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The Nails Of Terror (Chapter 10)

09:50, Monday: Brick Lane, The Crime Scene

On my way up the stairs again for like the hundredth time in the past ten minutes I run into police men, people in white clothes and masks and of course Anderson.
"So how was your day so far, Shara?" Anderson asks. His voice is always weirdly sweet when he's talking to me. He never used this kind of voice just only for his wife. But since they divorced… I'm starting to get scared.
"Well it was great so far! What's better way of starting a day then a bombing?" I answer sarcastically.
"Ha, ha, ha! Really funny, Shara! Sherlock is weirdly happy today. He's never happy… Did you do something with him? Or is it just that he can work with you?" He asks.
"Well, I don't really know he's not telling me either." I look up as I can hear quick steps.
"Well…" He walks a bit closer to me and he takes a deep breath through his nose. "I like your perfume today and I think you look stunning…" And he takes my right hand and gives a kiss to my hand. As I clear the cloud of embarrassment from around my head I realize that Sherlock is standing right behind Anderson. Sherlock lifts his right hand up and puts it on Anderson's shoulder.
"What the…" He jumps, drops my hand and turns to the way where the hand is came from.
"I don't think that the lady enjoys your presence, Anderson; and I certainly don't think that she enjoys when you touch her. Now, haven't you got anything to do?" Sherlock asks.
"No, nothing really…" Anderson tries to answer.
"Well then, go and have a coffee or something. Shara has to help me now! GO!" Sherlock cuts into his words. And he leaves without even a sound. He rushes downstairs.
"Thank God, you came! Thank you… I didn't think I could have spent one more moment with him!"
"Well, I just need your help, that's all." And he takes his phone out of his right coat pocket and sends a message to someone.
"Oh… " I sound really surprised.
And he's already rushing down the stairs.
"Why are always rushing Sherlock?" I ask as I run after him, but he's already in a cab with me on his heels and he's not answering.

10:35, same day, Tapas Brindisa Soho Restaurant

"I see you got my message…" Sherlock says to a person sitting at a table right next to the entrance with a really big window which is looking out to the street.
"Yep, and if I'm not mistaken this young lady right next to you is Shara Rogers. Isn't it?" And he jumps up grabs my right hand so softly and gives a kiss to it. "Let me introduce myself… I'm Mycroft Holmes…" And he lets me to take my hand out of his.
"So... Sherlock and you are… brothers?" I ask in a surprised voice. "You two are like fire and water! Completely different! I can tell that from my first impression of Mycroft."
"That is really true…" Mycroft starts his sentence again. "And sometimes I can't even believe that he's my little brother! He's always playing around…" And he sits back on his seat that he sat in before we walked in.
"And how much older are you, Mycroft? From Sherlock?" I ask in a curious voice.
"Seven years…" Mycroft answers quickly. He has the same calming, strong and somehow in the same time kind and soft voice like Sherlock does.
"Not exactly…" Says Sherlock as he calls a waitress over to our table. "It's only six years and eleven months."
"We both know, that we add that one month to the seven years, not taking away…" And Mycroft gives an interesting look to Sherlock… and maybe that's why he wants to answer but he shuts his mouth.
"See… I always win." Mycroft gives a smug look for Sherlock, he leans back in his seat and he's still not saying anything.
"So, seven years and… a month. Wow…" I say in a really surprised voice again.
"But, somehow he always gets the pretty ladies around him…" And now he looks back at me.
"What do you mean?" I ask in an embarrassed voice and I can feel that I'm blushing.
"Well…"
"Don't even think about it…" Sherlock murmurs under his breath before Mycroft could finish his sentence.
"Oh, since when do you care about anyone in the world?" Asks Mycroft in a surprised voice. Sherlock is not answering, but he leans forward. You can definitely see that he wants to say something. "Oh…" Mycroft resumes his sentence. "The little Sherlock is fallen in love! Well it's not the first time, I guess… Let me think what her name was… Oh, I got it! Irene Adler!" The grin is on his face again.
"Shut up…" Sherlock murmurs again.
"Why would I? Everyone knows that you loved her!" Says Mycroft with a laugh.
"Can you not bring this up now?" Sherlock finally bursts out. And everyone is looking at us. "I don't want to talk about this now! And Moriarty is somewhere out there and there could be another bomb that he made that could explode in any second!" By now everyone gets back to the thing that they were doing.
"Oh, yeah! I've heard about that!" Mycroft leans back into his seat.
"Guys why don't we just order something? We can discuss everything over a nice warm plate of… I don't know… Lunch?" I'm trying to calm the situation.
"As you wish…" Answers Mycroft.
"What can I get for you?" Asks the waitress who was standing right next to our table for the last five minutes.
"Nothing." Sherlock answers.
"Well I accept a cup of tea please." Mycroft answers.
"I'd like a cup of tea too, but with some digestive biscuits, please." I finish the order.

"So, what did you found out after you had a look around the crime scene?" Asks Mycroft after we get our tea and biscuits…