Sherlock's mobile was buzzing, again. "Someone is trying really hard to get ahold of you," Rose commented. "Who's calling? If you've got a case on, we can continue another time. Don't want to deprive you of The Work." Her offer was accompanied by a smile.
The ID on Sherlock's mobile read 'Mycroft' and he swiped the screen to ignore the call for the seventh time. Eventually Mycroft would give up, surely! And be completely reasonable about the fact that he had borrowed Mycroft's car. It was for the baby after all! Or at least Sherlock hoped that would be the case. "Nothing like that," he assured his baby sister. "It can wait."
Rose hummed in response. "If you're sure. I really appreciate this, you know. You're so much easier to drive with than Mycroft. It makes a person nervous when the man sitting next to you is constantly worried you'll crash and die." She smiled and shook her head, not at all surprised Mycroft had been so uptight last time.
"Good! That's the point after all, to make you feel comfortable and get the practice in so you can take your driving exam." As they talked, Sherlock kept one eye on the road and the other on his mobile, swiping to decline answering an eighth call. Then, it seemed, Mycroft had given up as Sherlock's mobile stopped vibrating incessantly with repeated calls. Sherlock let out a little sigh of relief at the silence. The silence didn't last very long though. Just a few moments later, Wagner's 'Ride of the Valkyries' could be heard from Rose's mobile in her purse. "Whose ringtone is that?" he asked, hoping against hope it was not Mycroft's.
"My's. Seemed rather appropriate," Rose said, flashing him a cheeky grin. "It used to be Foreigner's 'Cold As Ice,' which I thought was hilariously fitting. My thought otherwise. He told me it was rude and to change it at once. I just didn't bother to tell him what I changed it to! Never any fun, our big brother. He can leave a voicemail and I'll call him back when we're finished." At the moment, she was focused on driving and intended to stay that way!
Back at Buckingham Palace, Mycroft deigned not to leave a message and began calling Rose's mobile as incessantly as he'd called Sherlock's. Rose, at least, would know it was in her best interest to answer it. Or perhaps they were trying to come up with a story about how exactly they thought to take his car without him ever noticing!
As he paced the room and continued making calls, the Queen continued to drink her tea, finding the entire situation incredibly amusing.
"If they scratch that car…" Mycroft growled to himself as he dialed again.
"Mycroft seems particularly insistent. Is that who was calling you?" Rose asked as her mobile went off for the sixth time. There wasn't time for Sherlock to respond though as the phone in Mycroft's car went off, making Rose yelp in surprise. "Mycroft is calling his car…" she murmured, making no move to touch the screen and answer it. After just a few seconds thought, Rose gave her brother a side-eye look. "Sherlock… What have you done?"
Immediately Sherlock was on the defense, giving her a huff and a trademark pout. "I haven't done anything!" At once he realized he'd answered too quickly and given himself away. They hadn't been troublemakers together for nothing; Rose knew him all too well.
Rose took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she contemplated what Sherlock may have done this time to annoy Mycroft and then it hit her. "Oh my god Sherlock, please don't tell me you stole Mycroft's car. Please, please tell me that's not why he's calling!"
"I wouldn't call it theft exactly," Sherlock responded slowly. "I didn't hotwire it. I used the proper keys. So really, not theft."
"No, I'm pretty sure theft is a black and white issue- and it certainly is to Mycroft. If he didn't give you permission to take his car, that is in fact stealing! God, how did I turn out so normal?" Rose wondered, exasperation heavy in her tone. She lightly punched his arm with her left hand before putting it back on the wheel, just as the car's phone stopped ringing. "If he calls back you better answer it. I wouldn't put it past him to call the police and report the car stolen. We're going to be in so much trouble and I didn't even do anything this time!" She huffed and threw him a pout.
Sure enough a moment later Mycroft called the car and Sherlock reluctantly pressed the button to accept the call, allowing Mycroft's angry face to appear on the screen. "Get off to the side of the road now!" Somewhere in the background they could hear a faint chuckle, the sound of which did nothing to improve their brother's countenance.
Rose looked over her shoulder and put on the turn signal to move onto the side of the road as ordered. "There, we're parked on the side of the road now. Mycroft, I-"
"Not a word!" Mycroft thundered. "I don't want to hear your excuses. How dare the pair of you steal my bloody car?!" Behind him, Mycroft could hear the Queen laughing but ignored it. She was the Queen after all and he had siblings to rein in.
"Seriously, I didn't!-" Rose tried once more.
"Rosenwyn. Aramantha. Holmes. You will be quiet," Mycroft interrupted, his tone low and dangerous. "I am incredibly disappointed in the both of you. This is a violation of trust and if either of you damaged my car in hotwiring it…" His voice trailed off but the threat was clear.
"Keys." Sherlock muttered.
"Oh, does the grown up in this scenario have something to add?" Mycroft inquired, quirking a dark brow. "Then again, this is hardly grown up behavior Sherlock. The two of you I swear-" There was a brief pause and then Mycroft's face grow considerably darker. "Key, Sherlock? You have the keys? So you went into the townhouse and took the keys? I really can't decide if that's better or worse than simply hotwiring the damn thing. Rosenwyn, you will drive the car here and if you haven't arrived in the next fifteen minutes, I will call the police."
The youngest Holmes shot the brother beside her an I told you so look. "Where's here? Are you at your pseudo office?"
That gave Mycroft pause. "My pseudo office?"
Rose nodded, her curly hair bouncing as she did so. "Yeah. You totally have a much more high tech office in some lair somewhere that you do all your cool work in. The quaint office with the wood desk and bookshelves is a front."
"How are we having this conversation right now?!" Mycroft demanded. "The validity of my office is a non-issue young lady! I'm at Buckingham Palace and I expect you here in fifteen minutes…"
Eyes wide, Rose interrupted with a bewildered, "For real?"
Mycroft continued on as if she hadn't said a word. "Come in through the back entrance, I'll clear it with security. Fifteen minutes, starting now." The call abruptly ended leaving the younger Holmes siblings slightly bewildered.
"He was serious about the palace, yeah?" Rose asked, her tone quiet.
Sherlock could only nod and gesture for her to get back on the road.
Putting the car back into gear, Rose looked over her shoulder to see if she could safely merge back into traffic. "He's going to be waiting outside for us, I know it. Can't believe you got me into this!" After nudging Sherlock none too gently in the ribs, she put on her turn signal and reentered traffic.
"Look, I think that vehicle is going to the palace too," Rose pointed out as they neared Buckingham. "You watch it's going to put on its turn signal in three…two…"
The turn signal of the SUV did indeed began to blink before the vehicle momentarily disappeared from view as it went through the gated entrance. It was curious, a vehicle heading into what Rose assumed was a private guarded entrance to the palace just as they were about to use that same entrance. A dreadful thought suddenly occurred to Rose. "You don't think he called the police here to arrest us do you?" Her tone was soft, almost as though she were simultaneously awestruck and panicked the very thought of it.
"That would be so very like him," Sherlock admitted, his brow furrowed with worry. It was one thing for him to be arrested—one might be surprised at the number of times that had actually occurred—but Rose? Not if he had anything to say about it.
"Do you think he really did though?" Almost as soon as she asked that, Rose's brain had moved on to other thoughts as the driver side door of the SUV opened and the driver stepped out. "Is… is that who I think it is?" she asked, poking Sherlock. "That's not. The universe really wouldn't be that unkind, would it? It isn't Prince Harry getting out of that SUV." As she spoke, a redheaded man exited the SUV and took off his sunglasses. Rose deflated in her seat, groaning loudly. Oh yes it was, Prince Harry himself, at precisely the time she didn't want an audience for a confrontation with Mycroft. Granted, she was taken of course, but still! Who didn't fancy Prince Harry and who wouldn't love to meet him?
Completely oblivious to Rose's concerns, a half-groan, half-growl escaped Sherlock's mouth. Just as Rose had predicted, Mycroft was waiting for them, arms crossed over his chest, giving them a look that both Rose and Sherlock associated with far too many sore bottoms over the years. "We're in this together, aren't we?" Sherlock asked, flashing his baby sister a hopeful look. His words seemed to draw Rose out of whatever reverie she'd been in and refocused her attention on the very angry brother waiting for them. Rose took one look at said angry brother and shook her head.
"Oh no! No, no, no. This is all you," Rose retorted. "Nothing you could say would convince me to claim part of this, not when Mycroft looks like that." She gestured vaguely in Mycroft's direction. "And definitely not with an audience. Look at that!" Rose pointed towards the entrance where the Queen had apparently come out to greet her grandson… Or gawk at Mycroft's wrath.
With a dramatic eye roll, Sherlock immediately huffed at her. "I bought you a pirate ship and got caned for it. Surely you owe me some sibling solidarity for that." It was a weak card to play, and gave evidence of his desperation, but it was the only one Sherlock had. Almost immediately Rose leveled him with a black look.
"Seriously?" Impatience fairly dripped from Rose's tongue. Unbuckling her seatbelt, Rose turned in the seat to look at him incredulously. "You stole Mycroft's bank card, ordered a pirate ship that cost more than two thousand pounds, and let him figure out the money was missing all on his own. Are you somehow implying that was my fault? I was only five Sherlock, hardly of an age to advise you on anything! That was all you, this is all you. I truly do not require assistance getting into trouble, especially not with the mean brother!" Throughout her little diatribe, a look of incredible annoyance had marred Rose's pretty features, but that look cracked considerably when she waved her hand at Mycroft again and labelled him the 'mean' one. A smile began tugging at Rose's lips almost immediately.
A shrug was really the only response Sherlock could give her, albeit accompanied by a rather sheepish look. "You were the most adorable little pirate," he admitted. A smile began tugging at his lips too as Sherlock called forth memories of Pirate Rose on her glorious vessel, christened the HMS Mycroft, which traversed a great many seas from their own garden. It was clear that Rose too was remembering their play on her ship when they both began giggling together.
…Just as Mycroft opened the driver's side door.
Rose gasped, her eyes wide as Mycroft suddenly came into focus. "You… You were over there!" she said, indicating that same entrance where he had previously been standing.
"Such powers of observation," the eldest Holmes responded, his tone full of sarcasm. "Yes, I was standing over there. When it became apparent that you and Sherlock had no plans to exit my car and proceeded to have a giggle fit, I decided to intervene." Reaching into the car, Mycroft took hold of Rose's upper arm and hauled her out of the car, completely ignoring the yelp Rose let out as he did so. In short order Mycroft had hauled Rose out of the car and spun her slightly before tucking her against his side.
As soon as he tucked her against his side, facing the car, Rose knew exactly what he was going to do- he was going to spank her in public! "My! My! My, don't!" She pleaded, even as Mycroft's hand connected with her backside. Acutely aware of the public location and audience likely taking this in, Rose struggled to get away when a second voice of protest joined her own. Sherlock too was shouting Mycroft's name.
Having seen the situation take a turn for the worse for his baby sister, Sherlock shot out of the passenger side of the car. "Mycroft! Mycroft this is wholly unnecessary!" Rounding the front of the car, Sherlock reached for Mycroft's right arm with the intention of setting his sister free.
There had been no intention whatsoever in this action to take the place of Rose.
…And yet that was just what happened.
Letting go of Rose, who hurriedly moved out of arm's reach of her eldest brother, Mycroft reached for Sherlock and none too gently took him by the collar of his coat and bent him across the bonnet of the car.
Sherlock truly had no idea how this had happened. Field work was not Mycroft's milieu and, quite frankly, never had been. Certainly Mycroft had always been surprisingly strong, but one would think being middle aged would catch up with the eldest Holmes. Apparently that was not so. "Mycroft!" Sherlock roared.
As the Holmes sibling created a public display in the way only the Holmes siblings could do, Prince Harry jogged over towards where his grandmother stood in the doorway watching the spectacle, doing her best not to laugh too loudly. "Granny, what in the world is going on?" Harry asked, looking quite puzzled. His grandmother was far less concerned about the scenario playing out in front of them than he had expected.
Reaching towards Harry, the Queen took his hand and gave it a warm squeeze before letting go. It was not her usual welcome for her grandson but this was hardly a usual afternoon and it took a moment for her to stop laughing enough to respond verbally. "It would seem that Mycroft's brother and sister have stolen his car and he takes great exception to that. I can't really blame him, but this is getting a little unseemly. Go collect Rose, if you would, and bring her inside for me dear. I dare say she could use a spot of tea." Settling the young girl, who was staring awe-struck Mycroft as he continued to spank Sherlock, would be a good thing. Mycroft could use a moment and a cup of tea as well, clearly!
To both Sherlock and Rose it seemed as if Mycroft would never stop, though in reality Mycroft only gave Sherlock a dozen or so hearty swats before released his hold on him. Having finished with Sherlock for the moment, Mycroft turned his attention to Rose to inquire as to an explanation for the left of his car, but was promptly interrupted by Harry.
"Hello," the redheaded prince said as he slid between Mycroft and Rose. "I'm Harry. Granny asked me to escort you in for tea. May I?"
Eyes wide in shock, Rose dropped a rather inelegant curtsy that nearly pitched her forward. She might have fallen right at Harry's feet had he not helped her back up. "Unnecessary," Harry assured her. "Any friend of Granny's is a friend of mine, especially such a pretty friend." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
After gaping at him for a moment, Rose found her voice again. "Lovely to meet you. I'm Rose and yes, you may escort me in for tea. It's very kind of you." She found herself blushing a bit and lowered her eyes. Wasn't it disloyal to feel discomforted by, and somewhat attracted to, someone that wasn't John?
"Excellent! Right this way," Harry said, waving his arm in the direction of the entrance. As they fell into step beside each other, Harry placed his hand against the small of Rose's back. The touch sent shivers up and down Rose's spine. For a moment, she wondered if his hand would stray lower and brush against her bum and how she might appropriately respond to such an action. Did one slap a prince in such an instance? Thankfully his hand stayed at the small of her back, eliminating the need for any slapping.
Eyes narrowed dangerously, Mycroft watched as Prince Harry turned on all his charms for Rose as they walked towards the palace. His keen eyes did not miss the placement of the prince's hand. "That is not happening," Mycroft growled softly. He didn't care if anyone happened to overhear him, though Sherlock was really the only one close enough to him to overhear. When he'd told Rose that she should find someone closer to her own age instead of John, a flirtation with Prince Harry was not what he had in mind! Turning to Sherlock one last time, Mycroft shot daggers at him before returning to the Queen, who apparently was waiting for him.
"A bit overdone my friend," the Queen chided as Mycroft crossed the threshold of the door. The two old friends fell into step beside each other and followed Rose and Harry down the hallway. "A far more public a spectacle than you really ought to be creating," the Queen continued. "You know how beastly the paparazzi is and how desperate they are to capture illicit photographs. It will be quite the miracle indeed if that was not caught on camera!"
Mycroft's mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile. It goaded him to be scolded by the queen, especially when she was, in all likelihood, spot on. But, then again, he doubted that Princess Margaret- God rest her soul- had been even half as trying as Rose and Sherlock were!
As they approached the Queen's private sitting room, Mycroft briefly left Her Majesty's side to catch up with Rose. Taking her by the elbow, they moved a little ways from the doorway so they could have a slight modicum of privacy—and also ensure that the Queen was able to go in and make herself comfortable. As soon as the Queen passed them, Mycroft held his right hand out palm up towards Rose. "Your driving permit," he said firmly. When Rose didn't immediately hand it over, he quirked an eyebrow, warningly.
"Mycroft, I'm twenty. I'm not giving you my driving permit. This was not my fault," Rose replied sternly. Her hands immediately moved to her hips as she assumed a defiant stance, as though silently daring Mycroft to take her driving permit from her person without any assistance by her!
Silently, Mycroft closed the distance between them and leaned down to speak directly into Rose's ear. "I'm quite certain that Her Majesty would point me in the direction of an empty room in which you and I could discuss this matter privately, should I ask her. Do I need to ask her?" Mycroft's tone, combined with the look on his face as he straightened, made it clear that there would be little in the way of verbal exchange if they 'discussed' the issue privately. For the first time since he'd hauled her out of the car, Mycroft got a good look at her as she attempted to stare him down. Of course his sister would have to come to Buckingham Palace in a dress covered in sea horses. A very short dress at that! "And what in god's name are you wearing?" he ground out.
Unwilling to take the chance that Mycroft would really do that, and being the mean brother that was truly more likely than not, Rose took her purse back from Sherlock (he'd been kind enough to remember it was in the car!) as he slipped past them into the sitting room. It didn't take long to retrieve her wallet and pull out her driving permit. About to hand it over, Rose's hand stopped halfway towards Mycroft's, caught off guard by the sudden change of topic. When it finally dawned on her what he'd asked, Rose looked down at her cream colored dress covered with sea horses of various colors, turquoise cardigan, and black Victorian inspired boots that came almost up to her knee. In fact, she looked long and hard at it before shifting her gaze back to Mycroft. "What?" she asked in a puzzled tone. This was how she always dressed!
Mycroft heaved a put-upon sigh and rolled his eyes. "Of all the days for you to be wearing something like… that. It's indecently short for one thing. For another-"
Rose scowled darkly at him and raised her chin defiantly as she put her hands on her hips, interrupting Mycroft before he could go on any further. "If you're implying that what I am wearing is somehow inappropriate for Buckingham Palace, do allow me to point out to you that I hardly planned to come here today! You're the one that threatened to call the police if I didn't! You-" She pointed at Mycroft. "And you-" Rose fingered Sherlock now. "Are really just-"
"I think your dress is splendid," Harry interrupted, ducking his head back into the hallway. He flashed Rose a cheeky grin. "Very bright, full of energy and personality. Tea's ready. Coming?"
Without a word Rose threw her driving permit at Mycroft and followed Harry into the sitting room.
The precise moment that it was polite to do so, Mycroft made his apologies to the Queen and- barely resisting the urge to drag each of them out by an ear- walked Sherlock and Rose outside. None of the siblings uttered even a word as they walked through the halls, though Mycroft certainly gave his polite smile and nod of acknowledgement to several people along the way. It wasn't until they exited the palace that Mycroft deigned to acknowledge his miscreant siblings.
"Get in the car," he ordered sternly. "In the back of the car, mind you." Mycroft wasn't certain he could resist the urge to deliver a well-earned smack upside the head of whomever sat beside him in the front. Thankfully, neither of his siblings put up a fuss at being relegated to the backseat.
In the backseat, Sherlock and Rose flopped against the backrest and crossed their arms over their chests in nearly perfect unison. Had it been any other situation, the two would certainly have shared a laugh, but Mycroft was already on edge and there was no reason to antagonize him any further.
"I want to go home. Please take me home Mycroft," Rose said firmly.
"That is precisely where we are going. We're going home and taking a trip to the study for a long, long discussion about theft. Sherlock, don't think you will be excluded from the discussion," Mycroft warned, his tone steely. "Though heaven only knows why I bother to try and correct you anymore." He shot the younger man a dark look that precisely matched the one Rose was currently giving Mycroft himself.
"I did not mean the townhouse, I meant Baker Street. And I am not a thief!" The dark look on Rose's face now turned to Sherlock, who was avoiding her gaze completely. Huffing, Rose turned to look straight ahead again, just in time to catch Mycroft lift a skeptical eyebrow at her.
"I'm not a thief anymore. One. Bloody. Time. Ages ago at that!" Rose shouted, adding a firm kick to the back of Mycroft's seat. She smirked with satisfaction when Mycroft's seat jerked with the force behind that kick, and the slightly pained yelp that accompanied only made her smirk all the more.
…Until Mycroft pulled the car over. His vexation with both his siblings was scrawled all over his face as he parked the car out of the way of traffic. The color drained from Rose's face as Mycroft turned towards the backseat and raised his right hand, bringing it down sharply against her thigh.
"Oww-uh!" Rose yelped. Her hand went straight to the now warm and tingling handprint on her thigh, attempting to rub away the stinging.
"If you ever kick my seat while I'm driving again, I will pull this car over and spank you then and there for all and sundry to see. Do you understand me, young lady?" Mycroft asked, his tone utterly uncompromising.
Rose quickly nodded and mumbled a "Yes," in response. Really, she was far more preoccupied with rubbing the sting from her thigh.
Reaching into the backseat again, Mycroft gently took hold of Rose's chin and lifted her head so he could look her in the eye. "Yes…what?"
Her face blooming cherry red, Rose swallowed hard before responding. "Yes, sir."
"Good girl," Mycroft praised, pleased that she was calm and not having a strop. Well, at least not yet, but he could hope! Letting go of her chin, Mycroft turned to face forward again, putting the car into gear.
Sherlock paid little attention to the argument that was quickly escalating, desperately trying to suss out a way to avoid a trip to Mycroft's study. Given the events at Buckingham, Sherlock had no illusions about what Mycroft had in mind and it wouldn't be sorted out with a simply scolding.
"I…I…I've got a case on! Lestrade needs me at once, Mycroft!" Sherlock suddenly shouted. The delighted sound in Sherlock's tone was matched by the look on his face- it was the perfect excuse!
Rose whipped her head around to look at Sherlock, staring blankly at him with her mouth hanging open in utter disbelief. Sherlock's mobile wasn't even in his hands! How did he expect that to work? Better yet, would he seriously abandon her after starting this whole mess?
Mycroft looked in the rearview mirror and couldn't miss the way Rose was looking at Sherlock. It worried him, but he couldn't put his finger on why it did. "The look on our sister's face tells me that's not the least bit true. You're clearly out of practice, brother mine. Childish games will not convince me that you're too old for a childish punishment." Mycroft's words, spoken with an incredibly smug tone, hung thick in the air.
The final leg of the drive to the Holmes townhouse was spent in a silence that reigned until the Holmes siblings found themselves in Mycroft's study; eldest behind the desk, the younger ones standing in front of it. Once more Mycroft found himself a bit mystified by the look on Rose's face that seemed to be growing angrier by the minute. Even odder was the fact that it was directed at Sherlock rather than at himself.
"I have lost count of how many times we've found ourselves here, with the two of you involved in some sort of mischief that I inevitably have to sort out. I am at least thankful that neither of you chose to hotwire my car," Mycroft admitted. "But there is still much to be explained. Rose, why don't you start?" Settling back in his chair, Mycroft pinned his little sister with a stern look.
"I can't start anywhere. I had nothing to do with this," Rose responded at once, her tone urgent and pleading. After addressing him, she elbowed Sherlock rather firmly in the ribcage, clearly expecting him to take the lead.
Sherlock gazed down at his little sister as his brain worked overtime to come up with a way that he could explain this without walking into the caning he could sense was coming his way. So far, he was drawing a blank and it was driving him mad.
"Rosenwyn, surely you don't expect me to believe that you had nothing to do with this?" Mycroft questioned incredulously. "You and Sherlock are always causing mischief together and while this might in fact be the height of your antics, it is hardly new to see you two over there and find myself here, utterly perplexed and almost a loss of what to do with you."
Abandoning her silent pleas to Sherlock, at least for the moment, Rose turned her head to look at Mycroft again. "Why do you think I would steal your car Mycroft?" Her tone was dull and flat, and should have been a warning to Mycroft that he was going down the wrong road.
Sadly he didn't pick up on it. "Why wouldn't I? Honestly Rose, why wouldn't I? You're itching to get your practice hours in, things were rather…" Mycroft tried to choose his words carefully. "…rather rocky during our last excursion. Surely that is sufficient motivation to devise some sort of scheme with Sherlock to go round me. Am I wrong?"
Rose raised her chin defiantly and for a long moment did nothing but stare silently at him as hurt flooded her eyes. "I'm not a common criminal, I'm not a liar, and I'm not going to damage the trust you have in me by stealing your car. Whatever I did recently to make you think I would boldly lie to your face about something like this, I have no idea. But I'm sorry for it, because it seems I need to earn back your trust again. I'll work on that." Her voice began to waver as tears glistened in her eyes, threatening to spill at any second. "I'll work on that," Rose repeated. "In the meantime, I'm going home." Without a word to Sherlock, Rose turned on her heel and stormed out of the study.
A sinking feeling filled Mycroft's chest as he watched Rose hastily exit the room. Had he been too quick to lump she and Sherlock together in this mischief? One look at Sherlock, observing his reddening face and sorrow filled eyes, confirmed that he'd rushed to judgement. In seconds he was up on his feet and going after her. "Rose! Rosenwyn! Rose!" Running out onto the drive, Mycroft scanning the surrounding area and spotted a turquoise cardigan rounding the block, undoubtedly heading for the nearest tube station. "ROSE! WAIT!"
Looking over her shoulder at Mycroft's shouting, Rose could tell he was in pursuit of her and would close in on her soon. Why he was following her she wasn't entirely sure, but what Rose did know is that she had no desire to speak to either of her brothers right then. "TAXI!" Rose shouted, putting her arm out for a passing car to stop. Mycroft would catch up with her before she could take the tube, but a taxi would put good distance between them, at least for a time. Getting into the cab, she shut the car door firmly behind her and addressed the driver.
"221B Baker Street, please."
Mycroft's heart sank as he watched Rose disappear from sight in the cab. For several minutes he stood there at the end of the street, hoping she would come back. She didn't, but Sherlock soon joined him. The two brothers stood together in silence for a moment longer before either of them spoke.
"That… I should have seen that outcome," the younger man said quietly. "I didn't mean for that to happen." Sherlock was unable to keep a tremor of emotion from his voice as he spoke. He and Rose had always been so in tune to one another, there'd always been a bond of sibling camaraderie and solidarity between them. Sherlock couldn't help but think that he had just unwittingly damaged the close bond he and Rose shared. And for what? To save his arse from Mycroft, who apparently had no inhibitions about taking him to task? It seemed very silly now, to have been so worried about Mycroft getting out the cane that it had overridden everything else.
Mycroft eyed his brother incredulously, wondering what was going on inside Sherlock's head—both now and when Sherlock had stolen the damn car earlier on. "Did you see the look in her eyes, Sherlock?" His voice was quiet and subdued. "Did you see that look of distrust in her eyes? She and I are doing better than we have in years and I never wanted to see that look in her eyes again. Today I did, and you put it there."
Sherlock, his face flooding with color, could do little more than hang his head in shame.
When it became clear that Sherlock would offer no defense (which was frankly a relief!), Mycroft continued on. "You will find a way to make this right Sherlock." It was not a question, but a statement of fact, if not an order. "You will find a way to make this right with Rose. And don't believe for a second that you're getting out of explaining and getting your just rewards for this entire debacle." Putting his hands on Sherlock's shoulders, Mycroft turned him in the direction of the townhouse. "We're going to my study. Now."
A/N: Not as long as I'd like it to be, but it's a chapter and it's here! More will follow ASAP!