"Please?"
"No." The puppy dog eyes returned and John glared at Sherlock.
"Just this once? Come on, you know it'll be funny. Well Mycroft won't think that way, but who cares about him?" Sherlock begged.
John refused to give in. "Sherlock you cannot wear nothing, but a sheet to the heart of the British nation! I'd be a fool to let you! Go put on some real clothes NOW!"
Now Sherlock was glaring at John. Making an extremely childish face at him, he walked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. John sighed and flopped in his chair. How in the world was he in love with this, this psychopath?
He could hear it now, Sherlock telling him he was not a psychopath, but a high-functioning sociopath. Chuckling at the thought, he shook his head.
"You might have been a sociopath once upon a time, but you are not now. More like a big cuddly bear," I said aloud to myself. "Yes a big cuddly teddy bear. That is how you describe the great all-seeing Sherlock Holmes," I chuckled, unable to rid the mental image from my mind.
Sherlock came out, dressed in nicer clothes. Nicer being a relivant term of course.
"At least it's not a sheet," John mumbled. "Ready to go?"
Sherlock looked mildly annoyed. "If I must."
"If makes you feel any better, I have to go too."
"It doesn't, but thank you anyway. I appreciate the effort," he smirked at John.
John tossed Sherlock's coat at him, and Sherlock snatched it greedily. Putting on his own coat, he rolled his eyes as Sherlock turned up the collar.
"Why?"
"Why what?" Sherlock cocked an eyebrow.
John rolled his eyes again. "Why must you act like a show off all the time?"
"Because John, that's what I am. I am a show off. That's what I do," the two clambered down the stairs together.
"No Sherlock. Last time I checked you were a detective." John walked around to the other side of the waiting car, opening the door to slid in.
Sherlock looked earnestly at him. "And last time I checked you were a solider, not an assistant for a detective."
Rolling his eyes one last time, John and Sherlock slid into the car, and shut the doors. The car started and they were off to Buckingham Palace. Thankfully Sherlock wasn't in a bed sheet this time.
"Sherlock, Dr. Watson. Nice to see you again." Mycroft addressed them as they walked in. "Thank you for bringing him in something more than last time."
Sherlock scoffed and sat down. "Enough chit chat. What was so important you couldn't come to us? I really don't have the time for this right now."
"Nonsense. You don't have a single case. You're going to take this case. Now please, allow me to explain. Her name Sharia Morn. In the last five months, she's bombed three buildings, robbed seven banks, hacked MI-5 security twice, and killed nineteen high up government officials. She's done this all by, herself. She's a dangerous monster and will do anything to get her way. We didn't want to get you unnecessarily involved, but with her latest movements, we find it in our best interests to get you on the case. If you find her, I'll make sure you get a hearty reward. If you take her down, you'll both be knighted and have whatever you want. If you bring her back alive, that's fine with us. If you bring her back dead though. That's even better. We want this woman gone," Mycroft spoke with such disgust you might've thoughts she was the devil herself. "So in short, find Sharia Morn, take her down or bring her in, and this'll all be over. That's all we request. It'll be dangerous, but do you accept?"
Sherlock's eyes twinkled with excitement. "We accept. Where was she last seen?"
Mycroft allowed a small smile to flirt across his face. "John, if you'll please follow Mr. Paljor over there to retrieve the information you'll need, I do wish to speak to my brother."
John left, following said person and Sherlock stood to face Mycroft. "Well?"
"How did the proposal go?" his brother questioned.
"He said no. Apparently we need longer than four months dating and a year and a half of merely just living together before we try to get married. He also thinks no one knows we're dating. So he obviously hasn't realized you know," Sherlock scowled slighted, a small sigh escaping.
Mycroft frowned. "I'm sorry Sherlock, but it may be for the best including this case I have for you. It will most likely prove to be fatal. But don't say anything to John, as I may be wrong. Though I would prepare to die," his voice sounded softer than how he normally talked to Sherlock.
"Oh," was all Sherlock could manage. "Okay."
A tear slipped out and Mycroft was quick to catch it. "Don't worry. I promise to take care of the doctor. I never hated you, and I don't plan to start now."
Sherlock cast his eyes downward. "I know. Thank you Mycroft."
John walked up, a cream colored folder under his arm. "Ready to go Sherlock?" he questioned.
"I'm ready."
The two walked out, discreetly grasping each other's hands. John was smiling, and Sherlock. Sherlock was dreading what he was going to have to tell John when they were back at the flat.
Hello everyone! Thank you for the review and I hope you enjoyed. Please review!
~Jaliee Holmes