Firstly, I am so, so sorry for the long wait, I had kind of a writers block on this part of the story and was writing an a part nearer the end... Yes, I have already written that, but I have trouble with this middle part, them hunting down the threads. Any ideas? Anyway, let's get on with chapter eight!
Dinner is served nearly two hours later, and I can only stare. Even though we are only three people, Mycroft, Sherlock and me, there is a cold buffet as well as a warm one. The tables are full with all kinds of cheese, strong, mild, in at least five different colours, all kinds of meat are on plates, salami, ham, pâté, chicken breast cut in thin slices, grapes make a strange contrast with their green plumpness, shining slightly in the light. On the next table there are are little plates with dips, sauces, cream cheese and cut vegetable as well as some crackers. In the basket there are different kinds of bread, white, brown, really dark ones, toast, freshly baked bread, bagels, smelling deliciously.
In the bowls and little pots and pans are soups, a mild sauce and some meat, as well as vegetables and herbs, put together beautifully. Mushrooms and beans and broccoli and potatoes make my mouth water, and while Mycroft and Sherlock are just sitting down, I am still looking around, until Mycroft calls me.
"Miss Moriarty, sit down, will you, please?"
I blush slightly and sit down, and am surprised when the butler, Thomas, comes to the table with a tray with cups, saucers, tea, milk, sugar, hot-chocolate and coffee.
Twenty minutes later I lean back, enjoying the last bites of my dinner. Even though I had wanted to only small portions and had cheated sometimes, I still managed to try everything and feel comfortably full now. Sherlock has stopped eating ten minutes ago, to my surprise he actually ate something, and we are both smirking about the huge amount of food that is still on Mycroft's plate.
Nearly an hour later we are sitting in Mycroft's study. It is a nice room, big, but not overly so, and classic. We are all looking at the big, flat computer screen, where Mycroft has pictures of potential suspects, people, who could know where Jennifer Stone and her deputy James Smith are.
I have never seen any of them before, and that sets us back a lot. I am the only real connection Mycroft and Sherlock have to the threads because I am the only one who has or had contacts or memories with them.
After ten more minutes I go to bed.
My phone wakes me in the morning. It's still dark outside, so I just touch the screen until the ringing stops because I just can't be bothered to get up.
The next time I wake up is because of Sherlock. The sudden cold when he pulls the blanket away makes me jump, and instinctively I hit him. Only barely he blocks it, but it obviously still hurts and he knocks my phone down in the process.
"Sherlock, what the hell!"
My heart is beating incredibly fast, I could have killed him! He looks surprised and slightly shocked, I don't think he expected me to react like that. But he forgot that I am the daughter of Jim Moriarty, the consulting criminal. I was trained my whole life, that were instincts.
"My god, Kiara!" He tries to hide it, but his voice sounds shaky.
"Sherlock, you can't just wake me up like that!" I am breathing heavily and lean down to pick my phone up. I quickly look at the screen to check whether it's all right and not broken, when I see what's on it.
"Sherlock. Sherlock, look!" I breathe and I can't help smiling. When my phone woke me up before, I had, to turn it off, touched the screen. I must have touched the fail-safe app, because that was exactly where I was.
And right at the top was a button called 'Network'.
I hope you liked it, just leave a review if you do, the next chapter will hopefully be longer and come quicker...
~Valkyrie