Chapter 7: FRIENDS And flatmates
John felt Sherrinford tense. "Come along, John. You are going to escort me out of this room, down the hall and possibly through the lobby." Sherrinford kept his tone friendly but there was an edge to it John hadn't heard before. Sherlock remained where he was. "Move aside, little brother or I'll-"
"Little brother?" John groaned, "I feel a massive headache returning."
"John-" Sherlock winced.
"Nope, no, oh no. You don't talk. And you," He surprised Sherrinford once more by turning and disarming him with an ease of a taller deadlier man. Sherrinford didn't miss the look of pride cross his younger brother's face.
"Now, I've got the gun. Sherlock, put yours down because the mood I'm in I don't know if I won't shoot you."
To Sherrinford's surprise his little brother did just that and he sank down onto the bed across from the two. This was an interesting turn up. He truly didn't know the tall dark haired stranger. Sherlock just didn't fit the picture he had carried in his mind. Every time he thought of the younger man, which of late was often, he came up with the cold glare or glassy drugged up look.
"John, I didn't tell you about him because well, he's supposed to be dead."
"Really, must be a Holmes thing, this immortality." John turned to Doctor Morgan. "So, I'm guessing Morgan isn't your real name."
Sherrinford smiled. "Sherrinford Holmes." He dropped his american accent and adopted a much more familiar tone.
"God you sound like Mycroft. How could I have not guessed." John hissed through clenched teeth.
"Don't be too hard on yourself, Doctor Watson-" Sherrinford started only to be cut off again by the angry blond doctor.
"Shut it. Or I will shoot you. Alright now, Sherlock, explain to me why you are ready to shoot your eldest brother?"
"Really I look that old?" Sherrinford huffed.
John rolled his eyes and continued to stand between the two men, the consulting detective had lowered his weapon.
"He tried to kill Mycroft. So MI6 disposed of him. Or so that was the official story. I never cared to look into it." Sherlock grumbled. "It doesn't matter. Just step away from him, John, my brother's minions will be here soon and you know how trigger happy they can be."
"You never looked into it?" John raised an eyebrow. "You never looked into the fact that your own brother set out to kill your middle brother?"
"It's not my business. Besides, I was a bit preoccupied during that time. " Sherlock inwardly winced. Interestingly enough, he hadn't looked into Sherrinford's betrayal. It had just seemed easier to delete it along with all memory of his eldest brother. However, he could never quite manage to get his brain to do what he asked and Sherrinford Holmes had his own locked room deep within Sherlock's mind palace vaults.
"He means high as a kite." Sherrinford offered with a cold glare at his younger and very sober little brother.
"John, none of this matters. All that matters is that you're safe now and he will be handed over to the proper authorities where they will torture him for hours, hopefully, before questioning him."
"Sherlock." John warned.
"No, he's allowed his venom, John. We aren't exactly close. I am actually surprised he and Mycroft are such bosom buddies. Then again Mycroft has always been the soft one."
John snorted "Mycroft? Soft?"
"We are not bosom buddies. I hate him. Just slightly less than I hate you." Sherlock protested in a tone that any little brother would take on when confronted with such offensive words.
"Well, you looked quite the close pair to me." Sherrinford teased.
"We are off subject!" John interrupted "Sherlock, Morgan, or Sherrinford. Whatever his name is didn't kidnap me. He actually saved my ass from being jumped in the bathroom of the airport after someone, once again, planted a weapon in my luggage. Not funny by the way." Sherlock made a face as if to argue the accusation. "And you! Stop taking cheap shots at your little brother's sobriety. Get over it. If we are to figure out who tried to kidnap me and why, we are going to need to share information."
"Morgan? Your alias is Morgan." Sherlock half laughed half snorted.
"Shut up." Sherrinford replied.
"Morgan. Really? As in Henry Morgan?" Sherlock continued to poke at his elder brother.
"Does it really matter what his name is Sherlock? GUN!" John gestured to the weapon in his hand.
"I thought it was fitting. Living all these years as a man on the run." Sherrinford shrugged.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "How no one saw through such an obviously fake name as Captain Henry Morgan."
"Wait, as in Captain Morgan the rum?" John sighed. "Why are we even talking about this? So what that wanting to be a pirate runs in the family obviously." John really had a headache at this point. "Can we maybe just move on to the part of the day where we all discuss the matter at hand. Maybe go to the pub, have some laughs AND PUT THE GUNS DOWN!" John lifted his weapon pointing it towards the older Holmes who had produced another 9mm from thin air, causing Sherlock to raise his own in defense.
"I don't know how you manage to keep him around. He's so volatile." Sherrinford smirked plopping down on the bed opposite of Sherlock, still holding the weapon but at least it was at rest in his lap.
"He has his moments." Sherlock snapped back tetchily, quick to take offense when it came to his friend. "And if you didn't kidnap John? Which all the evidence thus far proves, who did?"
"That's just it I don't know who or why." Sherrinford forgot his gun and steepled his hands under his chin. John couldn't help but kick himself for not noticing the similarities between Sherlock and Sherrinford earlier.
"Why do you want to speak to Q?" Sherlock demanded his brain running in all directions.
"They've been communicating." A deep voice from behind Sherlock interrupted the three. A man with piercing blue eyes and a slight Scottish accent entered, his short cropped blond hair and expensive suit left no question that he worked for Mycroft.
"Too late I think." Sherrinford stood up straightening his suit. "James, have you come to take me in then?"
The MI6 agent didn't acknowledge the man. "This is a waste of time. He doesn't have Q. He wouldn't know where he is. They've been communicating since Sherrinford died."
"What? How do you know-" Sherrinford glared at the agent. "Oh, you're the new flatmate. He mentioned he had a work friend staying with him, but I assumed-"
"Everyone assumes, but I'm not gay." James replied easily, turning to peek out of the partly opened door.
"I get that a lot too." John offered "I've given up at this point."
"It doesn't bother me. Whatever keeps Q safe. Except he's not now. And it's your fault." Bond closed the door softly and turned back to glare at Sherrinford Holmes.
"My fault? No one knows that we communicate. And, as far as I knew, he hadn't told anyone."
"He didn't. I'm not stupid. I put that together from the conversation I overheard. John was stationed at the same place you were. I know this because Mycroft has two of the best agents there pretending to be janitors. Been following him around. He doesn't take phone calls from anyone. However, Q has been phoning that area for the past year. I don't nose into Q's business. I did notice that he made a phone call once a week and usually waited for me to be out of hearing distance. He also has been obsessed with the Doctor's accident."
Both John and Sherrinford made eye contact. "I see you have your own theory." Sherlock turned towards the agent, not surprised that James was holding his signature Walther ready to fire on the elder Holmes. "What did he tell you?" Sherrinford asked.
"It doesn't matter. If you are the key to getting him back then I'll be dragging you out of here dead or alive. I'm sure MI6 prefers alive, but I can't make promises."
John sighed, ignoring the sudden deadly tension, the open challenge in the air. They were getting nowhere. "Put the guns down." John replied irritably. "Lets all talk calmly."
"The time of action is now. Q has been gone for over 48 hours. We all know the statistics. Q is smart however, he isn't a field operative."
"Meaning you don't believe he'll hold up to a interrogation. Nice gun, Bond. Is that what they're issuing now?" Sherrinford eyed the weapon with interest.
"Q programmed this for me. Only works when I hold it. Don't even think about it. It even has a tracker in it. Q hates when I lose things. I once lost one of his prized possessions to a Komodo dragon." Sherrinford raised another eyebrow. That sounded like a story he wanted to hear.
"He's a genius, that kid. Someone went through a lot of trouble to kidnap him and those same somebodies were after the Doctor. Now, I suggest you start talking, Sherrinford Holmes or I'll make it unpleasant for you. I'm not wasting my time on this. Not when Q is being held. If you want to know what I really think about Alcott holding up to interrogation. Well, the kid's strong. He would keep his secrets, up until his last breath. And I don't want that. I won't allow it."
"Fair. I just, honestly don't have the slightest clue." Sherrinford sat back down on the bed, lowering his gun. "However, if there are moles as you suggested to Mycroft and that's why you were recently being detained then it's the Doctor they were after and we can use him as bait."
"John? As bait? Absolutely not-" Sherlock huffed.
"Yes." John volunteered. "Finally a man with a plan. "
"John." Sherlock protested glaring at the MI6 agent finally lowering his weapon.
"You're a good man doctor. Q always liked you."
Sherrinford read the emotions crossing Sherlock's now pinched face. Similar to the expression on the usually steely MI6 agent's face. Q deserved a friend and James seemed to be the most loyal of friends. What an odd feeling to want a little of that. Not even his alter ego Morgan had friends he trusted. Sure his wife had made a few. In fact, he had left their son with one of her closest friends.
He had left his son with Jesse Santos. It had almost been a year since he last held his son. Sure, Jesse and her husband were good people. Although, her sister had an edge to her that Sherrinford couldn't quite put his finger on. He didn't trust Helena but she checked out. Just a clothes designer in London. He could easily just stop in to Jesse's small home in West Kensington. Sherrinford suddenly felt so tired.
This vendetta had gone on long enough. He needed to find the threat and neutralize it. Sherrinford Holmes was tired and he realized he just wanted to go home, wherever that was now. He wondered if his son would forgive him for his absence. Video chatting and quick mobile calls wasn't how he wanted his boy to remember him.
~0~
Sherlock looked from the MI6 agent to his older brother, and then John. He wouldn't mind if Bond decided to make Sherrinford talk. However John would find that a bit not good.
He was just glad to have John home and in one piece. He would never admit that out loud to his friend.
"Why exactly was Alcott suspicious of John's accident?" Sherlock had questions. If they were going to work together he needed this cleared up.
There was a quick look between John and Sherrinford and Sherlock's eyes narrowed on the elder Holmes. There was something very important he was missing.
Mycroft's men had combed over John's accident with a fine tooth comb, finding nothing pointing to foul play, it was just a bad day. A cruel act of fate.
"The traffic light had some kind of tech. I don't know the specifics. You know Alcott. He goes off on these technical jargon rants and I'm lost." Sherrinford was the one quick to reply.
Sherlock would accept this half truth and John wasn't meeting his eyes. Something told Sherlock the answer wasn't going to be one he wanted to hear.
"And he told you this brother because you're so close? How is that even-"
"Oh, come now, Sherlock. You couldn't have deleted the well known fact that I disappeared our dear Uncle. The kid was always too smart for his own good. Little boffin refused to leave me be and well. when I needed to disappear, he helped me. And he stayed in touch when everyone else turned on me."
"In all fairness you did try to kill Mycroft." Sherlock added. "Although, I have given it much thought myself, I would never take a contract on my brother."
"He didn't." Bond glanced back out the door closing it once more. "I suggest we move this conversation to a more private setting. Mycroft has more than just me out to pick up the elder Holmes."
"Fine. 221B it is." John rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands. "I could use some good English tea. And god help you Sherlock Holmes, if there are holes in the walls or any of the furniture has been used for a science experiment."
"Aren't you two the happy couple." Sherrinford snickered.
"Shut it." John snapped opening the hotel room door. "I'll go first. I doubt Mycroft's henchmen will shoot me. They should know my face by now."
"All the same Doctor Watson." Bond stepped in front of the doctor.
"Go on then." John yawned feeling every inch of his aches and pains. "I'll keep an eye on the two Holmes idiots. I don't know if the flat can take another Holmes. That's if there still is a flat standing. You never know with Sherlock Holmes."
Bond held a tight smile. "Mine likes to take apart everything to make it better. Personally, I don't need a toaster to tell me room temperature, the weather and the time. Sometimes a bloke just wants bloody toast. Nothing is safe with a techno geek around. He once managed to black out a street leaving one lamp to flash morris code for "Get milk." While I was on my way to the shops."
"Really." John had to laugh. " That's pretty clever. Mine just sends ridiculous texts with ridiculous requests. I always end up looking like a psychopath when I check out. I once bought a jar of petroleum jelly, duct tape, black bin liners, a ladle and pink nail polish. "
James couldn't hold back the deep throaty laugh picturing the poor Doctor at the shop with all these items would have raised a few eyebrows.
Q had said it took the patience of a saint to live with his brother Sherlock. Listening to John Watson cursing under his breath left little doubt that the man was a saint.
Alcott had told Bond about his abusive father one night when the younger man had let his guard down and indulged in some of Bond's whiskey. James had thought he would have killed the man slowly had Sherrinford Holmes not already done the deed. Alcott respected Sherrinford Holmes and he trusted the older Holmes, Bond had to respect that. For his friend, he could try and trust the rouge agent.
The MI6 quartermaster had promised James he would never allow his handlers to put him down like a dog or lock him away in early retirement. The young lad had a soft spot for the double 00's and he wondered if Sherrinford Holmes had a hand in that.
They hadn't made it more than a block away before the shooting started, James cursed his slow reflexes. These weren't Mycroft's usual lackeys he should have anticipated that there was some inside help and that he might be under surveillance.
The group found themselves splitting up, Doctor Watson was with James.
"So I guess they aren't with you."
"You guessed right." Bond ducked behind a skip they waited.
"Alright then, let's just get this over with. You said there's a chip in this gun. A tracking GPS thing?"
"Yeah." James replied stiffening as John took the gun from him. "Like I said, only I can fire it."
John smiled sadly. "Do me a favor, you know that traffic light? It was an accident and I don't want you telling Sherlock just how the light knew when to change from red to green."
"Doctor?"
"Don't make me wait." John ducked past the taller man and ran in the direction they had just come from.
"Dammit!" James growled giving chase realization hitting him the doctor had a plan, a mad one but all the same it was a plan.