Chapter 9: A Smashing Time For A Video

It turns out that John had managed to gain custody of me temporarily, to my disbelief. I'd only known the man for a few hours (had it really only been that long? It seemed like days) but I had been entrusted in his care without any delay. Dare I suspect higher powers coming into play here?

Not the religious sort - the major-position-in-the-government sort. But I couldn't for the life of me (as long as it was) think of who it might be. I had reason to suspect Sherlock's coldness ran in the family- even if it was his brother that was pulling strings, what would he stand to gain by placing me with John?

My inner turmoil over my custodial placement could not be seen from the outside- in fact, the only person I'd met so far that would even have the slightest idea of what was going through my head was Sherlock, who had, apparently, been deducing the lives of others since he could talk. This didn't surprise me- my brother had been much the same.

I, however, had been gifted with what tact I had from my mother, whose name still escaped me. I was still scared at the thought of my lost memories, but this was far from the initial mind-numbing shock I had felt at this revelation.

Due to my thoughts, the majority of the cab ride home was spent in silence. Molly had opted to remain at the hospital, leaving me, Sherlock and John to catch a single cab home. Having run out of things that wouldn't cause me emotional pain to consider, I took to examining the taxi driver. His hair and stature seemed rather familiar, almost identical to that of the man who had knocked me over in the cafe. But of course, then I had to glimpse in the mirror, How right I was.

"You right there, sweetheart?" he asked in an Irish drawl. I gave a sickeningly sweet smile in return.

"Fine, thank you, sir," I said, narrowing my eyes.

He smirked, as if to say, 'Oh, I'll have fun with you.' And I had almost no doubt he would.

"Everything alright?" John asked, breaking out of whatever reverie he had entered.

I nodded as the cab slowed, coming to a halt outside 221B. I stood back as John unlocked the flat, then ran in ahead of him, dodging the landlady and dashing up the stairs, taking two at a time. When I reached the top, I cast my gaze towards the corner of the ceiling. Yes, there it was- a camera, directed at the area in front of the door to 221B. I cocked my head- was this Sherlock's brother's doing?

John, who had at this point arrived behind me, followed my line of sight before giving a soft, 'oh'.

He turned to call down the stairs, "Sherlock! You missed one!"

The detective in question came up the stairs at a leisurely pace and, once arriving at the landing, cast a scowl towards the camera in question.

"There's always one," he bemoaned in a whisper and I giggled. He scowled at me and I smirked.

I looked back at the camera, which had turned to face me; signifying that someone was watching.

I raised an eyebrow. "Your brother?" I questioned Sherlock and he reluctantly nodded before beginning to sulk – he couldn't reach the camera.

John was watching us with an amused air. I decided the cause of his amusement was most probably because I was so much like the esteemed detective. Either that, or because he had fond memories regarding the sibling rivalry.

"What does he do?" I asked John, as Sherlock had decided us unworthy of speech.

"He holds- wait, what was it? Oh, yes, a 'minor position in the government'" he said, putting verbal quotation marks around the, 'minor position in the government'.

I had very strong doubts that the position Sherlock's brother held would be anything under extremely powerful. John and I went into 221b as Sherlock gave a triumphant cry; he'd managed to smash the lens in with a broom.

Edit: 25.2.16