I. 22 May, 2014
Prime minister sex scandal averted due to newspaper magnate pay off. Dead end on European counterfeiter fiasco, literally. Predicted high of nineteen degrees. Partly cloudy skies, clearing to full sun.
II. Not that I've had a chance to see the sun in last three days with the situation in the Balkans.
And now things have become even more difficult. Agent 2575 was found yesterday morning sans head. There must definitely be a connection between the counterfeiters and the government. The fake money is being sent along official channels. It has been found in a number of European banks mixed with actual currency. If this is not stopped, it will lead to distrust in the Euro and may even threaten the World Bank.
I must text Anthea. The file for 2575 should be retired and placed in the secure archive. She was a good agent, very good. Such a shame to lose her. We need another agent. Someone just as good or better. Perhaps a specialist in counterfeiting. Someone that they would seek out. It would alleviate suspicion if they were the ones who instigated the connection. I must think on this.
But what's this on my desk? Oh yes, Sherlock's wedding speech. Margarete was at the wedding disguised as wait staff. She has an exceptional memory for speech and can recall and replay an entire days worth of conversations at will. Much better than an audio recorder. She was getting tired of diplomatic assignments despite her incredible usefulness at political summits. This undercover assignment was to be a treat for her. It also was designed to show her how very boring field work is, so that she wouldn't mind the soft assignments that she has been getting. And on the plus side, she actually does have a background in catering.
This transcript is long. Sherlock must have been flustered. He does tend to ramble on and on when he is excited. Strange. My first thought was that he would freeze up and say nothing. No... my very first though was that he wouldn't give a speech at all. Two years ago, the very thought of such a thing would have been a joke. I was surprised to find that he had agreed to it. But then again, for John Watson there is very little that Sherlock will not do.
"Today we honor the death watch beetle that is the doom of our society..." Ha, ha! He's just insulted John, Mary, the bride maids, and God for that matter. But what is this? "The bravest and kindest..." Oh my. Oh My!
"The two people who love you most... We will never let you down, and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that."
Love! My brother has made a public confession of love. Amazing! I wouldn't have believed such a thing was possible of the boy who always shied away from public displays of affection. He's wanted people before, liked them even, but never in my knowledge has he ever admitted it, at least not publicly.
Why now? And why did he want me to witness his public confession of weakness? Does he suspect me? Does he know that I...
Of course he knows. How can he not know of my affection for John Watson. Sherlock has always been able to deduce my feelings. He is annoying that way. Oh, how he mocked me when I was infatuated with Alister Walliston, so rude. He told me that he was seeing Roberta Coone behind my back, and he was right. He is always right in such matters, unerringly so. So the fact that he is saying this out loud... is it a challenge to me? Why else would he confess weakness like this? Why not privately in his flat while alone with the man. So much time the two of them spend alone together, with only a loyal landlady below who would never tell their secrets.
John Watson has always been able to drive Sherlock to do things that are against his nature. They were even jailed for public drunkenness, Sherlock hates to drink! Well... he hates getting drunk, ever since that time at the Christmas charity ball when he was seventeen... ha, ha, ha! That was hilarious. He avoided the Royal Albert Hall for years after that.
But this is my vanity talking, my own delusion. I was never anything to John Watson. To him, I am simply Sherlock's older brother. One day, Sherlock and he might ... find each other, but John will never ... not with me, never with me. Why do I delude myself? Such a weakness, delusion.
Like Sherlock's delusion that John would remain close to him after he is married. He should know enough about human nature to know how unlikely that is. But perhaps that is the real reason for the confession. He has decided to bow out gracefully. To walk away if it will make John happy. Has Sherlock learned to be noble? Has he finally learned how to put another person's happiness before his own? Has he grown up, at last?
IV.
Mycroft wipes a tear from his eye, then he quickly reads the entire transcript. At the end his mouth falls open, and he reads the ending again out loud. The words echoing against the walls of the empty office.
" 'Whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on I swear I will always be there, always, for all three of you.' Did he really say...? Well, something must be done about that."
II.
(He adjusts the knocker which has fallen askew again and enters the flat at 221B Baker street. )
Sherlock is difficult to talk to unless he is distracted by something inane. Perhaps we can discuss this over a hand of old maid. What is this? Has he been moving things. That scratch on the stairs, they've been recently swept. It can't be for me. Who is it that he wants to impress?
IV.
"What do you want, Mycroft?" Sherlock calls out.
Mycroft enters the room avoiding the pile of books that Sherlock placed there to trip him. Sherlock is buttoning his coat. It is a new blue one, dashing and a bit too bright for him. He notices the absence of John's chair.
II.
Where did he put it? In his bedroom perhaps or is it hidden away upstairs in the room that is sure to become a shrine to his lost love. Sherlock is always so dramatic.
IV.
"Can you please say whatever it is that you have come to say and be on your way? I'm expecting someone."
"And a good afternoon to you as well, Sherlock. When will you learn proper manners?"
"When will you learn to stop binging on petit fours? You've already gained five pounds since I last saw you."
"Always so pleasant, Sherlock. You know why I am here."
"No, and I don't care. Leave now before my guest arrives."
"The wedding speech, what did you mean by that?"
"If you were so interested in the wedding, you should have attended it."
"I read the transcript. What do you have to say for yourself?"
"That it can't have been that important if it takes you over two days to respond."
" 'Whatever it takes, I swear that I will always be there.' Why on Earth would you say such a thing?"
"It is none of your business what I say or what I don't say, Mycroft. Besides, it's old news now."
"Have you learned nothing? What did we learn about making rash oaths? Please tell me that you don't plan to carry through with this promise."
The doorbell rings.
"And this is your cue to leave. Excuse me while I get the door."
Sherlock runs lightly down the steps. Mycroft frowns down at his umbrella as he listens to the conversation.
"Hi! Janine, what a pleasant surprise."
Was that the sound of a kiss on the cheek?
"Would you like to come up?"
"Sure."
Mycroft frowns at the sound of high heels on the step. What is Sherlock doing?
"Oh I'm sorry, you have company," the dark-haired woman says.
"Oh. that's my brother, Mycroft. He was just leaving."
"Your brother?" she says smirking at Sherlock. "You mean that there are more like you? So pleased to meet ya, Mike."
"Mike?"
"That is what they call you isn't it, or is it Mikey? You can't expect me to believe that people call you Mycroft all of the time." She laughs. Sherlock laughs with her.
"Please, take a seat?"
"Wouldn't mind if I do."
"Mycroft, don't you have matters of State to deal with?"
"Sherlock, might I have a word with you in the hallway?"
"But I have a guest."
"It's okay, Sherl, I can wait while you talk to your brother. It will give me a chance to case your flat. Always an important thing to do."
Sherlock laughs again before following Mycroft into the hall and closing the door. His face becoming less animated as soon as the door shuts.
"John Watson..." Mycroft says quietly.
"Mycroft, leave now. We have nothing to discuss."
"Nothing to discuss?" he says, his voice rising involuntarily. "I think that we do."
"My actions are none of your business."
"They are when you endanger the both of us with dangerous declarations."
"Dangerous?"
"Of course, dangerous. You are a public figure now. What you say gets reported, and you have just announced your weaknesses to the world. You've pointed a finger to the Watsons telling all of your enemies to attack them to get to you. How could you?"
"It's time for you to leave."
"Couldn't you have done such a thing in private? God knows what else you've been up to behind closed doors..."
"Goodbye, Mycroft!" he said loudly grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the stairs.
"And what are you doing with that woman?"
Sherlock pushes him toward the banister and glares. Then his eyes fall and a look of terrible sadness crosses his face before he puts on his mask again and steps back into the room.
Mycroft frowns as he listens to the happy talk that the two of them are making, then he turns and walks slowly down the stairs.