Back at Baker Street, the pathologist and the assassin turned pregnant wife were contemplating and musing about what they thought Sherlock must have been like.
Mary chortled, "He must have been just a terror. Imagine all his idiosyncrasies but in a ten year old.
Molly giggled at the visual image of Sherlock as a young boy. She imagined him getting into all sorts of trouble with wayward experiments in his family's house—which she found adorable…which lead her to blushing.
Mary picked up on her newest friend's embarrassment. "Oh Molly," she rubbed Molly's forearm making the blush fade from her face, "you shouldn't go red about that, I'm sure Sherlock was a right hellion as a child."
Just then the door to the flat opened and the holy terror himself stepped in the room to defend himself, "I'll have you know that eighty percent of Holmes' found me to be adorable as a child."
Molly's blush returned with a vengeance and John followed the detective, stepping over to his wife to give her a kiss before saying, "Oh yeah, who's the hold out? Mycroft?"
It was Sherlock's turn to be a bit embarrassed. He turned away to hang up his coat and scarf, "He had little appreciation for many of my youthful antics. Many times I was caught investigating his activities and he would resort to violence against my head."
Mary and John each gave a very attractive snort of laughter while Sherlock frowned at them. When they were finished the detective looked at his watch apprehensively.
"She's due soon?" John asked kindly and Sherlock nodded sharply.
Molly piped up, "Is there anything we should know about her? I'd hate to say the wrong thing."
John quickly added one of the bits of information he learned earlier about the mysterious Holmes sister as he could see the thought on Sherlock's face that meant that he was about to say something regretful about Molly saying the wrong thing, "Yeah, apparently she's an assassin. She'll be in good company then."
Mary smiled but she was still a bit raw from the five month long strife that she and John had just patched up. She was happy that he could joke about it though. Probably his way of making the idea that his wife and mother of his child had a very interesting past more comfortable in his mind. So she gave a cheeky reply to her husband's statement, "Oh really? With an agency or is she freelance? Might ask for her services if John can't learn keep his pants in the laundry hamper."
Sherlock scowled at the couple, "She is MI6, and she tells me that those 'services' are very limited. Mycroft is usually in charge of her missions so most of her tasks are intelligence oriented. She is quite brilliant. Not as smart as I am, but she has a bit more skill in social interactions."
"Oh so she's not a pompous git?" The question came from the mouth of the pathologist as evidenced by her hand covering the offending orifice and the crimson that her face had turned, but the group could hardly believe that Molly would say such a thing. This, of course, caused the Watsons to enter into a laughing fit while Sherlock finally shut his surprised mouth and let his lips smirk at the situation.
They were interrupted by the doorbell that suspiciously sounded like it was in the refrigerator, and Sherlock opened the door with a fury and sprinted down the stairs.
The plane touched down not a minute past two hours and a triumphant, "I TOLD YOU!" burst past the closed flight deck door to be heard by the passengers. Once the plane was settled, Adelaide gently fought past the flight crew and its bumbling Capitan and onto the tarmac without having to make empty promises of keeping in touch. A black town car was ominously waiting for her with a woman who refused to look up from her phone standing next to it. Apparently, what she was tapping through on the device was far more interesting than picking up a MI6 agent. Good lord, Mycroft. What do you have these people doing?
She approached the car with Mark and Collin striding ahead and behind her. The woman barely looked up at the men, "You two will be staying here to wait for another car. I have been told you will receive new assignments." Mark quickly walked off to the airport building but Collin hesitantly stepped aside, peering at Adelaide like he was worried about something. What is he—oh. Sentiment. Mycroft will have a field day if he knew about that. Adelaide thought to herself.
Then the man spoke with caring eyes, "Good luck." Collin had gotten a bit attached to his charge, that was not a good condition to find yourself in within his field of work but she felt a twinge that signalled that she appreciated the genuinity of his well-wish.
Adelaide nodded, "To you as well," returning his statement. They were both going to need it. Collin gave her a last look and went to follow Mark. With her former handlers gone she returned her attention to her new one. The woman had finally tore herself away from her crack-berry and was now scanning her up and down. So I am worth paying attention to. I bet she has lost hours and days implementing Mycroft's plans for her. Wants to see what makes this particular agent so special.
Adelaide caught the woman's eye, then she finally spoke to her. "I am Anthea. Mr. Holmes is waiting for you in the car."
Adelaide opened the car door herself and sat down next to her eldest sibling. The door shut behind her and Anthea moved to sit in the front of the car with the driver instead of joining them in the back shortly before the car started to move.
She could most certainly say that she had seen her brother in better condition. He was composed in a fine suit and not a hair was out of place, but the worry he had in his eyes was the worst he had ever seen it. He caught her gaze and like a mask, the ice returned to his eyes. All business now and Adelaide returned the favour with her first words to him.
"So, what is the mission now? I'm in London so you must be desperate for something to be done. I am at your disposal," she gave a small flourish with her hand and Mycroft's face softened a bit. Well, it was softened with irritation and annoyance, but she broke his demeanour a fraction and was pleased.
"This mission is particularly personal, Adelaide. You will be required to present as much strength and restraint as you have ever done." Mycroft shut down the small teasing that she had flaunted.
Personal? Mycroft doesn't let me do 'personal'. Oh god, what has happened to Sherlock? Something with that little shit of a man, Moriarty. Bastard had better not—
Mycroft interrupted her thoughts, seeing them plainly upon her face. "I just noted that you will need restraint and looks of raw fury will give you away. Our brother is very intuitive and will see through you if you aren't careful."
"What is going on, Mycroft?"
Mycroft explained the message from this morning and that Sherlock and John Watson had been revisiting old haunts for clues. "You will be assisting Sherlock in this case." Mycroft paused like it pained him to say that.
"Why? Why now after I've been here, there and everywhere else do you now send me to the one person didn't want me to be near," Adelaide questioned while she tried holding back her frustration and anger.
He retorted, "Did I not return you to the United Kingdom for you to look after him? I wanted you here doing the work."
"Clearly not. You gave me months of feeble excuses, Mycroft. Months I was holed up in the worst part of this country and the constant stream of weak reasons for delay flowed from you. What do you want me to do in this mess you find yourself calling me down to be at the side of Sherlock?"
Mycroft cracked his composure and actually shouted, "He wants you!" Embarrassed he tried to regain himself. "He requested you and it made to hasten your return to London. You have information that he deems unique and cannot be achieved by any other means that will satisfy him. Therefore you are here and will be at Baker Street shortly."
"And you just gave into his demands? Middle-age is wearing your resilience thin." Adelaide went back to being snarky. Picking out Mycroft's flaws had been something she looked forward to when meeting him. It reminded him that he was still a human being like the rest of earth's inhabitants.
Mycroft looked down at the floorboard and said quietly, "It is in all of our best interests for this to occur."
Adelaide was deposited in front of 221 Baker Street. Mycroft had thoroughly briefed her and supplied a mobile for her to use to keep in contact with him, saying it was because Sherlock was such rubbish at keeping him in the loop. She debated whether or not she would.
Composing herself, she stepped up to the black varnished door and rang the bell. Adelaide was about to use the knocker, thinking perhaps the bell was faulty when the door opened and revealed the person she had been longing to see for so long.
A/n: sorry for the late update and that this is short. I have more stuff ready to post later this week. please review!