Brotherly Love
"Giles" Sherlock called as he walked into the detective's office, shaking the rain water from his hair. The man looked up and a familiar woman turned around to face him.
"And Karen too, what a pleasure" he continued, returning her beaming smile. She tapped him lightly on the arm.
"It's like you didn't see me this morning" she tutted. She peered at her watch and cursed as she saw the time.
"Giles! You could have told me the time! I need to go see my doctor about something." Both men in the room looked at her concerned.
"It's nothing to worry about boys, just the results of a test" she said as the opened their mouths to argue. Before they could say any more she fled from the room without another word.
"Women" Lestrade muttered. Sherlock nodded raising his eyebrows.
"Oh for fu-" Karen yelled as another cab squealed past her, this one hitting the puddle before her just at the right speed and angle to drench her from head to toe. She peeled at her now soaking wet t-shirt with one hand, using the other to stick her middle finger out at the cabbie that had now stopped and was apparently having rest mere metres away from the girl he had just drenched.
"Bastard" she muttered, raising both hands over her hair in a vain attempt to stop the rain water from hitting her hair. A sleek black car stopped before her and the door popped open. Karen ignored it and continued to mutter under her breath about the cabbie, which was now openly laughing and ogling her now see through shirt.
"Get in the car, Doctor Johnson" a voice called from within. Karen paled, noticing the car for the first time. Looking inside she noted a pair of Prada black brogues and an umbrella beside the feet contained in them.
"And what if I don't get in the car" she called in, reaching for her bag in the hope of it containing anything that could be used as a weapon. To her dismay her bag was no longer there and upon further inspection it seemed that a man that can only be described as a 'goon' was holding it behind her. How he got it from her arm was beyond her.
"Let's not make this difficult Doctor Johnson, I simply want to talk" the voice called again. Karen looked behind her, there was no-one around and the goon would have stopped her the second she tried to run. With her stomach doing somersaults she stepped into the car, the goon closing the door and heading for the driver's seat.
"I wonder why she's going to a different doctor, she could have just spoken to John" Sherlock muttered under his breath for what seemed like the hundredth time. He continued to thumb through the case file that Lestrade had thrust under his nose absentmindedly, not really paying any attention to what was written in it.
"I don't know Sherlock, maybe it's something that she didn't want John to know" Lestrade replied.
"You mean something she didn't want John to tell me" Sherlock corrected sarcastically. Lestrade sighed.
"Look people are allowed to have their secrets Sherlock and believe it or not but not everyone goes out of their way to work other people's secrets out" Lestrade uttered. Sherlock threw his hands up in the air.
"But Giles! What's the point of that! When you know someone has a secret and it may concern you, wouldn't you go all out to find out what that secret is" he asked exasperated.
"And how would a secret that Karen has, involve you?" Lestrade continued his interest well and truly piqued.
"I don't know!" Sherlock yelled. "I mean she was sick the other day, she might be pregnant.."
There was a moment's uneasy silence as the two of them stared at each other both thinking about what the consulting detective had just said.
"Sherlock... have you gotten Karen pregnant!" Lestrade boomed, fist's raised walking towards Sherlock. Sherlock rolled his eyes, tutting.
"Not me you idiot!" he hissed. Lestrade lowered his fists.
"She may have a boyfriend, maybe he got her-oh I don't know" he said, sitting back down in a huff.
"Yes but how does that- oh... oh I see" Lestrade smirked. Sherlock regarded him from the corner of his eye.
"See what?" he huffed, trying to look nonchalant. Lestrade smiled, leaning back on his elbows.
"You like her- you like Karen. This all makes sense now, your recent good moods, the way she talks about you... the way you talk about her-" Giles! I do not like Karen" Sherlock interrupted him.
"I have no romantic interest in anyone" Sherlock hissed, his face furious for no apparent reason...
"Sociopath- remember?" Sherlock finished sarcastically. Lestrade groaned.
"Sherlock, you are aware I've read you case file- you were never even diagnosed as sociopathic. It seems you just wanted to shut yourself away from the world of emotions after-"
"GILES DONT!" Sherlock practically screamed. Lestrade fell silent. Sherlock glared at him his face furious.
"I know what I am. Nothing to do with... that. I never have and never will be able to love!" Sherlock yelled. With that he turned on his heel and walked from the room, hands in pockets, head down, wanting to shut away the memories Lestrade had unlocked.
"I thought you may appreciate a lift, Doctor Johnson" the man said coolly. Karen looked at him.
"Thank you" she said sniffily. The car was extremely warm and luxurious and she was very aware of her sodden clothes rubbing on the expensive leather seats.
"Although I could have simply saved you the journey, your blood tests came back negative. You're not iron deficient" he said staring out the window. Karen turned to him aghast.
"How... did you know about that?" she whispered. The man turned, only a ghost of a smile on his lips.
"It's my job to know, Doctor Johnson" he replied. Karen shook her head as a file was passed to her showing her test results. She flipped it shut.
"Why do you call me that?" she asked suddenly. The man turned once more.
"What Doctor? Well you are a doctor are you not?" he stated. Karen frowned.
"But... I never registered. I dropped out of medical school in my last year, I don't even know if I passed the final exam." She stammered. Another folder was passed to her.
"Apparently you did, Doctor Johnson. With flying colours." he smiled as her mouth dropped open at the contents of it. She turned and stared at him, unnerved by this man's knowledge about her. The last two things he'd passed to her she hadn't even known about herself.
"What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes?" the man asked, surveying her confused face. Karen's face turned into a frown and she felt her blood run cold, as she realised that he could be taking her anywhere.
"I would think sir, that that is none of your business" she whispered her face serious. The man chuckled.
"That is exactly what Watson said on our first meeting" he said smoothly.
"You've got to Watson?" she said. She moved slightly closer finger raised and pointing.
"Yes, we spoke to him the day he moved in with Sherlock. It took us a little bit longer to get to you, you're always so careful... well almost always careful." at these words he held up a surveillance photo taken only the other day. It pictured the occupants of 221b sitting in the Thai Restaurant on the corner of Baker Street. Karen pinching her nose laughing as Sherlock tried to explain to an exasperated John who was standing cross armed beside him. Another flick of a hand. A security camera photograph of her and Sherlock, walking down the road chatting animatedly. Her looking exasperated, tapping her foot in the line at the supermarket. Her , John and Sherlock standing on Millennium Bridge, leaning over the side looking at the river, Sherlock nudging her and peering around slightly at a man staring at them in the background. Her and Sherlock chasing after the man down a side alley after the man who had just tried to shoot them and had winded John. Her asleep head on Sherlock's shoulder, feet on John's legs in the back of a cab, the same day as the previous two photos.
The man raised an eyebrow, removing the one of her in the supermarket queue. He fanned them out to a gaping Karen.
"You see the common factor here Doctor Johnson? Therefore I change my question, what is your relationship with Sherlock Holmes?" he said emphasizing the word change. Karen glared at him.
"I still fail to see how this is any of your business?" she left the sentence hanging. The man paused for a moment.
"I am interested in him..." He finished slowly for her. And then it suddenly seemed to make sense to Karen as she took in the intelligent eyes and smooth clipped accent.
"Oh" she breathed, relief washing over her face. She ran a hand over her hair smoothing the stray strands back.
"You're Mycroft!" she said clearly relieved. Mycroft frowned and raised an eyebrow.
"I was not aware that Sherlock spoke about me" he whispered. Karen snorted.
"He has mentioned you. John was the one who told me about you, I'm now beginning to think that Sherlock's portrayal of you is a lot more accurate." She muttered, turning away from the elder Holmes.
Mycroft let out a slight woosh of surprise.
"And you realised who I was- how?" he whispered, the low sound levels successfully hiding the shock and stammer that was apparent in his voice. Karen smiled at him cheekily.
"It was just the way you said interested... you have the exact same speech pattern as Sherlock, therefore you were taught to speak by the same people. Therefore you are Mycroft. Brother of my flatmate Sherlock" she said, her eyes bright and wide. Mycroft chuckled, twirling his umbrella in his hand in nervousness.
"It also appears Sherlock has taught you some things... Interesting development" he muttered surveying her from the corner of his eye. She smiled to herself, a faint pink blush appearing on her cheeks.
"Yes... yes he has" she whispered, her voice extremely warm and soft. Mycroft took in the warm smile on her face, and the darkened brown eyes. He patted her hand. She snapped out of her daydream and locked eyes with him.
"Karen... I warn you. Sherlock is a... difficult man to start something with, I mean he seems to have made some steps in the right direction, what with you and John but what you want from him... he's not in the right place to give right now" he said softly, dropping her hand sharply as if she had electrocuted him.
"Wha- what are you implying Mycroft... What I want from him? Look I don't know what impression you have of the relationship between myself and your brother but I can assure you I want nothing from him. Now if you don't mind, I will walk the rest of the way to Baker Street" she hissed, glaring stonily at the elder Holmes. He nodded under her ferocious gaze. She slammed the door, not seeing the smug smile of the man she'd left behind.