The Beginning of Trouble
Jim and Miranda were lying in her bed still flush from earlier activities,
"You're insatiable!" she said.
Jim merely smirked back. A few heart beats later he shifted to the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh.
"James? You're not staying the night?"
"I don't think I should tonight,"
"Why not?" the criminal mastermind made a show of hesitating,
"I feel a bit weird about it with Doctor Watson hanging around,"
"Weird why?"
"Just something he said," Jim made a good show of pretending to look uneasy,
"What?"
"I'm sure he was just joking …"
"Joking about what?"
"Us … you know … our relationship."
"Our … what about it was funny to him?"
"Well … he didn't take it very seriously – guess he's the laidback … casual sort."
"I'm not surprised – I could tell straight off he is a ladies man. I said so earlier didn't I?"
"Hmmmm,"
"What's that got to do with you leaving – don't you want to stay and show him how a real man treats a lady?"
Jim refrained from rolling his eyes … somehow,
"Of course. Its just he made some joke about joining us and I …"
"I hope you told him no way!"
"Oh absolutely but I would rather not give him any incentives," Miranda looked hurt and confused,
"Why didn't you mention it earlier in kitchen, when I asked if I should speak to Mycroft? Surely this is something he should know?"
"I'm sure even with the crisis in the … I mean I'm sure Mycroft properly checked into Watson's history." Jim said and gave a slight indication he wasn't very sure at all.
"It gets me all hot when you talk about work," Miranda said wriggling seductively in bed.
Jim mentally sighed – why was everyone so, so stupid,
"I know you do my dear but I'm not allowed to say anything you know that." He made sure to sound very disappointed,
"Oh I know you're always so secretive – I like that too." Suddenly she headed in the direction Jim had been trying to led her,
"You never normally let anything slip – is it bad? Are you and Mycroft really busy?"
"It's felt like we haven't had any spare time at all. Especially with Sherlock … boy has such bad timing I'd almost think it was deliberate." Jim muttered and it suddenly seemed as if he dropped all masks and become a tired almost pathetic person in front of Miranda eyes'.
"Oh my poor love – yes I'm sure that brat does it on purpose always sneaking into Mycrofts' office and getting into places he shouldn't on the internet. You don't have to pretend with me. If you just wanted to sleep tonight you should have said. I'd have understood." Jim stayed quiet for a breath waiting …
"So you've been so busy … Mycroft probably haven't had time to do all the usual checks on Doctor Watson! And the way they met … not how Mycroft usually does things …"
'Finally!' Jim felt like jumping up in celebration but carefully concealed all the sneaky joy he was feeling,
"Well in truth he was weary … thought it might have been some sort of plot but you know Lady Holmes once she gets an idea …"
"There's no stopping her, none at all. Ok love I understand but I'll miss you and in the morning and I'm talking to Mycroft. I know his work is important. But even though Sherlock is a brat he does liven up the place."
Jim leant over to kiss her and pulled the cover back over to tucked her in tightly,
"You are just so tempting especially when you get all maternal," he cooed and left quickly. Even though most people were like sheep; running an underground criminal network was tough enough let alone while keeping up with a day job. Especially when some brat was always trying to stop you … time to see what damage the teenager had done recently. Jim thought to himself as he walked through the vast house to his own room.
John woke with a start in the early hours of the morning. It seemed he had sweated through at least one nightmare but was either simply too tired to wake up or a hot meal and comfortable bed was enough to keep him asleep. He thought about the previous day. He was looking forward to spending more time with Sherlock and he liked Mrs Hudson and Lady Holmes and he could respect Lord Holmes. Dealing with James, Miranda and Mycroft was a little daunting but hardly the scariest part of John's life to date. He hadn't been told of any morning arrangements so he got his laptop out again got out a few thousand words about how well he hoped his sister would cope with detox and therapy. He wanted to write about Sherlock and all the Holmes' but thought Mycroft would disapprove and while he had decided he wouldn't let that interfere in his role as Sherlock's doctor, he and Harry were relying on him having this job.
It was still before 6am but he got up feeling sure he would not be the only early riser.
Mrs Hudson was in the kitchen wiping the sides down,
"Good morning," John said after moving silently to stand next to her,
"Oh! Doctor Watson you gave me a fright,"
"Sorry, can I help with anything?"
"Oh that would be lovely thank you – would you mind making some toast for Sherlock. He probably won't eat it so put whatever you like on it."
"Will he be awake this early?"
"He normally doesn't sleep at night – too busy on his computer, so I expect he'll be awake. It's normally only Mycroft's drugs that get him to rest at all, except for a few naps when his tutor is here."
John couldn't help but feel surprised though he really thought he ought to know better by now,
"Has he ever had some sort of bed time routine?" he asked,
"Well people have tried. His mum bought all the books and had all the experts come and try. Sherlock has just always done things his own way. You're the only person he seems to even listen to these days," Mrs Hudson said as she got out two loaves of freshly smelling bread.
"Here you are dear – you take as much as you like," John eyed up the two loaves of thick bread while Mrs Hudson got out the butter, honey and the largest variety of jams, marmalades and chocolate spreads John had ever seen. As each jar landed in front of him John's smile got larger,
"I have an idea," he said,
"What's that?"
"Taste test!"
"Taste test?"
"Yes – for Sherlock … and me," John said eyeing up some mango lime jam. He popped four slices of bread in the toaster and grinned at Mrs Hudson,
"That sounds lovely she replied and moved over to join him. They laughed together as they planned each triangle.
Meanwhile James Moriarty was not having such a good morning,
"I will get you your computers as promised," he said firmly into his phone.
"You had better or I want my money back – and with interest you hear?"
"Of course Mr Lynch but I really think you should calm down and remember who it was that helped you get to where you are," The voice on the end of the phone laughed.
James did not like being laughed at,
"Look at the little butler with his little empire – you may have given me a hand up but I'm much more powerful than you now and I want my computers do you hear me?"
James slammed his mobile phone down onto his chest of drawers. Taking a breath to calm down he cursed Sherlock's interference – Mr Lynch had been quite a useful contact but for his disrespect and the hassle of finding him new computers James quickly sent a text ordering the man's 'accidental' death. He also needed to find out how much the soon-to-be-deceased man knew about him and how he found it out.
He checked his other mobile to see if he had any messages from Mycroft and seeing there was none he opened his laptop and set about finding out how Sherlock had found his latest import/export business – and what exactly the teen had done with twenty-six stolen American Military computers.
In another part of the house John carried a tray of forty-eight carefully arranged triangle pieces around a selection of cut up fruit pieces down to Sherlock's bedroom. He knocked and entered after a sleepy voice said,
"Come in Doctor Watson,"
"I brought you some breakfast,"
"I'm not hungry," the teen said yawning,
"Oh well I can't eat all this by myself but I sure am going to try," John said smiling at Sherlock's blinking and half-asleep eyes. His hair was even more ruffled than usual and he was completely covered by his thick duvet. John put the tray down on the desk and opened the curtain. The sun was yet to come up and Sherlock frowned as he looked at the clock.
"I slept for four hours!" Sherlock said dragging a silk-covered arm out from under the duvet and after pushing his hair away from his face, rubbed his eyes,
"Mrs Hudson said you usually stay awake all night?"
"Mrs Hudson is right," Sherlock said absent-mindedly trying to work out when he drifted off to sleep. He remembered suddenly and jerked upright reaching for his laptop. Unfortunately the movement sent shock waves of pain up his back and he gasped,
"Being injured so severely means you will sleep more often," John said calmly helping Sherlock sit up slightly,
"Hurts," Sherlock said breathing deeply and closing his eyes,
"I know and it will for quite some time yet. Here you are due a pain pill but you need to eat something with it alright?"
"Are you bribing me Doctor?"
"Not at all – just nimble on this tiny piece of dry toast and when you get to the crust I will fetch your pain pill from my room."
Sherlock wanted to sit upright properly and argue but another shooting pain had him groaning and reaching for the offered bread instead.
"You're mean!" he muttered into the warm bread,
"You have to be cruel to be kind, you have to be cruel to be kind in the right measure," John sung softly in reply. Sherlock stared at him in surprise,
"Sometimes being a doctor isn't all kindness and lolly pops," he said and shrugged his shoulder – the one with the bullet hole in. Sherlock's eyes flickered to it but didn't say anything. As he was nearing the crust John walked the short distance to his room and collected the pills that would allow Sherlock to move a little with reduced pain. He had so far ignored Mycroft's mystery pills. When he returned Sherlock had sat up further and was looking with interest at the massive tray of food. He sought to hide his interest when he heard John come back and the Doctor hid his smile as he handed Sherlock two strong pills and a glass of water. He watched the teen take them and then settled down onto the chair by the desk and looked hungrily at his breakfast. He felt Sherlock's eyes on him as he moved his hand over the toast searching for the tastiest treat,
"What are those?" Sherlock asked eventually,
"What are what?"
"The little flag things?"
"Oh those – they are labels. I thought I'd try out all the various jams and stuff you have in your kitchen." John said gleefully picking up the mango lime triangle,
"What's that one?" Sherlock asked,
"Mango lime … yummm," John said and laughed out loud as Sherlock pulled a face,
"Sounds gross," he said but looked over the rest of the plate,
"What else is there?"
John stood and carried the tray over placing it on the edge of Sherlock's bed. Then he pulled his chair up and held it. The teen looked vaguely disgusted at some of the combinations,
"John you can't possibly eat Nutella with raspberry jam!" he said,
"Hey that's my favourite!" he said reaching for it but missed out as Sherlock snatched it up. Seconds later the teen was licking the crumbs from his fingers,
"Did you enjoy that?" John asked sulkily,
"I did yummy … what else do you have?"
"Try this one," John said passing one over,
"Ewwwww,"
"Sorry," John laughed slightly,
Sherlock suddenly snatched the piece John had taken a bite out of,
"Hey!"
The two were soon giggling over the different tastes.
Mycroft watched from his study with near disbelief. He shook his head, smiled and then tuned all the monitors off – he had another busy day and it looked like Sherlock was in safe hands.
"Lord Mycroft sir?"
"Miranda good morning I was about to leave …"
"I wanted to speak to you about Doctor Watson,"
"Quickly then,"
"He was a little inappropriate last night,"
"Really? In what way?"
"He wanted to join me and James last night. In bed."
"You and James …?"
"Yes sir,"
"You are quite clear he wanted to bed you and James?"
"Yes sir," Mycroft gazed into her eyes as if looking into her soul and she shivered slightly,
"Interesting," he said slightly offending Melinda but missing the reaction for once. He turned back to the black monitors, mentally picturing the scene: John and Sherlock, head's bowed and coming together over the breakfast tray.
"Nothing in his history indicated homosexual experience or examination but then he was in the army." He muttered to himself,
"I'll look into it I promise," he said and with a fake smile continued,
"I really must be off now," and waited,
"Oh right, well have a good day sir," she said and quickly left.
Mycroft waited a beat longer before picking up his phone,
"Check his file again. Check everything," his assistant, wonderful young lady that she was knew who he was talking about.
"Am I looking for anything in particular sir?"
"Perhaps,"
"Yes sir,"
Mycroft hung up and gathered his things quickly. With one last look at the blank screen he left for his office in Westminster. As always his car stopped on his doorstep just as he started down the steps. He did not look back as he entered his car or as it drove away but it took more effort than he expected.
"You checked thoroughly?" Mycroft asked his assistant and the closest person he had to a friend. Knowing him so well she knew he had changed topic away from Doctor Watson,
"Yes every copy has been completely wiped," she didn't manage to hide her smile as she continued,
"By you apparently sir,"
"Sherlock must have guessed yesterday's password … I should have you choose them,"
"Yes sir…" he could hear the eager delight in her voice and sighed,
"Then again perhaps not,"
"Yes sir," she didn't hide her smile knowing he would hear it in her words anyway.
"More than ten minutes gone," Mycroft said with dismay,
"What do you think happened?"
"I very much think that depends on who Sherlock didn't want to see it,"
"You mean yourself or …"
"James yes. Might even have been mummy and daddy,"
"What do you think?"
"I think he was either filling Doctor Watson in on his ridiculous suspicions about James or …"
"Or …?"
"Or he was asking the Doctor for drugs,"
"Do you think that likely after what's just happened?"
"I think my brother's immense intellect is matched only by his stupidity,"
"Do you think Doctor Watson would give him some?"
"Not easily but Sherlock can be very persuasive,"
"What do you intent to do?" Mycroft paused and reflected on his options,
"Nothing for now. Just go through everything on Doctor Watson again as quickly as possible."
"Of course sir." And with that they drove the rest of the short journey in comfortable silence, each clicking away on their phones.
At his office Mycroft read through the new reports that had come in overnight and knew it was going to be a very long day which meant he likely wouldn't be home until late evening. He sent his parents a text letting them know and asking them to keep watch over Sherlock. He sent similar texts to Melinda and James and then settled into his usual international crisis routine.
John was just finishing the last of the fruit while Sherlock was licking off the last of the toast topping's – too full to eat the bread but still curious about what everything tastes like, when the lightly ajar door opened fully and Lady Holmes entered (without knocking of course).
"Oh Sherlock look at the mess …" She said before fully realising what she was seeing,
"What?" he asked innocently before sucking at the mix of jams that was all over his fingers, pyjama top and bedding,
"Sorry ma'am," John said jumping to his feet and trying to subtly brush crumbs from himself and the bed.
"No … it's … I …. Ummm … carry on," aware she had totally ruined the easy-going fun and hoping it would return as soon as she left backed out the room and dashed to the lift. As soon as the doors clanged shut Sherlock burst into laughter and after looking at him John sank back into the chair and half groaned half laughed.
"Perhaps jam wasn't the best idea," John said looking at Sherlock's ruined clothes, bed and even a smear on the wall.
"Nonsense best fun I've had in ages," he said eyes still alight with mischief.
"Great but how are we going to get you cleaned up?" John asked unthinkingly moving his jam-covered hands to cradle his face as he thought. He instantly realised his mistake and groaned as Sherlock burst out laughing again.
In Mycroft's study Lord and Lady Holmes were watching the screen with amazed joy,
"There's my happy little boy," Lady Holmes said with teary eyes while her husband hugged her tightly as they felt years of built up stress lift from their shoulders.
Thinking over Sherlock's medical records John ummed and arred before finally deciding Sherlock would be ok to move from his bed to John's bathroom.
"Are you going to give me a bath?" Sherlock asked with a raised eyebrow,
"Yes," John was still puzzling through the particulars when there was a knock on the door,
"Lady Holmes sent me to … goodness look at the mess in here" Melinda said glaring at Doctor Watson. Sherlock instantly noticed the change in attitude and feared James had sullied her opinion of the good doctor.
"Yes I know … sorry about this," John noted the bedding in her arms,
"Right," he rubbed his aching shoulder and sighed as he got more jam every where.
"I'm going to go get washed and changed, start Sherlock's bath and then help you with all this and …"
"Get more jam over yourself!" Sherlock said mockingly and John sighed,
"Ok you first – let me start your bath," John moved towards the door,
"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked,
"You are not bathing in that … that room!" John replied forcefully and left,
"John is a good man," Sherlock said quietly to Melinda. She huffed. And said quickly and quietly,
"I don't think you're the best judge of character." Sherlock raised an eyebrow,
"Mummy, daddy and Mycroft agree with me."
"For how much longer." She said worryingly but before Sherlock could question her further,
John returned with jamless fingers.
"Ok I'm going to help you up and into my room now ok?"
"I will be fine on my own," Sherlock said impatiently,
"Sure you will but I don't have the strength to pull you up if you trip over any of your stuff so please just let me help. It would be embarrassing for me to have to get Mycroft to have to come help you up."
"Nice try but Mycroft is at work." John waited a minute as Sherlock tried to move his legs out from the covers,
"Oh alright," the teen said as the effort of moving just his legs became apparent,
"Great thank you," John crossed the room and eased back the covers avoiding the jammy parts. He slid a supporting arm behind Sherlock's back and pulled Sherlocks' legs around so he was sitting on the edge of his bed with his bare feet on the floor,
"Ready to try standing?" he asked and Sherlock merely huffed in return and moved forward as if to get up. Pain suddenly returned and he yelped in surprise, freezing where he was. Melinda moved round so she could see exactly what was going on,
"Maybe this is a bad idea," she said noting the pain on Sherlock's face with alarm.
"No … I can … do this!" Sherlock said and tried to move forward again. This time the pain was less and as he was standing straighter John was able to support more of his weight. When he was fully upright and had taken a full step Sherlock sneered,
"There that was easy,"
"Shut up and let's go," John could feel his leg shaking and his shoulder was tingling.
Sherlock listened to his own body for a beat before putting one foot in front of the other. It was barely twenty steps to John's bed but Sherlock sank into it gratefully. As John stood upright he groaned his relief too. Melinda had followed them and was watching from the door,
"Can you stay upright for a beat?" John asked,
"Yes,"
"Ok I'm going to test the temperature and then we can get rid of this top and have you settled soon enough."
Sherlock merely scowled at him,
"Ok then," John quickly walked into the bathroom and put his elbow in the still running water. After a beat he was back supporting Sherlock,
"Ok take your top off and we can get you clean,"
"Not with her watching," Sherlock said,
"Um alright thanks Melinda," She hovered by the door a bit longer before turning away. Sherlock unbuttoned his top and John helped him get his arms out before supporting him to stand again. Sherlock groaned and tried to remove his pyjama bottoms,
"Leave them on," John said as soon as he realised what the teen was doing,
"Why?" Sherlock tried to turn to look at John but the Doctor easily prevented that,
"Oh right you're embarrassed. Isn't that unusual for a doctor?"
"This whole thing is a little unusual," John said taking a step towards the bathroom. Sherlock let himself be led,
"Not for me," he muttered and John looked at the teens back and then over his shoulder at his chest, flinching at the scars he had guessed would be there. Stopping by the side of the tub John steadied the teen and then took more of his weight as he lifted one leg and then the other into the warm water. He hissed,
"Is it too warm?"
"Hot yes, ouch!" John quickly turned off the hot tap,
"Sorry here sit on the edge," he directed. Once Sherlock was sat he lifted his legs out the water, resting them on the other side of the bath and sighed as they cooled,
"Sorry," John said again,
"You actually have baths this hot?"
"I didn't have a bath in my old place but yes I shower in this temperature,"
"Afghanistan," Sherlock muttered suddenly understanding,
"Spending a lot of time in a desert can affect how one reacts to different temperatures I suppose however I have always liked really hot showers," John said.
Sherlock put one leg back into the water which was now more tolerable,
"I'm ready to try that again," was all he said.
Meanwhile in a non-descript office building Mycroft was sat behind a large desk with one eye on the BBC Parliament news channel, a phone headset to his ear chatting away in German while moving clusters of post-it notes around. Occasionally he reached for a small ultra-fast laptop and typed into it.
There was one sharp knock on his door which opened and 'Anthea' entered. She handed him a folder and left. Opening it Mycroft interrupted the Chancellor to end the call so he could give the papers his full attention. It was Doctor John Watsons' military file – with nothing redacted. As with all the previous reports it was full of glowing commendations and words of praise. Mycroft had already concluded the Doctor was an adrenalin junkie who perhaps should take better care of himself but like his commanding officers Mycroft assumed John would place himself in danger to safeguard Sherlock. He was worried the pair could get into all sorts of scraps together but he thought he would be able to manager that: it would be quite far in the future after all.
The first hint of trouble was the lack of information about where John stayed while he was home. His sisters' details were given but Mycroft knew this to be worryingly incorrect. A quick search on his laptop found numerous facebook posts which painted a picture of John flittering from one woman's home to another.
However it was on the last page of the report that was the real concern. There was a link to another report which Anthea had included. This report was a thin investigation into the treatment of prisoners. Or rather the mistreatment. There were a few inconclusive photographs but what was eye-catching was one doctor's belief that a specially trained torturer or doctor had caused the wounds. Since the government didn't employ torturers suspicion had fallen heavily on the only doctor stationed nearby – Doctor John Watson.
Mycroft re-read everything then ordered his assistant to have someone search the man's home while no one was there. He checked on the screen showing his brother's bedroom for a long moment before re-focusing entirely on his work. Forcing himself to only check on his brother every hour or so.
WC – 4,350
Author's note: I'm so sorry it's been years since I last updated anything and I can't promise I'll get any better. It's stupid; the longer I didn't update the more I tried to write which meant the longer I didn't update and so on.
I'm posting this and a few other things to prove I'm not dead and I've not forgotten any of these but I've still not finished any of them … yet.