A Wife for Sherlock Holmes
Chapter 19 – The Return to London
November 1 2013 – London
Sherlock stood on the top of his brother's building taking in the sights and sounds of his beloved city. He could see the Eye, could feel the breezes, could hear the sounds of the traffic. He was home. Finally he was home after nearly two years.
Home.
He walked down stairs and out the door. A motorcycle was there, running, the driver sat up straighter when he came out. Two gloved hands reached up and pulled off the helmet. She shook her to mid-back long red hair out. "Need a lift?" She asked smiling at him.
"Mari!" He gasped.
She smiled and lifted a spare helmet to him. "How are you, lover?" She asked.
He took the helmet."Okay, but I am driving." He said. "I need to get ready to see John."
She smiled. "Done." She stopped the engine and got off. Standing he could see her full belly. She then took his arm. "Just remember whose bike this is." She smiled as he looked at her from under the shield.
He chuckled and started the bike and she crawled onto the back. She wrapped her arms about him and held on as he started out on the road. He was a very good driver and she knew it. They stopped at all the traffic lights and back to Baker Street.
He pulled up and helped her off before climbing off. He handed her the keys and smiled. "Since when do you drive that?" He asked.
"I have my car still for Lizzy, but this is better to get around London." She smiled at him. She then took his hand.
He rolled his eyes. "You are pregnant." He said. "I am not sure I like the idea…"
"Lizzy is likely still down for her nap." She said changing the subject and he rolled his eyes.
They walked in and Sherlock took her by the arm and pressed her to the wall. He kissed her and smiled as he pulled back. "I love you." He said.
She smiled. "I know."
She went upstairs. Mrs. Hudson came out of her flat holding a frying pan. She saw Sherlock there and shrieked. Sherlock took too steps to her and clapped a hand on her mouth. "Hush, we don't want to frighten the block, Mrs. Hudson."
"But…you…you are…" She murmured against his hand.
He retracted it and smiled. "Of course I am alive. Killing me is so two years ago. Can you make us some tea then and then we will talk?" He turned before she could answer and went up the stairs.
His wife was sitting in John's chair. Sherlock dropped into his and grunted in pain. Marion looked at him. She levered herself up and went to him. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, never better. Why?"
She shook her head and sat in his lap. "Because you are bruised. Did Mycroft let you be beaten?" She asked.
He blinked and shifted his hand to curve over her swollen belly. "He was in the room." He said. "He let them." He took a breath. "I have several bruised ribs, perhaps one broken, and bruising all over."
"You will have to let me rub my creams on them."
"It smells." He complained.
"But it works."
He sighed and nodded as he rolled his eyes. He then looked down. "Oh hello." He said. He pressed his hand to her abdomen. "Do you know what we are having this time?"
She shook her head and looked at him. "I haven't had time for a scan."
He scoffed. "Indeed."
Mrs. Hudson brought the tea and she smiled at them. She made a cup for Sherlock who took it and then one for Mrs. Holmes. She then retreated knowing they would likely want to be alone. Marion smiled and moved to the other chair dropping in as gracefully as she could.
"What are your plans?"
"Going to see John."
"Sherlock, dear, you have been away for two years. He has thought you dead. Are you sure you want to just show up?"
"Yes. What better time?"
She sighed and nodded. "All right." She shifted lifting a case. A violin case. Sherlock's eyes danced as she pulled out her own instrument and stood up and walked to the window and began to play. He was impressed. She had been working hard. He had heard her play a few times before and he smiled loving her that much more as he listened to her playing a lovely piece.
"Mommy?" A soft voice said at the door. Lizzy had crawled down the stairs backwards to get to the main level. She liked her bedroom because it was away from the adults and she could listen to her mother play the violin.
Sherlock's eyes dropped from his wife to the tiny dark haired bombshell that stood wiping her eyes a little, still sleepy. "Lizzy." He whispered.
Marion turned and smiled at her daughter even though she did not stop playing. The little girl seemed to register the man in the room. Sherlock grunted as he rose to his feet and he walked to her. Dropping to a knee he looked at her. "You've grown." He said.
"Who are you?" She asked looking at him with her dark bright eyes.
"I'm your Daddy." He said. "Pleased to meet you." He smiled holding out his hand.
"Mommy said you were away."
"I was. For a long time. Longer than I should have. Do you forgive me?" He asked. He noted Marion had stopped playing and knew she was watching them. He took a breath, his green eyes soft. He never imagined he would be a part of creating such a perfect creature in this world. He cocked his head at her. She was small, ethereal, but those high cheek bones and hair marked her as his. He was also surprised how articulate she was for a toddler.
She looked at him, her dark eyes watchful as she held a small bunny in her hand. He smiled. It was the bunny he had given her last time he had seen her. She looked up at her mother who was nervously biting her lip behind him. Marion nodded a little and the girl's eyes dropped to her father again. She then ran into his arms.
He grunted at the contact and was forced to sit on his knees as the girl hugged him. She had found some of his bruises, but he didn't mind. He wrapped his arms about her and hugged her firmly, careful not to squeeze her too tight. Then he rose to his feet kissing her neck and holding her as she snuggled against him.
"I love you daddy." She told him.
Four words. Four little words from this tiny creature broke him. Tears were in his eyes and he sighed heavily holding her still as he looked back at his wife who had her own tears in her eyes watching happily. She smiled through her tears and started to play a soft lullaby. Sherlock smiled and started to move, rocking a little on his feet before he started to move about the floor. Marion well knew he loved to dance and now he was with his own daughter.
Sherlock smiled as his daughter soon was limp against him and softly snoring again. He looked at his wife who came to him ending the song. He lifted his free arm and wrapped it around her. "I missed this." He said softly. He looked and kissed his wife and then his daughter's hair. "She is so beautiful. Are you sure she is mine?" He asked.
She smiled. "Of course. Who else could have fathered her?" Marion asked. Sherlock moved and shifted the sleeping girl and laid her on the couch. He pulled the blanket down and tucked it about her as the little angel slept on the pillow, shifting to be a little more comfortable. "You know she reads already…" Marion said as her husband bent and kissed the forehead of his daughter as he caressed her thick curls absently.
"Really?" He asked straightening to look at his wife.
"Yes. Basic books, but you should have her read you Socks." She smiled.
He nodded. He turned and walked back toward the bedroom. He well knew that Mycroft had sent his effects over and he stood looking at the bedroom. Little had changed. His wife had done nothing with it. He looked at his sleigh bed. A real bed to sleep in. That would be a treat later. He looked at his watch. It was getting to be close to the time he would need to leave.
Marion watched from the door as he moved about. He undressed hissing as bruises caught a little. She went to him and looked at the bruising on his body. "When you get home, you are taking a long bath in some salts to help these, Mr. Holmes."
"Yes, doctor." He said looking up, his eyes bright.
She helped him, noting how much bandaging he had on him. She helped him pull on a white shirt and then a black suit jacket. He rose to his feet kissing her softly. "I will be home soon. Want anything?"
"I can manage. Good luck, Mr. Holmes."
"I love you." He said.
"I know." She smiled and lifted his coat as he pulled on his scarf. He smiled at her and stepped into it. She had even pulled the collar up for him. She caught his arm. "I love you too. Stay safe. Call if you need me."
"I will text you if I do." He smiled and kissed her one last time, his hands cupping her face. He then released her and went down the stairs to call a taxi. She smiled a little as she turned back to the main room.
ZzZ
It was some three hours later when Marion looked down at her phone in her lap. Marion. I need you to come get me. SH
Where are you?
Kebab place on West Hillshire. I am a little bloody. I do not want any questions on the Tube or a cab. SH
She smiled and rose to her feet. "Mrs. Hudson?" She called.
ZzZ
"I don't understand."He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and holds a paper napkin underneath with the other. "I said I'm sorry. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?" He asked closing his eyes. Mary stood beside him, while John stood a few yards up the road hailing a taxi.
Mary looked up at him. "Gosh. You don't know anything about human nature, do you?"
Sherlock lowered his head to look at her. He let the napkin down a bit. "Mmm, nature? No. Human? ... No."
Mary smiled. "I'll talk him round."
"You will?" Sherlock eyed her curiously.
She smiled confidently. "Oh yeah."
Sherlock eyed her a moment, as words about her floated about her. Deductions he could tell.
Guardian Bakes Own Bread Disillusioned Cat Lover Romantic Appendix Scar Lib Dem Secret Tattoo Size 12 Liar only child linguist Clever part time nurse Shortsighted
She smiled at him and then looked back at John a moment.
John opened the taxi door and looked back at her. "Mary."
She turned to giving Sherlock a last smile, then walked over to John. They get into the taxi and drive away.
Sherlock watched them go. Sherlock looked down thoughtfully as he wiped blood from his nose.
A car pulled up beside him. The window rolled down and Marion looked up at him from her side of the car. "Need a lift?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes thank you." He said. He opened the door and got in. He sat down heavily and looked at her.
"What the hell happened to you?"
"It did not go as I expected it to." He said.
"You were dead to him for two years nearly. Were you expecting him to be happy?"
"I don't know." He said.
She drove him home. She had seen her daughter to bed and then had Mrs. Hudson watching her in case she woke up when she went to get Sherlock. Marion then marched her husband up and to the bathroom. She stood as he stripped and wincing as he did so. She pulled his bandages off him. She then leaned to turn on the water. She made it nice and warm as she added some Epsom salts and peppermint. She nodded to him to step in, which he did.
She watched him relax and turned to get some clothes. "You didn't break your nose." She said. "Thankfully."
"John did that." He said as he felt her washing the blood from him. He opened an eye. "Actually I could get used to this, being looked after."
"You must have taken a knock to the head." She smiled as she rumpled his dark hair.
He smiled and lifted a hand to her face and kissed her softly. "I missed you." He said. "When I was in Serbia."
"Never do that again, Sherlock. The worry…"
He nodded. "I promise." He sighed as she looked down and his bruised body.
"Stay here, I will put the balm on after you have had a good soak."
"Yes, doctor." He said.
She splashed him playfully and he gasped in surprised before reaching up and grabbing her hand and pulling her down for one more kiss. He pulled back his hand still in her hair. "Care to join me?"
She laughed. "Another time, husband." She said.
He pouted a little and she smiled and left him. She walked to the living room and lifted her violin from its case and began to play. The black with a green polish shimmered in the light. She looked out the window and began to play softly as she closed her eyes.
In the bathtub Sherlock cocked his head listening. His wife was as skilled as he was and her violin made him relax more as he listened letting the water soak into his hurts. After sometime he rose to his feet. Dripping he toweled himself off and then drained the tub as he looked at himself in the mirror before going to the bedroom.
He dressed in a t-shirt and loose sleep pants before pulling on a dressing robe. He sighed and walked barefoot back into the common room finding his wife still playing. She was playing a soft mournful lullaby knowing it would keep their daughter asleep upstairs. Evidently, Marion had put her to bed some time ago.
Sherlock stepped behind his wife and embraced her, pressing his face to her shoulder his hands finding her belly. Marion smiled and brought the song to a close as she opened her eyes. She shifted and looked back at him. "Hello, husband." She said.
"Hi." He smiled looking down at her.
She set her violin down gently, back in its case, and then reached out a hand to him. She led him to the kitchen where she had a tea tray. She took it and carried it to the bedroom with him following curiously behind her.
He sat down on the bed and looked at her. "Where are the worst ones?" she asked him lifting a small container.
He grimaced even as she lifted a tea cup into his hands. The warmth and soft smell of chamomile instantly soothed him some. He sighed and lifted his t-shirt revealing the dark bruises on his side and belly.
She nodded and bent to smear some of the herbed balm on the bruises. His breath caught a little at the sensation. She clicked her tongue at him. "Stop it you big baby. It will help."
He frowned and sipped more of the tea as she continued. "It is good I love you…that stings."
She looked and pressed a bruise and he gasped looking at her wide eyes. "You were saying…"
"Nothing." He said looking at her piteously.
She smiled and finished as she pulled the shirt back into place. She leaned up and kissed his lip softly. There was little bruising on his lip under his nose, but she did not place any of the balm there. She put the lid on and then walked to the washroom to wash her hand.
She returned to find him sitting, finishing his tea. She climbed onto the bed with him and smiled as he set the cup to the side. She laid down and sighed. He joined her, his body behind her back, his hand coming and resting on her hip absently.
He pressed his lips to her hair. "What would I do without you?"
"Find someone else." She said.
"Maybe, but between you and John I would be down to Lestrade and that would be awkward."
She chuckled and he smiled. "Go to sleep, you, you need it."
"As do you, for the baby."
She nodded and closed her eyes. He watched her a moment, reflecting on having her in his arms again, in his bed, and how comfortable his bed was, before he drifted to sleep as well.
ZzZ
Evening - November 2nd 2013
Sherlock stood looking in the mirror. "We have work to do." He said looking at his wife.
"Oh?"
"Yes. I need to go round up the crew." He smiled at her. "Molly and Lestrade…"
She smiled. "All right."
They went to Barts. Marion had followed Sherlock out to catch a taxi. Lizzy was contently playing with some of Mrs. Hudson's dishes. Mrs. Hudson as always loved watching the little girl.
Marion went to the lab and found Molly just finishing.
"Molly!"
"Marion!" Molly said coming to her after she removed her lab coat and face shield. They embraced and Molly looked down at her friend. "Look at you. Does Sherlock know?" She asked.
"Of course." Marion smiled. "He was a little startled though."
Molly smiled and touched her stomach. "Oh…it kicked." She grinned happily. Though she knew she never would have a chance with Sherlock, a man she had a crush on and adored, she loved being an auntie. She also was one of only three people on the planet Sherlock completely trusted. The other was standing beside her smiling as Molly touched her expanded belly that housed Sherlock's child. "How is Lizzy?"
"Good. Bright as ever."
"Naturally. Between you and Sherlock…" Molly smiled. "I need to get my things. Then fancy some tea? I heard Sherlock was still running around. Have you heard from him?" She asked leading the way to the locker room.
Marion walked with her and smiled as she hung back and Molly opened her locker door. "I was thinking some chips or…" She gasped seeing Sherlock in her mirror. She whirled to look at him and then Marion who was smiling at them.
Molly smiled as Sherlock came to her and cocked his head at her. "How are you Molly?"
"Good." Molly said. She stepped to him and hugged him. He allowed it and then Molly jumped back looking with wide eyes at Marion who was smiling at them. "Oh, sorry…I didn't…"
Marion stepped forward. "No. It is fine." She smiled. "Come on. Let's get some food. I am starving."
"Well you are eating for two." Sherlock chuckled.
Molly took Marion's arm as Sherlock walked behind them as they chattered to themselves. He hailed a taxi and the girls climbed in and he followed shaking his head. Marion was seated across from Molly allowing Molly to sit beside her husband.
"Tanner pub." Sherlock told the driver.
"You look good." Molly said looking at Sherlock. "A little thin…"
"I will soon have him right." Marion said.
"I have no doubt." Molly smiled. She looked at Marion. "Boy or girl this time?"
"She won't tell me. "Sherlock said.
Marion lifted her hands. "I don't know."
"She won't let me look at the scans either." Sherlock said.
Marion smiled. "I want it to be a surprise."
Molly chuckled. "I think it is a boy."
"Oh? Why?" Sherlock asked his eyes dropping to his wife's abdomen.
"Just a feeling."
Sherlock looked at her quizzically. "Well it is a fifty percent shot."
"Unless it is twins." Molly smiled.
"Oh that is a thought…" Marion mused.
Sherlock's eyes widened. "Don't even joke about that."
"There is only one heartbeat." Marion said reassuringly.
Sherlock look relieved.
The women laughed.
ZzZ
The three had a delightful meal of fish and chips. Marion drank a soda while her husband drank a beer with Molly. The pair saw then their friend back to her car before they drove home. Marion relieved Mrs. Hudson of Lizzy. Mrs. Hudson had a date with a friend.
Marion walked out to the taxi and Lizzy got in looking at her father. Sherlock looked up from his smart phone and smiled at her.
"New Scotland Yard, please." Marion told the driver.
Lizzy leaned against her father and looked up at him. He set his phone down and paid attention to her. "Hello, little duck." He said smiling at her.
"Little duck?" Marion asked.
He smiled. "Whenever she wants me to give her a kiss she makes a duck face." He looked down and smiled. "See that." He pointed to his daughter who was making the face at him before she burst into giggles.
He leaned down and blew against her neck playfully causing her to shriek in delight. He chuckled and let her crawl onto his lap and he wrapped his over coat around her. She laid down, listening to his heartbeat and looking outside as the city and traffic went by. She was sucking her small thumb. He watched her a moment feeling oddly at peace with the small creature he had helped create there totally at peace herself.
They arrived at New Scotland Yard and Sherlock paid the taxi driver as they all got out. Lizzy clung to his leg as she stood looking at the building.
"Where daddy?" she asked.
"At the police." He said looking down at the large bright eyes.
"Why?"
"Because you need to do something for me." He said. He dropped down to her level and adjusted her coat for her. "I need you to go see Uncle Geoff for me."
"Who?" The little girl asked.
"Uncle Greg, Lizzy." Marion said standing nearby.
"Oh!" Her face lit up. "I like Uncle Greg. He has treats."
Sherlock chuckled and rose. "You go with your Mummy."
She nodded no excited to get a treat. "Uncle Greg is a policeman mommy!"
"Yes, I know…" Marion said as the little thing pulled her along excitedly. Sherlock watched them go shaking his head a little.
Marion walked into New Scotland Yard with Lizzy holding her hand. She passed many people and then smiled as she saw the man she was looking for. She walked to the office she knew well and knocked on the door.
"Yeah what is it?" A rather abrasive voice asked.
Marion opened the door and looked in. "Bad time, Greg?"
"Oh, Marion!" His face softened. Then he saw the little girl. "Lizzy!"
She giggled and moved and climbed into his lap has he pushed back from the desk he was sitting behind. "Uncle Greg!"
He smiled hugging her and offering her a sweet as she sat in his lap looking about at everything in his office. He shifted some files and got her a piece of paper and a pencil. She started to draw and he looked up at Marion who stood there watching. Without his own daughter around, Greg had become one of the two male influences in Lizzy's life before Sherlock returned. He was a lot more fun, bringing her treats and small toys. He had even brought her a cake for her second birthday with balloons. Marion was happy to allow him time with her daughter just as she was happy to allow Mycroft with her.
"What brings you two here?" He asked looking down at the drawing. The little girl was drawing stick figures.
"You look like you could use a break." She smiled.
"Yeah." He rose to his feet shifting the girl to his hip. "How are you feeling?" He nodded to her belly. He had always been concerned for her and when they had gone to lunch or he had checked in on her he had looked after her welfare. She had been grateful for his caring nature. She still could not believe his wife had left him because of work. If she had been of a similar mindset Sherlock and her would have been a nonstarter.
"All right." She said. She touched her belly. "Very active tonight."
He smiled and looked at her, lifting his hand and then cocking his head. She was actually grateful at the silent asking of her permission, but he was allowed. She pressed his free hand to her and he smiled. "Oh, wow. Active little mate, eh?" He looked at Lizzy. "Are you excited to be a big sister?"
"Yes. I want to play dolls."
He nodded, smiling, and led the way downstairs and out into the car park. He sighed as he set down the little girl. "I don't have a patch…do you care if I smoke?" He asked.
Marion smiled. "Just this once."
He nodded a little as the little girl stood looking in the darkness. Marion watched her husband walking into the shadows. Greg continued rummaging in various pockets. Something metallic clinks noisily a little way away. Greg looked around but can see nothing and resumed his search until he finally found what he was looking for.
Marion smiled at him. "Tell me how have you been? You seem stressed."
He sighed. "Yes, a bit…"
He tipped a cigarette out of the pack, he stuck it into his mouth, put the rest of the pack back into his pocket. He then flicked his lighter and raised it towards the end of the cigarette as he held it in his mouth. Marion lifted a hand to cup the flame in the breeze that was making it dance.
A voice, Sherlock spoke in the darkness. "Those things'll kill you." He said.
Greg froze, the flame not quite reaching the end of his cigarette as he stared into the distance while his brain catches up with what and who he just heard.
Finally he lowered his lighter and looked at Marion then back where the voice had come from. "Ooh, you bastard!"
"Creative." Marion said.
Sherlock materialized out of the darkness." It's time to come back. You've been letting things slide, Graham." He said, hands behind him.
"Greg!" Marion and Lestrade said together.
"Greg." Sherlock said. "Thank you for looking after my family while I have been aw…"
Greg stared at him for a long moment, his lips slowly lifted to reveal his teeth. Grimacing, he lunged towards Sherlock. He wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug. Sherlock groaned as his words were cut off. He looked at his wife who was smiling at them playfully. He rolled his eyes, but tolerated the affection.
Greg let him go just as Lizzy ran to her father. Sherlock picked her up. She leaned and hugged Greg and gave him a sloppy kiss before going back to her father who blinked as she shifted his coat and pulled it over her. Apparently she had liked being with her father and felt very safe and secure there. Sherlock sighed and shook his head as the small group walked together with Sherlock speaking to Greg and Lizzy falling asleep in her father's arms as Marion walked behind them.
ZzZ
November 3th 2013
Sherlock looked at his spider web on the wall. Behind him, on the floor was Lizzy coloring and quietly humming. Marion came with some tea and looked at the wall.
"What have you got there?" She asked.
" London. It's like a great cesspool into which all kinds of criminals, agents and drifters are irresistibly drained." He was in a red dressing gown, but wearing a collared shirt and suit jacket unbuttoned as well as slacks.
She lifted a tea cup to him and he took it cocking his head at her. "Sometimes it's not a question of "Who?" it's a question of "Who Knows?"" He sipped his tea and looked down at her. He then pointed at a picture had. "If this man cancels his papers ... I need to know." He said.
"So your homeless network is back working for you."
"Of course. They are better than any of us." He said. "This is good tea."
"New brand." She shrugged looking. "Who else…?"
He pointed to a woman "If this woman leaves London without putting her dog into kennels, I need to know." He got a text and looked down. He nodded and put a pin in the wall with a string leading from the picture of the woman. "There are certain people, they are markers. If they start to move, I'll know something's up, like rats deserting a sinking ship."
Marion nodded. "I see." She sighed.
She sipped her own tea and dropped onto the couch as her husband stood looking. "Mycroft called. He is coming shortly."
"Is that why you have the tea ready?" He asked.
"Behave." She said. "He is coming to talk to you and to see Lizzy."
Sherlock looked back at his daughter. "He is almost human with her." He smiled as the little girl lifted her drawing of her daddy with Uncle Greg looking at something. "What is that, Lizzy?"
"Daddy helping the police. Uncle Greg says he helps you."
"True." He smiled and he looked down. "I know this scene. Where did you see this?" He asked lifting a picture of a crudely drawn person lying in the morgue. Eyes closed, face pale, remains of a wound to the head in red near the hairline…
"With Uncle Greg."
He blinked and showed his wife who looked at the picture in horror. Sherlock, however smiled. "She will be smarter than Uncle Mycroft yet." He chuckled. "She has eidetic memory." He said. "And she is only three." He grinned. "Well done, sweetheart."He said to his daughter who looked up at him and grinned.
"Sherlock…she drew a corpse?!" Marion said lifting the drawing.
"From memory." He said walking into the kitchen and getting a treat. "She must have seen it on his desk." He clicked his tongue at his daughter and she looked up and he tossed it. She caught it in her mouth and crunched it happily as she went back to her drawings.
Marion just stood, hands on hips watching them. Lizzy sat back and opened her mouth expectantly at him. Sherlock smiled at her and tossed another treat to his daughter who caught it easily and he smirked.
"She isn't a dog…."
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I know that…"
"Oh?" She asked.
"Of course. Dogs can't catch like she can." He said playfully tossing another which his daughter again caught and crushed it in her mouth, smiling as she looked in triumph at her work on the floor. "Besides, she started it. She was tossing her cereal up into the air this morning and catching it. Clever little thing. She only missed about three of those. I just made it further away. Amazing hand eye coordination…"
Marion shook her head and moved to toss the paper she held, but Sherlock looked at her.
"Oh no! We are keeping that one." Her husband said moving to stick it on the refrigerator with a magnet. Marion looked at him and shook her head and Lizzy grinned in triumph.
ZzZ
The doorbell rang. Marion had insisted that it be fixed and she went to the stairway and waddled down as Sherlock moved to have his daughter clean up her drawings. Mrs. Hudson opened the door and Marion paused on the steps and smiled as she looked at Mycroft standing there.
Mrs. Hudson smiled and turned. "I'll make you some tea, Marion."
"Thank you." Marion said.
Mycroft came in and cocked his head at Marion. "Well, you seem to be doing well."
Marion chuckled. "Yes." She turned and walked back upstairs with Mycroft behind her.
Sherlock looked up as his daughter put the last picture away. Marion stepped to the side as Mycroft joined her on the landing. The tiny bombshell ran to her uncle and hugged his legs startling him. He looked down at her.
"Hello, Lizzy." He commented. He stepped more forward and then lifted a book he was holding of Grimm's Fairytales. "I brought you this." He said.
She took it in her small hands and touched it.
"Lizzy…manners." Marion said softly.
"Oh! Thank you uncle Myc!"
He smiled a little and then watched as she opened the cover to look. Sherlock stepped forward. "It is time for your nap, little miss." He said. "If you nap well maybe you can read this when you get up." He said taking the book from her. She squawked in protest and then pouted.
Mycroft shook his head and removed his coat, putting it on the back of the chair. Sherlock was in his dressing gown still, but fully dressed. He sat down becoming comfortable in his chair.
Marion took her hand and led her to her bedroom upstairs as Sherlock looked up. "I mean it, young lady. Nap!"
"Okay…" she said.
Marion saw her to bed and then returned down to the living room. She sat down on the couch and laid back, resting as her husband and his brother sat down in the chairs a table between them. They were playing something as they began to converse.
"All very interesting, Sherlock, but the terror alert has been raised to Critical."
Sherlock's eyes lifted and locked with his brother. "Boring. Your move."
"We have solid information. An attack is coming." He looked down to make his move.
"'Solid information.'" A secret terrorist organization's planning an attack "that's what secret terrorist organizations do, isn't it? It's their version of golf." Sherlock said. His hand deftly moved something.
Mycroft was suddenly serious. "An agent gave his life to tell us that."
"Oh, well, perhaps he shouldn't have done. He was obviously just trying to show off."
Mycroft's eyes narrowed. "None of these markers of yours is behaving in any way suspiciously?" He looked down and moved again. "Your move."
"No, Mycroft, but you have to trust me. I'll find the answer. It'll be in an odd phrase in an online blog, or an unexpected trip to the countryside, or a misplaced Lonely Hearts ad…" He glances down briefly and made a click with his tongue before his eyes lifted again. "Your move."
Mycroft glanced down. "I've given the Prime Minister my personal assurance you're on the case."
Sherlock rolled his eyes. " I am on the case. We're both on the case. Do you want Marion on the case too?" He asked gesturing toward his wife who appeared to be napping. "Look at us right now."
"I am on the case…" Marion said without opening her eyes. "By default…"
On the table between them a red light flashed and a buzzer buzzed. "Oh, bugger!" Mycroft hissed. He angrily dropped the small tweezers he was using in their game of Operation.
" Oopsie!" Sherlock taunted.
Mycroft set the piece back.
Sherlock looked down at which piece Mycroft had failed to remove successfully. "Can't handle a broken heart, how very telling."He looked smugly at his brother.
Mycroft looked up. "Don't be smart."
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "That takes me back." He then adapted a little boy's voice. "Don't be smart, Sherlock. I'm the smart one."
Mycroft glared at him. "I am the smart one." He said darkly.
Sherlock looked reflectively. "I used to think I was an idiot."
Mycroft cocked his head as he sat back. "Both of us thought you were an idiot, Sherlock. We had nothing else to go on 'til we met other children."
"Oh, yes. That was a mistake."
"Ghastly. What were they thinking of?"
"Probably something about trying to make friends."
"Oh yes. Friends. Of course, you go in for that sort of thing now." He looked over at Marion. "And relationship."
Sherlock looked at him closely. "And you don't? Ever?"
Mycroft gave him a look. " If you seem slow to me, Sherlock, can you imagine what real people are like? I'm living in a world of goldfish."
Sherlock put his palms together looking at his brother. "Yes, but I've been away for two years."
" So?"
Sherlock shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I thought perhaps you might have found yourself a" He looked up and smirked a little. " ... goldfish."
Mycroft looked at him appalled. "Change the subject now!" He stood up and went to the fireplace.
"Rest assured, Mycroft whatever this underground network of yours is up to, the secret will reside in something seemingly insignificant or bizarre."
Mrs. Hudson arrived with tea coming in with the soft cooing sound she made when she entered without knocking. Marion smiled and sat up. "Hello." She greeted.
"Speaking of which ..." Mycroft said.
Sherlock smiled.
Mrs. Hudson smiled. "I can't believe it. I just can't believe it! Him sitting in his chair again!" She looked up at the pair of them. "Oh, isn't it wonderful, Mr. Holmes?"
"I can barely contain myself." Mycroft said sarcastically.
"Oh, he really can, you know." Sherlock said pointing at his brother.
Marion smirked into her tea cup.
"He's secretly pleased to see you underneath all that…" She made a face as she walked to the door.
"Sorry which of us?" Mycroft asked.
She paused. "Both of you." She then continued out.
" Let's play something different." Sherlock said placing his hands on the armrests.
"Why are we playing games?" Mycroft asked looking at him.
"Well, London's terror alert has been raised to Critical." Sherlock unlocked his legs over the table and set them down again in front of him before standing up. "I'm just passing the time. Let's do deductions." He went to the table and lifted a warm winter hat with bobbles on the end of the strings. " Client left this while I was out. What'd you reckon?" He asked tossing it to his brother.
Mycroft instinctively caught it. His eyes narrowed. "I'm busy."
"Oh, go on. It's been an age."
Mycroft lifted the hat. He sniffed it absently. "I always win."
"Which is why you can't resist."
"I find nothing irresistible in the hat of a well-travelled anxious sentimental unfit creature of habit with appalling halitosis ..." He stopped and looked up at his younger brother's widening smile. "Damn." He tossed it back to his brother who caught it.
"Isolated, too, don't you think?"
"Why would he be isolated?"
""He?""
"Obviously."
" Why? Size of the hat?"
"Don't be silly. Some women have large heads too." Sherlock winced a little at this insult, but his brother continued. "No, he's recently had his hair cut. You can see the little hairs adhering to the perspiration stains on the inside."
Sherlock looked down at the hat and pouted a little. "Some women have short hair, too."
"Balance of probability." Mycroft said. He looked at his sister-in-law who was watching them highly amused.
"Not that you've ever spoken to a woman with short hair or, you know, a woman."
"Yes I have. She is right there…" Mycroft said.
"She doesn't count. She is family." Sherlock said.
Mycroft let that slide. "Stains show he's out of condition, and he's sentimental because the hat has been repaired three, four ..."
"Five times." He threw the hat back to Mycroft. "Very neatly. The cost of the repairs exceeds the cost of the hat, so he's mawkishly attached to it, but it's more than that. One, perhaps two, patches would indicate sentimentality, but five? Five's excessive behavior. Obsessive compulsive."
"Hardly. Your client left it behind. What sort of an obsessive compulsive would do that?" Mycroft tossed the hat back and looked at his brother who looked at him exasperatedly. "The earlier patches are extensively sun-bleached, so he's worn it abroad, in Peru."
"Peru?" Marion asked.
"This is a chullo, the classic headgear of the Andes. It's made of alpaca." Mycroft said taking a step forward.
Sherlock smirked. "No."
"No?"
"Icelandic sheep wool. Similar, but very distinctive if you know what you're looking for. I've written a blog on the varying tensile strengths of different natural fibers."
Mrs. Hudson returned with more hot water in the tea pot. "I'm sure there's a crying need for that."
Marion tried to cover her laugh with a cough into her tea cup.
Sherlock paused eyeing the women a moment before looking back at his brother. "You said he was anxious."
"The bobble on the left side has been badly chewed, which shows he's a man of a nervous disposition but ..."
"... but also a creature of habit because he hasn't chewed the bobble on the right."
"Precisely."
Sherlock sniffed the hat. "Brief sniff of the offending bobble tells us everything we need to know about the state of his breath." He turned away. "Brilliant."
"Elementary."
"But you've missed his isolation."
"I don't see it."
"Plain as day."
"Where?"
"There for all to see."
"Tell me."
Sherlock looked up and said in an almost childlike taunting voice. " Plain as the nose on your ..."
"Tell me."
Marion looked up at him. "Sherlock…"
Sherlock turned back. "Well, anybody who wears a hat as stupid as this isn't in the habit of hanging around other people, is he?"
"Not at all. Maybe he just doesn't mind being different. He doesn't necessarily have to be isolated."
" Exactly."
Mycroft blinked a couple times. "I'm sorry?"
Sherlock looked up. "He's different so what? Why would he mind? You're quite right." He put the hat on and looked back at his brother pointedly. "Why would anyone mind?"
Mycroft stepped forward. "... I'm not lonely, Sherlock."
Sherlock stepped to him, looking at him intensely. "How would you know?" Sherlock took off the hat and moved away.
Mrs. Hudson came out of the kitchen and smiled at him.
"Yes. Back to work if you don't mind. Good morning." He looked down. "I can't imagine how you tolerate him." He said eyeing his sister-in-law. She smiled and lifted her hand. He kissed it lightly and then smiled. "I will call later." He walked to the door a little wide eyed at the conversation.
Sherlock winked at Mrs. Hudson who giggled a little as she walked back into the kitchen. Marion shook her head as Sherlock came back to her.
"Right. Back to work."
She smiled up at him. He looked down. "What?"
"Despite how much you play it, you really love playing your mind games with him."
He chuckled. "Only if I win, my love." He touched her cheek and then looked up at the wall.
"He is a good man. Why do you pick on him?"
"I never thought I would like a wife…and here I am with one." He smiled. "Perspective always helps."
"Is that your way of telling me I should look?"
"It is my way of giving him a dose of reality."
She shook her head. "Now where were we?""
"Way to change the subject…"
"It needs to happen." She lifted his phone. "You have been getting texts for an hour."
"Ahhh." He said lifting it to look.