Solved the same day I gave it to you? New record. -MH
Marie solved it. She was bored. - SH
You trust her judgement? - MH
I checked it. She was right. - SH
Sherlock put his phone away. He didn't want to talk to his brother. He looked at his current experiment, then at John reading his paper. Sherlock thought back to when he was 15...
"SHERLOCK!" His father bellowed from the front room. He sighed and walked down the tall spiral staircase that lead to his room at the top of the house. He liked it up there. It made him more distant from his family.
"Yes father?" he asked not looking up from the rubix cube he was solving. It took him 10 seconds.
"Your brother is home. Where were you? You were meant to greet him at the door with us!" he took the rubix cube out of his hand and threw it across the room.
He slapped Sherlock across the back of his head.
"Sorry..." he said while rubbing where he had been hit.
"Hello Sherlock." said his brother looking at him in the eye. Sherlock didn't feel as intimidated by his brother anymore, not now that he had overtaken him in height in during Mycroft's final year of university.
"Mycroft." he said. He looked at his brother. New suit, wanted to impress mother and father, looked smug so obviously wanted to show off his new job in the government... Being the government-
"And how is my favourite brother?"
"I'm your only brother." he said and looked down at him.
"Sherlock!" his mother said and scowled at him.
"It's fine mother." said Mycroft. "He's just jealous that I'm getting attention and not him."
Sherlock frowned at his brother. Not true at all. He hated attention. The more distant he was from his family the better.
"So what's your new job?" asked Sherlock trying to avoid awkward chit chat and get back to his room. It was clear that his new job was why he was there.
"It's government stuff Sherlock. I wouldn't expect you to understand." Mycroft said with a sly smile. He knew he would but he enjoyed making his parents believe his little brother was an idiot. Being the favourite out of the duo, it wasn't hard to do.
"Can I go to my room?" Sherlock asked his father who frowned.
"Fine." he said and Sherlock picked up his rubix cube and ran back upstairs.
He sat at his desk and looked at the newspaper his father had left for him to read. Carl Powers? Mysteriously died after a fit in the water... For once something interesting in the news.
He sneaked down the stairs and and down the hallway. He heard his parents talking to his brother about his new government job. They were so proud. He wasn't jealous but he didn't like his brother getting too much attention from his parents. Who knows what he might say about Sherlock?
He went out the door and ran to his bike. He rode to the swimming pool where the incident happened. It was closed off by the police but he snuck in through the back door. He found the locker with Carl Power's stuff inside. He leant to look at what contents there were, moving his dark curly hair out of his face. Where were his shoes?
"Oi! You!" shouted a voice. Sherlock ran outside knowing it was the police. He jumped onto his bike and cycled as fast as he could. No one followed. He slowed his pace but it began to rain heavily. It was 2 miles to his house. How was he going to explain him being this drenched? He sighed and continued cycling. His hair was sticking to his face and his clothes became heavy. The wind was pushing against him, making it harder to cycle and he was getting colder and colder. He saw the rain wasn't going to stop any time soon so he took a detour.
He rode nearer the centre of London. He liked central London. There were so many different people he could analyse and make deductions about. But he always rode down the same road, Baker Street. He liked it. He would like to live their when free of his parents. He smiled at the older woman putting out the rubbish. Mrs
Hudson her name was, they had spoken on several occasions, even though Sherlock wasn't very good at socialising. He stopped at speedy's and got a tea, black, two sugars, to try and warm up. He looked at his hands and saw they were shaking from the cold. Any other person may have thought he was afraid, afraid of his parents. Ha, emotions, they pulled you back.
He returned to his bike and cycled home. No point keeping father waiting any longer. He knew he had a beating ahead of him.
"Sherlock?"
"Yes John?" said Sherlock, looking back into his microscope.
"We have a client."