Mycroft Holmes was almost never board; he simply had too much to do. First he had to make sure Sherlock was getting himself into much trouble and might end up getting himself killed. After he had to check up on John, this part of the day was less stressing than the others. John, for the most part, lived a pretty routine life. Every morning he would get up, get his clothes out, shower, eat, grab a few things then head to work, came home, made tea, watched crap telly, then bed. Sometimes John would switch things up and go out for a walk or go met up with someone, that's when Mycroft had fun guessing where John would go, watching his every move. Mycroft had to admit, John was pretty amusing.
After John came William Andrews. Once William came into the picture, Mycroft didn't spend as much time watching John or his brother. No, this man could be a threat; best keep an eye on him. Although Mycroft did actually watch people all the time, he kept tabs on them in others ways. Watching on a screen was all too easy, and sometimes, not every was kind enough to have a security camera in their house so Mycroft could hack into them. So instead, he had men follow them; he somehow got bugs placed on them. These skills came in handy when dealing with people like Catharine Andrews. She seemed innocent enough, but she was a lawyer, never underestimate a lawyer.
After her came Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson. After finishing up on his daily watches, Mycroft then had to get onto his normal work. As if all that stress wasn't enough, Mycroft was having a hard enough time trying (but failing) to stay on his diet. So famous person had a birthday party over the week that Mycroft was forced to attend and what party doesn't have cake? But not only was it a cake, no, it was a triple chocolate cake with dark chocolate frosting and chocolate shreds on the top. But not only did he have a piece (more like 3 pieces) he brought some back with him, and it was calling for him.
"Sir? We have Mr. Einson on line 1." His PA said as she brought in a piece of the chocolate cake. "Thank you," was all he said. Oh yes, thank you for bring in cake right before I talk with Sherlock so now I'll be drooling all over the phone! Mycroft honestly wasn't to angry, all his anger melted away as he put a single bite in his mouth.
"Caractacus? Where are you?" Mycroft said eyeing his cake.
"Ah! Hello Brian! How are you!?" Said a familiar voice.
"SHER- Mr. Einson, would you please tell me your location?" Mycroft near yelled into the phone. Sherlock hadn't been keeping to the plan, he hadn't spoken or texted Mycroft in 4 days. Anything could happen in 4 days. Sherlock could have been caught, he could have been killed, that idiot! Why did he have to do everything his way and never listen to anyone!
"Caractacus, if you do not keep to the plan I will no longer fund you and keep any information I get to myself! Do I make myself clear!?"
"Ugh! Fine! I just finished getting my room; I'm going to go met someone who says they have some information about Mr. Moran."
"Mr Einson, please tell me where exactly you are or I won't tell the information I have acquired."
"What!? You've learned something? Tell me!"
"First tell me where you are!"
"You first!"
"Sherlock, don't be childish with me, you can either tell me or I'm hanging up right now!"
"Fine! I'm sending you in an e-mail. Now tell me what you know!"
"It appears Lestrade has asked Dr. Watson for his assistance on a case."
"Yes, with 'The White Flame' so I'm told. You mean they haven't figured it out yet?"
Mycroft sighed, of course Sherlock knew about the case. It seems whenever something DOES happen in John Watson's life it somehow id related to Sherlock. It seems the poor man can't live his own life.
"Yes, it seems 'The white Flame' wants you and you alone to take on the case. And now the Yard and Dr. Watson it seems have been put in a position where they must take drastic moves."
"Like what?"
"They've hired an actor who looks exactly like you to join them on the case. This could cause us some problems. I'll try and keep them out of the papers, but I can't make any promised."
Now Sherlock sighed, he could only image what this was doing to John.
Just a few more weeks, that's all I need, then I can go home and set everything right again.
"Ok, I won't be much longer. I need a little more time, I'm so close. I think I know where he is and what his next move is. But I need to be sure; I could just be another serial killer again. And that would make all this a waste of time. I have to go My, keep me in updated. And with that Sherlock hung up, he was almost there; he was so close he could feel it!
Mycroft Holmes supported his head with his hands and gave a heavy sigh.
Oh yes, that's right.
His cake was still waiting for him. He took a rather large bite, all this was making his stressful. It was times like this where he was thankful for the man who discovered chocolate.
In a common house, in a common neighborhood, a kidnapping had taken place. DI Lestrade, Dr. John Watson and William Andrews all stood in the living room of the victim to see what they could find. "Victim's name was Samantha Howard, 28 years old, married, had a job as a up and coming model. Her husband came home and found his house vandalized and his wife missing."
"Who is her husband?" Asked John looking at a smashed picture on a fireplace mantle.
"Ever heard of 'The King'?"
"You mean the famous wrestler?"
"Yeah, he came home after a match and found his house like this. We've already connected all his rivals and their managers and all her rivals and their managers, none of them seem like likely kidnappers. But we are having further investigations."
"What about family and friends? Do they know anything?"
"No, Mrs. Howard was an only child and her mother died when she was a kid, she hadn't spoken to her father since she turned 18 and moved out. I got Donavon looking for him. Mr. Howard only living family members is his brother, who was with his during the match."
"Right. Have you gotten anywhere in the search for Samuel Tomarus's father?"
"Anderson said that they found him and are bring him in tomorrow for questioning."
William looked around the room careful not to touch anything. The room was covered glass from smashed picture frames, glass from the television and from the window from the kidnapper broken into. "Have you guys dusted for any finger prints?" William asked.
Both Lestrade and John turned to face him.
"What?" William said defensively.
"N-nothing," Lestrade said turning away.
John gave a small smirk, of course they had dusted, Anderson would have never let someone on the crime scene with his dusting everything first, in fact, John was pretty sure that was the first thing Anderson did on a scene. He wanted to be able to SOMETHING before Sherlock would get there. And dusting is the one thing he was actually good at.
"To answer your questions, yes Anderson did. We sent the prints in to see if we could find any matches. Well anyways, have you got anything John?"
John was quite for a moment, and then began his deductions.
"They own a large dog, a German Shepherd or a Boxer. The dog was given to them as a present by his brother as a wedding present, which the brother was also the best man at. Mr. Howard was close with his brother and when he found out he was having financial problems he asked him to stay here with his wife. According to the media, Mr. Howard has been spending a lot of time away from home. From what I remember from last week's show, he still has 3 more matches before the big tournament. So why would he come home? If his brother was with him then he wouldn't be worried about his wife having an affair with him. Something must have happened that would cause Mr. Howard to worry about his wife."
"H-how did you know all that?" William said with a more confused than amazed look on his face. It was strange feeling, there was Sherlock standing there asking how JOHN knew everything. Oh wait, that's right, that's not Sherlock, no that was a look-a-like who knew nothing about the science of deduction.
"Well, for starters, look on the fool. There are marks on the floor, stairs and windows, three places where does would leave marks from their claws. Their very deep so they must be made by a bigger dog. There on the mantle shows a picture of the Mr. and Mrs. Howard on their wedding day with their wedding parties. The groom and the man next to him look very similar, so they must be brothers. I wasn't sure until Lestrade said that his brother was at the match, meaning they must be very close and his brother supports him during matches and, most likely, training. On the mantle next to the wedding picture is a picture also taken on their wedding with the brother, groom and bride holding a pup, pretty big give away. I've also seen Mr. Howard in a couple of magazines, from what it said that he has a private training house out in the country somewhere. And with more matched coming up, his manager would want him training as much as possible. If anything, he would have gone out with his wife somewhere, then gone back to his hotel and left in the morning. But because he came home means he knew something was wrong."
William stood wide eyed and jaw dropped, "H-how-"
John smiled; he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride well up inside him. Was this how Sherlock felt all the time?
"Right, thank you." Lestrade said getting off his phone, "That was Donavon; she said she had both Mr. Tomarus and Mr. Howard down at the station. Do you want to question them?"
John turned to William, who looked as lost as ever, then turned back to Lestrade.
"No, but I think Sherlock will want too."
William's eyes widen again. "But- but I can't I mean-"
"Don't worry, I'll tell you what to ask and be giving you instructions the whole time!" John said putting his hand on William's shoulder and giving him a warm smile.
As the three began to leave, John stopped for a moment and looked back into the living room. It almost seemed right, but there was still a sense of wrongness in the air. Like the world was slowly shifting back to how it should be, but was shifting the wrong way. I'm doing this for you, Sherlock thought John as he stared off into space. Something wouldn't let go, no, not until this was over and he could finally move on. He gave a sigh and left the house, and as he did one sentence ran through his head,
Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side.