Sherlock story

Forgotten Memories, Introduction Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to BBC along with the talented writers and amazing Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch. No money was made. The story however is my original thought, and comes out of my overactive imagination. Other characters introduced are also mine.

** Thank you ; ShiverandShamy, Puky2012, Prothoe, christistina, briongloid fiodoir, socalrose, Voldemort101, and hjohn302 for your review of chapter 4, and 5. Thank you waterbaby84, Burning Phoenix, Jenna Yemowa, Peacefreakx3, eohippus, Nietzsches and for your review and PMs. Cyber hugs to all! **

Author's note: Thank you to the 495 readers of this story so far. Thank you for your support, you mean more than you know! Do not forget to leave a comment or review. :)

T rated but some future chapters may be M.

**A special thank you to everyone who takes the time to comment or review or PM. It is encouraging as well as helpful.

Enjoy.

"No one ever drowned in sweat." ~ Dan Gable

Current Day

Hurried footsteps rapidly tapped against the marbled floors. Agent Thomas heard the doors behind him swing open. He could tell by the sound of the shoes as it rapidly struck against the floor and the soft thud of the doors that swung open too quickly, that it was a lower level staffer who had urgent news.

"Yes," he said impatiently without turning around. His attention was on the blueprints that were laid out on the large wooden oval desk. It was one of many papers and files in the mist of the organized clutter. Thomas' mind had to have order, so even though there was files, folders and pictures everywhere, he could close his eyes and put his hand instantly on whatever was needed.

Thomas inserted his hands into his suit trouser pockets. He closed his eyes for a moment as he breathed away the frustration. He could hear her breathing as she waited for him to acknowledge her with his full attention. He turned around.

"Sir," she said wide-eyed and somewhat breathless.

"What is it?" He now took more interest as he observed the expression on her face.

"The scans that you requested. The results are back."

He took it from her without losing eye contact. "What did you find?"

Mycroft had Anthea coming in and out to conduct business. It seemed that the government had to continue despite Mycroft Holmes grief.

He was sitting cross-legged on the chair by his bed with a laptop on the table when John entered the room. John had not even had time to take off his jacket when he observed Thomas and Anthea walking in hurriedly.

He looked from Anthea face then to Thomas. His eyes stayed on Thomas.

"Quickly and succinctly what did you find Thomas?"

"Sir, we found something. The ultrasound detected it under the debris; it will take another twelve hours to reach the area. It appears to be an intact room or a space. We are not sure yet. The blueprints does not support that any such space should exist."

Mycroft looked away and thought for a moment.

"Anthea, if you'd be so kind as to get my spare suit from the office. Tell the doctor that he will need to discharge me in the next two hours."

Anthea frowned but simply said, "Yes Sir." She quickly walked away as her hands danced across the screen. Mycroft eyes met John's and he said then. "Thomas if you could bring the car around and then met me back here."

Thomas looked from Doctor Watson to his boss, back to Doctor Watson before saying. "Yes sir." He quickly disappeared through the door. He glanced briefly at both men as he closed the door.

There was a moment of tense silence. Mycroft broke it.

"John, are we about to have our second argument, or is it third?" He smirked.

John stood with his arms crossed. "You need to stay for, at the minimum, another day or two."

"John, they were about to discharge me today."

"That was before the incident where you nearly fainted and you know it. Your blood pressure is up. You're still nauseated, you hardly eat or drink and you have a mild concussion Mycroft."

"I'll be careful. Besides, my blood pressure is always up. I work for the government and Sherlock is my brother."

John started to smile. "You're the Ice Man; your blood pressure is never up. You in fact, make other people's blood pressure go up, with the exception of Sherlock, of course. On that one, you have my sympathies."

Mycroft sighed as he stared at John. He raised an eyebrow then asked, "John is there some reason that that ridiculous smile is on your face?"

"You said is." Mycroft raised his left eyebrow to join the right in question. "You said Sherlock is your brother not was your brother." After a brief pause, "Daring to hope are we?"

After a brief silence, "Perhaps."

Mycroft stared at John for a moment. "Well, are you going to stand there with your arms folded or are you going to help me?"

"Oh… Sorry." John moved over to help Mycroft up as he opened his overnight bag and carried requested items into the bathroom. The luxurious room was obviously for very important patients.

"Mycroft, I'm going with you," John said as a matter of fact. He was fully prepared for an argument.

"I suppose it would be easier than answering your frequent and excruciatingly annoying calls on the hour."

"I was planning for every half an hour actually. You see Mycroft; we have gotten to know each other quite well."