Listen, do you hear them drawing near in their search for the sinners? Feeding on the power of our fear and the evil within us.
THE DIOGENES CLUB BUNKER
Sherlock heaved himself up and out into the room. He took a quick note of all those assembled. Along with Mycroft there were the Watson's with their baby daughter, Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, and somewhat surprisingly Billy Wiggins. He stood apart from the others, looking nervy and on edge.
"Sherlock!" John cried, relief clear in his voice, though his face registered concern as he asked. "Do you know if…?"
Sherlock didn't respond, instead he bent down and offered his hand as he assisted Molly out of the tunnel. "Welcome to The Diogenes Club Bunker," he said, indicating the room with a flourish of his hand. "The most secure place in London."
The next few minutes were spent with everyone, save Mycroft, assuring themselves that their friends were truly there and safe.
It was brought to a premature end when Mycroft stated. "Since you are now back in civilised company," he paused as he turned a withering glance at Wiggins. "Well, almost all civilised, brother mine, perhaps you might do us all the courtesy of taking a shower, and shaving."
Sherlock didn't bother with a response he simply made his way over to the bunkers small bathroom.
As he opened the door he casually threw over his shoulder "I do hope you have a change of clothes hidden away somewhere for me, blood." And with that he shut the door firmly behind him.
Five minutes after the shower was turned off Molly softly knocked on the bathroom door before entering with the requested change of clothes, only to come to an abrupt halt.
Sherlock stood before the mirror, shaving.
Molly's eyes wandered over his slight, but muscular frame, the scattering of hair on his chest that didn't quite hide the scar where he'd been shot.
Surgery, he'd called it.
Her gaze then slipped down until it settled on the small towel that was only barely secured around his slim hips.
"I'll take those," Sherlock's rich baritone vibrated around the room and through her quivering frame.
Molly's head snapped up, meeting his knowing look in the mirror.
He wiggled the fingers of his hand that he had stretched out towards her.
"Of… of course," she stammered, blushing furiously as she handed him his clothes before turning and bolting out of the room.
When Sherlock emerged from the bathroom, no sign of the addict existed. His attire immaculate, he face clean-shaven and his hair freshly shampooed. The world's only Consulting Detective had returned.
As much as she loved his current look Molly couldn't help but let a little sigh of disappointment escape her lips. There was just something about a rougher, unkempt Sherlock. It made him appear more dangerous, and more unpredictable than usual. But it was no more. Goodbye Pirate.
Sherlock was just making his way past her, when he paused. Turning her to face him he lent down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his thumbs rubbing soothingly over the exposed flesh between her neck and shoulders. Stepping back he gave her a wink before heading over to Mycroft.
It left Molly wondering if she'd inadvertently spoken aloud. But from the bemused and somewhat perplexed looks they were receiving from the others in the room, it was clear he'd just used his deductive skills.
And for that she was, for once, greatly relieved.
Everyone had gravitated over to the Holmes brothers. If anyone could find a solution to the current situation, it was going to be them.
But as was usually the case when Sherlock and Mycroft were in the same room, they were having a difference of opinion, several in fact.
"What is being done to contain the situation?" Sherlock demanded. It was clear by his tone that he wasn't receiving satisfactory responses from his brother.
Mycroft let out a resigned sigh; his expression clearly indicated he saw little point to his brother's line of questioning. "As I'm sure Miss Hooper…"
"Doctor Hooper," Sherlock corrected sharply.
"As I'm sure Doctor Hooper has already advised you, a diplomatic solution was attempted. But the Martian's murdered them outright and have seen fit to destroy all avenues of defence."
"I know all that," Sherlock interrupted peevishly. "I want to know what has been attempted since then?"
Sherlock's tone struck a nerve and Mycroft reacted accordingly.
"While you, brother mine, were under the euphoric influence of whatever illegal narcotic had you in its thrall," Mycroft all but spat. "These Martian's have been busy. Not only decimating our military capabilities, communications, power and food resources, they have now built new machines with large baskets."
"To what purpose?" Sherlock asked, though he already had a number of ideas, none of them good.
"To capture and collect any foolish individual stupid enough to make themselves known," came the curt response.
John now took over the explanation. "From what we've been able to ascertain from a small number of witnesses. The Martians have been draining the blood of those they capture and have been injecting the blood into their own veins."
"So they are finding it difficult to adapt to our atmosphere," Sherlock noted. "That is interesting…"
"It is a disgusting and repugnant abuse of innocent individuals," Mycroft snarled, his usually calm demeanour momentarily absent.
Sherlock closed his eyes, took several deep breaths before opening his eyes once again.
"So what are The Powers That Be, and in this case I mean you, intend to do to protect the Earth and its citizens?"
Mycroft didn't waiver under Sherlock's gaze. Having regained his composure he looked his brother in the eye as he stated coolly. "Analysis of the situation leads to only one possible conclusion. We have to use the only means we have left to destroy the invaders."
Those assembled became hopeful at Mycroft's words. It seemed too good to be true that he knew of a way to win against the Martians. But their eagerness was tempered when they saw the stricken look on Sherlock's face.
"Mycroft, you can't," he pleaded, his pale features almost translucent as what colour remained washed away. "You can't use Thunder Child."
