Hello everyone! Sorry this chapter came a bit late. I've been busy, taking summer classes and all that. On a happy note, I recently went on a major rollercoaster for the first time! It was so fun. What do you guys think of rollercoasters? And heights? I find that the higher and faster you're going, the better.
Sherlock and John sat in silence for most of the cab ride home. Once the taxi pulled up outside 221b Baker Street, Sherlock let out an exasperated sigh as soon as he saw the closed front door.
"What is my brother doing here?" He got out and headed for the front door.
John tetchily called out after him. "So I'll just pay, then, shall I?"
Sherlock got to his doorstep and glared at the door knocker. "He's straightened the knocker." He turned to John as he got out of the cab. "He always corrects it. He's OCD. Doesn't even know he's doing it." Sherlock pushed the door knocker so that it was crooked again and let himself in.
Sherlock stopped and rolled his eyes at the sight of Mycroft waiting for him on the stairs.
"Well then, Shelrock. Back on the sauce?" Mycroft asked condescendingly.
"What are you doing here?" Sherlock hissed.
"I phoned him," John said.
Mycroft continued. "The siren call of old habits. How very like Uncle Rudy. Though, in many ways, cross-dresssing would have been a wiser path for you. Now, save me a little time. Where should we be looking?"
"We?" Sherlcok frowned.
Anderson's voice sounded from upstairs. "Mr. Holmes?"
"For God's sake!" Sherlock said furiously. He stormed up the stairs, Mycroft and John following him. Sherlock stepped into the kitchen and glared at Anderson.
"Anderson," Sherlock said angrily.
Anderson raised his gloved hands apologetically. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. It's for you own good."
Sherlock turned and and walked toward his armchair, where another member of the search team was sitting, reading a book. The man hurriedly scrambled out of the chair and scampered away. Sherlock flipped his hood up and climbed into the chair.
Mycroft came into the kitchen and looked towards Sherlock. "Some members of you little fanclub. Do be polite. They're entirely trustworthy, and even willing to search through the toxic waste dump that you are pleased to call a flat."
Sherlock curled up sideways in his chair and rested his head on one of the arms, closing his eyes.
"You're a celebrity these days, Sherlock. You can't afford a drug habit."
Sherlock opened his eyes and looked at Mycroft irritably. "I do not have a drug habit." He was lying of course, but he didn't want to admit defeat to Mycroft.
John was focused on a large space between Sherlock's chair and the kitchen. He pointed. "Hey, what happened to my chair?"
"It was blocking my view to the kitchen," Sherlock replied.
"Well, it's good to be missed."
"Well, you were gone. I saw an opportunity."
"No, you saw the kitchen."
Mycroft turned to Anderson. "What have you found so far? Clearly nothing."
"There's nothing to find," Sherlock said.
"Your bedroom door is shut." Sherlock sighed as Mycroft slowly walked along the hallway. "You haven't been home all night. So, why would a man who has never knowingly closed the door without the direct orders of his mother bother to do so on this occasion?"
Sherlock raised his head and flipped his hood back as Mycroft progressed. He finally reached the door and placed his hand on the door knob. Sherlock hurled himself into a sitting position. "Okay, stop! Just stop." Mycroft turned the knob but didn't open the door. "Point made."
Mycroft released the door knob and slowly came back along the hall. "Have to phone our parents, of course, in Oklahoma." Sherlock stood up and walked closer to his brother. "Won't be the first time that your substance abuse has wreaked havoc with their line-dancing."
Sherlock opened the door behind Mycroft. "What was I going to say? Oh yeah. Bye-bye." He pointed the way out.
Mycroft walked around him, then turned to face him. "Unwise, brother mine."
Immediately Sherlock seized Mycroft's left arm and twisted it behind his back, then slammed him face first against the wall. Mycroft cried out in pain. Sherlock breathed rapidly, his voice venomous. "Brother mine, don't appall me when I'm high."
John hurried over to Mycroft's side. "Mycroft, don't say another word. Just go. He could snap you in two, and right now I am slightly worried that he might."
Mycroft pushed himself free of his brother's grip and held his left arm in pain. Mycroft glared at Sherlock.
"Don't speak. Just leave," John instructed softly but firmly. He bent down and picked up Mycroft's umbrella. John straightened up and offered it to him. Mycroft snatched it from his hand and left.
Sherlock returned to the living room. He stood, stretching and rubbing the back of his neck. "What time is it?" he asked as John entered the room.
"About eight."
Sherlock sniffed deeply and sighed out a disgusted breath. "I need a bath." Sherlock gave John a small smile as he went over to the bathroom. "And stay out of my bedroom," he called through the closed door.
As soon as Sherlock was out of sight, John hurried over to his friend's bedroom door, curious to see what his friend had in there. Apparently, whatever it was, it was enough to warrant a warning to John to not go inside. Of course, John had to go look. He had just reached the hallway when the door of Sherlock's bedroom opened and a familiar face popped into view.
"Oh, John. Hi," greeted Janine. She opened the door a little wider, revealing that she wasn't wearing anything on her legs. Embarrassed, she pulled down her shirt. "How are you?"
John stared at her in disbelief. Who was this woman in Sherlock's bedroom? And why was she in there? She seemed familiar...Oh right. She was one of Mary's friends. She was going to be one of the guests at the wedding. "Janine?"
"Sorry. Not dressed." Janine headed toward the kitchen, and John moved aside to let her pass. "Has everybody gone? I heard shouting."
"Yes, they're gone."
Janine glanced at her watch. "God, look at the time. I'll be late." She walked over to the counter and picked up a mug. "Sounded like an argument. Was it Mike?"
"Mike?"
"Mike, yeah. His brother, Mike. They're always fighting."
"Mycroft," John corrected.
"Do people actually call him that?"
"Yeah." John frowned, unable to believe what was happening.
"Huh. Oh, could you be a love and put some coffee on?"
"Sure. Right, yeah."
Janine headed back towards the hallway. "Where's Sherl?"
John breathed the name out with an amused breath. Sherl! He grinned. "He's just having a bath. I'm sure he'll be out in a minute."
"Oh, like he ever is!" Janine walked along the hallway and knocked on the bathroom door, immediately opening it and going inside. "Morning! Room for a little one?"
John could hear Sherlock's laughter and Janine's giggling commencing through the walls.
John sat at the edge of the coffee table while Sherlock paced across the living room, wearing black trousers, a jacket, and a clean, white shirt.
"So, it's just a guess, but you've probably got some questions," suggested Sherlock.
"Yeah. One or two, pretty much."
"Naturally." Sherlock turned towards the kitchen, where Janine stood, also fully dressed, enjoying her cup of coffee. Smiling, Sherlock sat down.
"You have a girlfriend?"
"Yes, I have." Sherlock pulled out a random file and commenced giving John a rapid spitfire of information about some case. But all John had in his head was the thought that Sherlock had a girlfriend, onethat wasn't Molly.
"Yes, you have."
"Sorry, what?"
"You have a girlfriend."
"What? Yes! Yes, I'm going out with Janine. I thought that was fairly obvious."
"Yes. Well...yes. You are in a relationship?"
Sherlock blinked at him. "Yes, I am."
"You and Janine?" John stared at him for a moment. Sherlock and Janine had nothing in common. Well, he didn't know much about Janine, but nobody really had anything in common with Sherlock.
"Mmm, yes. Me and Janine."
"Care to elaborate?"
Sherlock drew in a long breath, deciding on what to say next. He looked up thoughtfully. "Well, we're in a good place. It's um...very affirming." Sherlock smiled at him.
John, not convinced, pointed accusingly at him. "You got that from a book."
"Everyone got that from a book."
John looked around as Janine emerged in the room. He smiled politely at her.
"Okay you two bad boys, behave yourselves." Sherlock smiled happily at her as she sat down on the arm of his chair. He put his arm around her as she leaned close to his face. "And you, Sherl, you're going to have to tell me where you were last night."
"Working," he replied. John stared at the two awkwardly.
"Working. Of course. I'm the only one who really knows what you're like, remember?"
"Don't you go letting on," he said softly. He laid his hand on her arm. They stared deeply into each other's eyes. John just gawked some more, unable to believe what he was seeing.
"I just might, actually." Janine tore her eyes away from Sherlock and looked across to John. "I haven't told Mary about this. I kind of wanted to surprise her."
"Yeah, you probably will."
"But we should have you two over for dinner really soon!"
"Yeah," agreed Sherlock.
"Oh, I'd better dash. It was brilliant to see you!"
"You too," John said. He turned and watched Sherlock escort Janine to the living room door and open it for her.
"Have a lovely day. Call me later," Sherlock said affectionately.
Janine adoringly looked up at him and fiddled with his jacket. "I might do. I might call you, unless I meet someone prettier!" They kissed, and quite noisily so. John looked away from their intimate moment, still unsure of what to make of all this new information. Janine pulled back. "Solve me a crime, Sherlock Holmes." Grinning, she turned and left the room. Sherlock smiled as he watched her go, but the smile was wiped clean off his face as soon as she was out of sight, an act that went unnoticed by John. Sherlock strode back to the living room, where he resumed to tell John all the details of his latest case, all while gesticulating rapidly. John, of course, still wasn't listening. He had but only one thought in his mind.
"What about Molly?"
Sherlock frowned at being interrupted, and at the fact that John still wasn't listening. Of course, it was only just a fake case because his real case involved Janine, but John couldn't know that yet. And besides, the fake case was really interesting. How could John not be paying attention?
"What about Molly?" Sherlock asked.
John stared at him, befuddled. "Aren't you two still..." He was at a lost for words. It's not like they were technically dating anymore, but it was only a matter of time before they did. Things were just...complicated.
"Together?" Sherlock suggested. "And no. We've been apart for months now. Molly's clearly moved on and...so have I." Sherlock turned away from John to hide the sadness on his face. He could deceive pretty well, but his last lie was hard to get out.
John leaned back in his chair. He didn't particularly believe Sherlock, about the whole moving on thing. Perhaps Janine was just a rebound? Molly and Sherlock were clearly perfect together. But he couldn't discourage Sherlock from dating, John didn't want him to remain a social recluse, so all he said was, "Okay."
Janine walked out of the flat of 221b with a huge grin on her face, thinking of all the things she had on Mary. For some time, Janine was suspicious that Mary was planning something, something to get rid of her. But Mary wouldn't dare try anything, as Janine was now dating the world's one and only consulting detective. If anything happened to Janine, he would surely come to her rescue and trace all the clues and trails, which would eventually lead to Mary, thus destroying her life as she knew it. Plus, if anything bad happened to Janine, Sherlock would be devastated, and as a result, so would John. Mary wouldn't do that to her boys. She smiled as she waved over a cab, unaware of what Mary was actually capable of doing. Sure, blackmailing a former assassin was dangerous and risky, but Janine had Sherlock Holmes as her insurance.
A large wind suddenly blew, howling through the streets and causing several papers to fly about. Janine hurried into the cab that just pulled over, shielding her hair from the harsh wind.
The cabbie turned around, a pipe dangled from his mouth. "Bad east wind, eh? It's only going to get worse."
"Yeah, whatever. Take me to CAM Global News please."
So how did you like that? Be sure to leave a review! What do you guys think Molly's secret is? And what will Mary do in response to Janine blackmailing her? Things are only going to get worse.
I've recently become an editor/beta reader for CastingAnthems. "Recreating Love", one of their stories, is about Roman, Irene's son. When Irene gets killed, Roman has to move to London to try and find his father, Sherlock Holmes, who has no idea he exists! If it sounds intriguing, check it out! It's quite wonderful.
"There's an east wind coming all the same, such a wind as never blew on England yet. It will be cold and bitter, and a good many of us may wither before its blast. But it's God's own wind none the less and a cleaner, better, stronger land will lie in the sunshine when the storm has cleared." -Arthur Conan Doyle