The black cab pulled up to the address, Sherlock stepped out and held the door open for the two confused women. He paid the driver and stepped up onto the pathway. "Shall we?" He opened the door to 221 B. Molly and Rachel followed.
"Would you care to tell me what exactly is going on?" Rachel was exasperated. She made it a rule to never go home with a man that she just met, but he had made it evident that they were in particular danger. What form of danger, she was unsure of.
"I'll be the one asking the questions for now." Sherlock was to the point. She followed Sherlock up the stairs, round the corner and into the door of his flat. She took in the room, her eyes scanning everything as he closed the door behind her. Clearly, he was single. There would be no way a woman would allow such chaos to exist in a living space. He motioned the ladies to the couch where they sat simultaneously. From this view, she was examining the fireplace in front of her. A skull sat atop the mantle, and the fireplace was framed with countless books.
"Very well then. Who are you?" Sherlock paced back and forth in front of the two ladies who sat slack-jawed.
"Rachel Westmoore…"
"No, no, I know that. Please, where are you from, who were your parents, why was Molly running your DNA?" Sherlock was trying to remain patient, but found it difficult when people did not answer the questions in the way he wanted.
"I am from Florida, was here on holiday with my parents. They were Martha and James. Molly was running my DNA to find out who my biological parents were." Rachel decided to explain further so as not to incite more questions. "I found out last week that I was adopted, my biological mother was found dead shortly after my adoption. She was from the U.K.. I was hoping that perhaps we could find my biological father and I could get some questions answered." Rachel drew in a sharp breath, hoping her explanation would be sufficient.
Sherlock was looking at the window, a black sedan had pulled up. "Right on time." he said to no one in particular. The room remained quiet for the moment. Sherlock stepped away from the window to face the door.
The door open, and an older man stepped through. He had some similarities to Sherlock, but was not nearly as handsome as he, Rachel observed.
"Mycroft, so predictable of you to come." Sherlock sneered at him a bit.
"Sherlock, you've been behaving poorly again. You know better than to try and enter my passwords when restricted information comes up." Mycroft smiled. "Particularly when it involves the integrity of our nation." He looked over to Rachel. "You must be Ms. Westmoore. Pleasure to meet you under other circumstances I am sure." He turned back to Sherlock now. "Keep her hidden, she has been flagged. She will not be allowed to leave the country. MI6 will be looking for her. I find her to be, less than threatening, the monarchy, on the other hand, may not agree." He casually checked his pocket watch and moved across the room to look out the window. "There are a great many secrets that this country hold, but I promise you, Sherlock, this is not one that you want to get into."
Sherlock was now sitting in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, and his fingers steepled under his chin. He was beyond intrigued now.
"The only information that I can provide you, Ms. Westmoore, is that your biological father passed away, unfortunately, not long after you were born." Mycroft turned back to her, looking her directly in the eye. Molly was motionless. "Miss Hooper, you may return to your work. I must recommend, however, that you do not further the processing of Miss Westmoore's DNA. I can guarantee dead ends." He walked to the door. "Good day, Sherlock, remember, she is your responsibility now." The door closed, and everyone in the room remained silent for some time after.
"Who was that?" Rachel asked. Sherlock and Molly answered together as a chorus, "Mycroft."
"Who?"
"Only my older brother. Nothing of consequence." Sherlock was already three steps ahead of what Rachel may be considering. He swiftly moved to his computer and began typing away. Rachel looked stunned.
"Oh, forgive me, I'm being rude. Would you like some tea?" Sherlock asked, without looking up.
"That would be wonderful." Rachel said, staring blankly into the wall.
"Right then." Sherlock said plainly before shouting, "Mrs. Hudson, tea!"
Rachel jumped. Her nerves were already shot, and the shouting had frayed the last of them. Sherlock rose from his chair, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He sent a text, Rachel had guessed from the way he had moved his hands. "John will be on his way."
Rachel couldn't help but notice the way that Molly was staring at Sherlock. This must have been the man that she had heard so much about from her. Rachel could understand her fascination with the man. He was attractive, but more than that, it was his intelligence that was so appealing.
"Molly, go to the hospital and bring back miss Westmoore's things. She will be staying in John's old flat upstairs."
There you have it. A short, but telling chapter. Please review, and let me know, should next chapter be in Sherlock's perspective?