jack Harkness. I work for a secret organization. Of course I'm not allowed to say anything about that. You both can understand that. I have met Molly a few years ago. She was introduced to me by the Doctor. And yes, he does secret stuff to. We have worked together occasionally. A couple of years ago he was on a mission, then he met Molly and Molly helped him. Since then they are friends. When he is in town, he visits her. I'm sorry I am not allowed to tell you more.

"It is very friendly to come over all the way to give us this information, Mr. Harkness, Sherlock said in a dry tone, "but this was something we already figured out ourselves. I want to know more about you. Where do you come from. How did you became a soldier. Where were you stationed. And why England. You have an American accent."

"Like I told you, I'm sorry I can't tell you anything more. He took another sip of his tea. Mmm. My cup is empty. He looked at both cups from Sherlock and John. "More tea?" he asked.

"No thank you," Sherlock replied, squeezing his eyes. "You've drugged the tea," he stated, suddenly realising what had happened. How. He hadn't had taken his eyes of him when he made it.

Jack laughed. "I'm sorry. But when it comes to information that is not allowed to go out, we drug the person with retcon. It's a pill we developed. The person who takes it, forgets the last events that happened to him and everybody is happy. It has no side effect besides being sleepy.

"Retcon, retroactive continuity, alteration of previously established facts. Deletes our encounter. Clever."

"Yes, isn't it. Oh, and your tea had more. I was told you were accustomed to drugs. You will be more sleepier than John. Gentlemen, it was nice talking to you both. I have to go. Sweet dreams."

He stood up and put his coat on. He already saw John despite fighting his sleep, falling into dreamland. He noticed Sherlock looked more awake but his eyelids became heavy, heavier and...

Jack took up his cup and walked over to the kitchen. There he washed the cup and put in the cupboard. He walked back into the room, watched both men and sighed. Pity. Then he walked out to visit Mrs. Hudson, leaving two sleeping men behind.