Being held at gunpoint loses its luster after a half-brother straps a bomb to your chest. That's an outlier, Danielle suspected. Most people would be freaked having a gun pointed at them any time at all. Hell, during that same time, her bullies were held at bomb point too and they would DEFINITELY freak out if anyone held a gun at them.
Many nightmares of the early days came from the idea of Sherlock being late that night. Of Moriarty getting fed up waiting, being too bored to keep around the simpering idiot he was unfortunately related to, or maybe just 'because'. Or the nightmares showed Danielle's calm normalcy broken by a random attack on Moriarty.
A man held a gun at her head. Not out of maliciousness at her, or even something random. The man- and his fellow gunmen- aimed their glares and ire at the Woman. It's not about her. Danielle just happened to be there. Even that ninja assassin wanted to kill her for seeing too much. These men probably wanted to kill her if the Woman did nothing.
But the Woman could do something.
Sherlock always did something.
Danielle never felt safer in her life.
A man pushed John into the room.
"Sorry, Sherlock." John said, as he knelt beside Danielle.
"Ms Adler, on the floor." One man ordered, glaring at the Woman. "The other one too."
They pushed the doctor, 'encouraging' him to kneel. On his bad leg?! Danielle needed to hurt one of them yesterday. They made Danielle kneel too, but that hardly matters.
Danielle knelt. She moved her hands behind her head, quickly looking at the lot. Five men, all with guns, aimed at the three people kneeling and then another at the door. The man in charge kept a gun aimed at Sherlock's head.
Sherlock moved his hands to his head. His usual look of 'will you continue to be stupid, or will my suffering be short?' clear on his face. Most people only saw that face because of Anderson, which Danielle did not blame him for. She wanted the suffering to be short too. "Don't you want me on the floor too?"
"No, sir, I want you to open the safe." The man ordered.
Sherlock gave him a slight smile, eyes widening just so. "American. Interesting. Why would you care?" He glanced over at them.
Actually no, not them. Just the Woman. Danielle glanced over too. The Woman shifted under his focus. At Danielle's current position, she was taller than the Woman and John. Every strand of perfectly curled up into- buns? Poofs? Whatever that hairstyle is, it kept Danielle's attention in a vice grip.
"Sir, the safe, now, please." The man ordered.
Oh. Right. The hostage situation.
"I don't know the code." Sherlock replied.
"We've been listening. She said she told you." The man snapped. The leader of the whole situation, up against Sherlock. Wow, that's a problem. That's a reason to be worried. In that scenario, Sherlock either saves them in a blaze of glory that adds hundreds of followers to John's blog. Or he'll get them all killed. A real coin flip of a conundrum.
"Well, if you'd been listening, you'd know she didn't." Sherlock countered.
"I'm assuming I missed something. From your reputation, I'm assuming you didn't, Mr Holmes." The leader snarled.
"I was here, and she definitely didn't say it." Danielle added. "Not a clue or anything."
The man behind her moved. Her shoulder got jostled, as he pushed her. As she righted herself, she found the barrel of his gun against the back of her head.
"For God's sake. She's the one who knows the code. Ask her." John snapped at them.
"Yes, sir. She also knows the code that automatically calls the police and sets off the burglar alarm." The leader replied. He sneered at the Woman again, before going back to having a stare off with Sherlock. "I've learned not to trust this woman."
"Mr Holmes doesn't-" The Woman began.
The leader had the gall to cut her off. She wondered how he got the brain power for that. "Shut up. One more word out of you-just one-and I will decorate that wall with the insides of your head. That, for me, will not be a hardship." He barely glanced their way again. "Mr Stewart. At the count of three, shoot Miss Nolan."
Ah. The being killed option. The most likely option. Pity. Danielle wanted to speak to the Woman again without blundering it. It's not likely, but it made her happy.
"What?" John gawked.
"I don't have the code." Sherlock insisted, tense.
The man behind her moved his gun. Mr Stewart, apparently. He moved the gun to the base of her skull, right where her hairline stopped. A good place for a bullet, probably. Her heart thumped against her ribs. If she got shot, would the blood splatter on the floor around them or on the Woman and John?
She had tea in Buckingham Palace this morning, and now she'd be dead in a dominatrix's tea room.
"Then, Mr Archer, shoot Doctor Watson." The leader ordered.
"Oi!" Danielle scolded, surprised at the ferocity in her voice.
"One." The leader began.
"I don't know the code." Sherlock repeated. His bright blue eyes darted to Danielle, then John, back and forth in a Sherlockian state of frenzy.
"Two."
"She didn't tell me." Sherlock looked at the Woman. "I don't know it!"
"I'm prepared to believe you any second now." The leader replied, no warmth or shift in his voice. Still intending to kill them, in a second. "Three."
"No, stop!" Sherlock shouted.
Danielle raised her chin. She'd faced death before, afraid and scared. This time, she'd die with her head held high. She lived about as good a life as one could, in her circumstances. Her will was up to date. Felix's current flat didn't allow pets, but he got 223 in the will and Mrs Hudson would definitely enjoy having him around and-
Hold on. Shouldn't she be dead already?
Danielle glanced over to the leader. He'd raised his hand at the others. It stalled them shooting. Oh. That's nice. Good. Danielle liked being alive.
Sherlock walked over to the safe. With one last glance at the Woman, he began typing in a code. Six digits, to perfection by the sound of the lock clicking.
"Thank you, Mr Holmes. Open it, please." The leader instructed.
Sherlock turned the hatch. Danielle really wanted to live now, to hear what the code was. She thought she saw him typing some 3's and 2's, but not much beyond that.
"Vatican cameos." Sherlock snapped.
Danielle ducked.
A gunshot went off.
Danielle reeled around.
Mr Stewart stayed standing. The gunshot came from the safe, hitting Mr Archer who fell over John. Quickly, Danielle reached for Stewart's gun. The American was clearly startled at watching his coworker being shot. Can't blame the man, it helped Danielle snatch his gun away. Upon realizing he was disarmed, he stared at her. Danielle raised the gun to his chest, aiming for the heart.
Danielle smiled. She'd actually done it! Woohoo! Those self-defense courses paid off.
"D'you mind?" Sherlock asked.
"Not at all." The Woman replied.
The Woman had her would-be-shooter on his knees. She used his own gun to pistol whip him.
Danielle whacked her man in the legs with all her strength. He yelped, tumbling back onto the couch. She got up to her feet, beaming. Sherlock took out the leader, and John was disarming the possibly dead man.
"That went well." Danielle praised them all. Ten seconds ago, they were all at gunpoint. Now a man was dead, two were knocked out, and the fourth would be in a big bit of trouble any second. They should be proud of what they achieved.
John got up to his feet. "He's dead." He told them.
The fourth tried to leap off the couch. John- who now stood at Danielle's side- punched him in the face. You know in cartoons when a man gets hit so hard birds fly around his head? That's what John did to this bloke. He fell back on the couch in a dead faint.
"He's fine." John added.
Danielle snorted. Sometimes, her friends were funny.
"Thank you. You were very observant." The Woman praised too.
"I thought so too." Danielle nodded. She would've messed up on Stewart if John wasn't there.
"Observant?" John turned to the Woman.
Danielle did too, confused.
The Woman was smiling at Sherlock. More than a little pleased, dare she call it impressed? "I'm flattered."
Sherlock showed no such expression. As everything that just happened was a regular occurrence, Danielle hadn't expected it. But after being complimented by the Woman, how does your face not even twitch? "Don't be."
"Flattered?" John repeated.
"Was it the code? Or the fight?" Danielle only saw one, and the after effects of the other. Both of them impressed her, for sure. She's sad she missed seeing Sherlock kick arse. Then again, she only missed it because she was kicking arse, so that's fine. She did get to see the Woman beat up a man on his knees, so that's also made her day.
"There'll be more of them." Sherlock rushed towards the door. He walked into the hall, to the exit. "They'll be keeping an eye on the building."
Danielle joined him, worried for either an attempted escape or to see him kick arse again.
"Should we call Mycroft?" Danielle asked. "Tell him about the mess?"
"No, we should call the police." John stated.
"Yes." Sherlock raised his stolen gun in the sky. He fired five shots. It startled a laugh out of Danielle. "On their way."
"That's one way to do it, yeah." Danielle giggled, shaking her head. Saved them three the trouble of actually talking to Mycroft.
John huffed. "For God's sake!"
"Oh shut up. It's quick." Sherlock walked past Danielle, back into the house. The three went back to the small room, finding the Woman standing by the safe. Sherlock turned to John. "Check the rest of the house. See how they got in."
John nodded, going off. Danielle started to go but Sherlock gestured for her to stay close.
"Well, that's the knighthood in the bag." Sherlock told her.
"For all four of us? I should hope so." Danielle beamed.
"Ah. And that's mine." The Woman held out her hand.
Sherlock brought a phone out of his pocket. Danielle never saw him grab it, or anything. It must've been after the whole debacle. But they got the pictures they were after. Even better day!
"All the photographs are on here, I presume." Sherlock reasoned.
"I have copies, of course." The Woman replied.
"No you don't. You'll have permanently disabled any kind of uplink or connection. Unless the contents of this phone are probably unique, you wouldn't be able to sell them." Sherlock countered.
"She's never been interested in selling, though." Danielle reminded him. Sherlock gave her a side stare. "Well, she told the royal family she had the photos, but didn't want to sell them. Whatever else she's got, she wouldn't sell that either."
Sherlock gestured to the four bodies around them. "Well, why would they be interested? Whatever's on the phone, it's clearly not just photographs."
"Well...Mycroft sent you." Danielle said.
If the British royal family was so desperate as to send Sherlock Holmes to collect photos merely for existing, it's not a stretch to imagine other governments doing the same. Americans wouldn't care this much about some sexy pictures, they'd want something bigger. Missile plans on a thumb drive, bigger. Granted, she's only saying that because the leader said he'd researched her. And they only actually came after the Woman after Sherlock eased the way open.
The Woman was getting better and better with each passing minute.
"That camera phone is my life, Mr Holmes. I'd die before I let you take it." The Woman kept her hand outstretched for the phone. "It's my protection."
Oh. Ah. That shifted things about, didn't it? If they gave the phone to Mycroft, the Woman loses the protection she gained from that blackmail. Protection that blocked groups like these Americans or anyone else from attacking her, because of information she probably also had on them. 'Things that they liked' and such. They'd be killing the Woman by giving that phone away. And the Woman wasn't even so bad, once you really got her talking.
Yeah? Yeah. Murder was bad, and helping Mycroft was worse. Sherlock would be on her side for this.
"Sherlock! Danielle!" John called out.
Sherlock tucked it away in his coat. "It was." He started walking off.
Maybe he hadn't come to that conclusion yet. It'll get him though, later, soon.
Danielle shrugged helplessly at the Woman. "Sorry, Miss- sorry do you prefer Ms 'the Woman' or-"
"Danielle!" Sherlock prompted.
"Right yeah, coming!" Danielle rushed off to join him. She missed the Woman's thoughtful look on her back.
==MPH==
You know, Danielle really should've thought about this woman a lot sooner than she did. Her thoughts went a bit haywire after seeing the Woman naked on the couch. The poor woman who let them in had been quiet for all the festivities. Now, seeing her prone form on the Woman's floor, it made sense.
John guided them into the room. Danielle gasped at the sight.
"Is she-"
"Just unconscious." John assured her. Danielle sighed in relief. "They must've come in this way."
"Clearly." Sherlock walked off to a nearby bathroom, scanning it.
The Woman walked into the room. John went to her next. "It's all right. She's just out cold."
"Well, God knows she's used to that." The Woman remarked. And didn't that just send Danielle's mind scrambling and possibly even straight into a blue screen effect. "There's a back door. Better check it, Doctor Watson."
"Sure."
Danielle came back to reality to see John gone. She looked at the Woman, curious.
The Woman pointed to a nearby sitting couch. "Wait there."
Danielle obeyed. Well what's there for her to do? They needed to wait for the police so they could explain the bodies, and if anyone else came in then John or Sherlock were better trained to fight them. Danielle only one because she had the advantage of surprise. The sitting couch looked nice too.
The Woman walked over to her dressing table, reaching for a door. Danielle tried to get a look at it. "Stop it."
Danielle frowned. "What-"
"No looking." The Woman instructed.
Danielle huffed. She did look away, though. At the door. To check for John, or other dangers. Totally.
Sherlock walked back into the bedroom. "You're very calm." He mused. The Woman tilted her head. "Well, your booby trap did just kill a man."
"Seeing as you opened the safe, doesn't that mean you killed him?" Danielle countered.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her. Danielle shrugged. Sherlock turned back to the Woman, but with a different kind of focus to it.
"Ms Nolan has a point." The Woman said. And if that didn't make her insides into jam. "He would have killed me. It was self defense in advance." She went towards Sherlock, touching his arm.
Then Sherlock fell to the floor. "What?" He slurred.
Danielle shot up off the couch. "Sherlo-"
"Sit." The Woman ordered.
"No!" Danielle snapped. She rushed over, kneeling at Sherlock's side.
"What is that? What...?" The man twisted around on the floor, trying to get himself back up.
Danielle held his shoulder. She needed to keep him still so he didn't get hurt. "What'd you do to him?" The Woman said nothing, just tossed aside the syringe in her hand. "The bloody hell! Seriously?"
The Woman raised an eyebrow. Five minutes ago, it would've turned Danielle into a puddle. Now it just infuriated her. "Reach in his pocket. Give it to me."
"After what you just did?!" Danielle hissed. "You could've hurt him!"
"I've used it before. Give me my phone." The Woman repeated. "Now."
Sherlock rolled away from Danielle. He tried to put himself between her and the Woman. "No." He slurred again.
The Woman stayed focused on Danielle. "Do it."
"No." Danielle insisted.
"Oh, for goodness' sake." The Woman went to her dressing table again. This time, she came back with a riding crop.
Danielle gawked. No way in hell was she thinking about it. "I said-"
The Woman lashed it out. It struck Danielle on the side of the face. Danielle turned with it, tumbling to the floor beside Sherlock.
"And I-" The Woman lashed out again. This time hitting Sherlock. "-said-" Another whack for Danielle. "-drop-" Sherlock "-it!" Danielle.
Danielle raised her arm, blocking the blows to her face. Her arms stung with the blows. Bruises later, hard to say. The Woman was very good at punishments, as advertised.
The phone clattered to the ground.
"Ah. Thank you, dear." The Woman reached down for it. Danielle tried to get up. "Nonono, stay down there. I'm not finished yet." She pushed the crop against Danielle's cheek until Danielle laid prone on the floor. "Good girl."
Danielle grunted. Frustrated and bothered by the assault, worried still for Sherlock, she wondered where the hell was John. How long did it take to check a back door?
"Now tell that sweet little posh thing the pictures are safe with me. They're not for blackmail, just for insurance. Besides, I might want to see her again." The Woman instructed. Sherlock grunted. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. It's been a pleasure. Don't spoil it."
The riding crop touched her face again. Danielle winced, closing her eyes. It left without striking her.
"This is how I want you to remember me. The woman who beat you." The Woman said. To either of them, or both? "Goodnight, Mr Sherlock Holmes, Ms Danielle Nolan."
The Woman's feet padded away. No heels to clack on the hardwood floor, but Danielle could imagine the sound so clearly in her mind.
"Jesus. What are you doing?"
"John!" Danielle gasped. She pushed herself to her knees. "She's done something to Sherlock-"
John rushed to Sherlock's side. The consulting detective was flat on his back. The blue eyes that usually stayed sharp instead gazed unseeingly at the ceiling.
"He'll sleep for a few hours. Make sure he doesn't choke on his own vomit. It makes for a very unattractive corpse." The Woman instructed. She pushed open her window, leaning against the frame.
Danielle stood up, ready to march at her. "What'd you give him? Tell me!"
"Sherlock!" John called out, trying to get Sherlock to focus on him.
The Woman stared at Danielle, smiling brightly. "He'll be fine. I've used it on loads of my friends."
"He's not your friend!" Danielle argued. "Or was this another case of self defense in advance?"
The Woman grinned. She leaned forward, eyebrow arching again. "I barely touched him. Or you."
"Sherlock, can you hear me?" John tried again.
"You know, I was wrong about him. He did know where to look." The Woman praised. She raised her leg, perching it on her bathtub.
Danielle kept her gaze on the Woman's face, respectfully. "Look? Look where?"
"The key code to my safe." The Woman added.
"The 3's and 2's?" Danielle asked.
The Woman hummed. "Oh, you saw too? My, you just get better and better, Ms Nolan."
Danielle was about to push her out that window.
"What was it?" John asked.
"Shall I tell him?" The Woman asked Danielle.
Danielle grit her teeth.
"My measurements." The Woman kicked herself out the window.
Danielle gawked. She rushed over. When she got there, the only things she saw outside were police cars. No sign of the Woman anywhere.
==MPH==
Danielle and John somehow managed to get Sherlock home.
The police that showed included Lestrade, and unfortunately Donovan. At seeing Sherlock passed out, Lestrade did show a boatload of concern. Well, a boatload compared to what Donovan and the rest of the coppers did. Many made jokes about him- including that he must've relapsed as 'all druggies did, eventually'. Danielle wanted to grab the riding crop to shut them all up. John, who still had the guns from the Americans, looked like he was quickly forgetting why murder was illegal.
A cab was called for the three of them. Lestrade filmed them guiding a wobbly Sherlock inside it. Like a baby gazelle learning to walk. It'd be cute if a bunch of police weren't making jokes about drug use.
John offered to guide him upstairs but Danielle wouldn't hear of it. She did the heavy lifting here, keeping Sherlock from missing steps while John explained Sherlock's state to Mrs Hudson. Danielle put Sherlock to bed, pulling the covers over him. A few hours rest, the Woman said, and to be on his side so he doesn't choke on vomit. A small possibility, but Danielle still turned Sherlock to his side.
Her measurements. The lock to her safe was her measurements. Something few people would have, and even fewer people would use on the safe. A safe that would kill you when you opened it. So, the person who unlocked it would've had to: be trusted enough to know the measurements, know the password was the measurements, and then use them. Then they'd be murdered. Unless, of course, the Woman told you to duck. Which she didn't.
Except Sherlock figured out the safe had a gun inside, which he must've. Maybe the Woman warned him, somehow.
Danielle wasn't certain how to feel about it. Today was a whirlwind of emotions and feelings that would all come back to hit her eventually.
She paused.
John walked into the room. "He alright?"
Danielle said nothing.
John put his hand on her shoulder. Danielle tensed, turning round to see him there. "Sorry-"
"No, no it's-" Danielle turned to Sherlock, then back at John. "Yeah he's alright. No bad signs yet."
John nodded. "Good, that's good."
"I figured it out." Danielle blurted. John tilted his head. "The hiker and the car, from earlier? Before all this?"
"You...figured it out?" John asked. Danielle nodded. "Right."
"Right! Cause, cause the car backfired, yeah? So the hiker turned to see it, and then he got hit."
"Yeah, but we knew that." John said.
"He got hit by a boomerang." Danielle revealed. John blinked. "Think about it! Sherlock said he might've been looking at birds, but there are better places for bird watching. He was looking for the boomerang to catch it when he came back! The backfire distracted him so he didn't know it was coming til it already happened."
John blinked again. Then again. Then smiled. "Guess we should email the inspector. Danielle Nolan solved it."
Danielle blushed. "No, it- Sherlock did first."
"Yeah, but he's not the one telling the inspector, is he?" John replied. He walked off towards the living room.
Still, Danielle smiled. She followed him, eager to share her findings. No wonder Sherlock liked solving these things.
As the two left, both missed the window being quietly pushed open. A naked woman walked in, draping his belstaff coat on the back of his bedroom door. She went over to Sherlock, kneeling over him. The man jostled.
"No no, don't get up." The Woman whispered. She smiled. "I figured it out."
==MPH==
The email was sent without fuss. Even better, a reply of disbelief arrived. Danielle told them to look upstream- the direction Sherlock made them point the laptop- for the boomerang. An hour later, a reply of thanks came.
She got it right.
She got it right!
Danielle high fived John about it. John laughed with her, her joy infectious.
"John!" Came a slurred shout from down the hall. "Danielle!"
John and Danielle shot off. As they came over, a loud thud came from the room. John pushed the door open. Sherlock, instead of being in bed, appeared sprawled out on the floor. Danielle giggled to herself about the pitiful image that was.
John, by the sound of his voice, seemed to be fighting back chuckles himself. "You okay?"
Sherlock whirled around to them. "How did I get here?"
Danielle sighed. "Oh, bless. I thought you might remember something."
"I didn't. He wasn't making a lot of sense." John reminded her. He leaned into the room. "Oh, I should warn you, I think Lestrade filmed you on his phone."
Sherlock held his bed frame. He pushed himself to his feet, legs shaking but somehow supporting his weight. "Where is she?"
"Where's who?" John asked.
"The Woman. That Woman." Sherlock clarified.
"No one's seen her." Danielle answered. "We've not gotten word from Mycroft or anything about her. She's gone."
Sherlock stumbled over to his wall. His head nearly went through the open window.
Danielle barely registered that. She was too focused on keeping Sherlock from falling out. "Okay! Nope, away from windows." She guided him away from him. "John, get that."
John did close that window. "She wasn't here, Sherlock."
"We'd have noticed." Danielle added. Sherlock stumbled in his steps. Danielle pushed him, barely keeping him up. "Nope, nope."
"She's hiding under-"
"-she's not under the bed!" Danielle shoved Sherlock. He fell without grace on his bed. Again. "Stay there, alright? Just get some sleep."
"You'll be fine in the morning." John patted Sherlock on the leg. "Doctor's orders."
Danielle pulled the sheets over him again. Sherlock, face smushed in his pillow, mumbled at them. "Of course I'll be fine. I am fine. I'm absolutely fine."
"Yes, you're great. Now Danielle and I'll be next door if you need us." John said.
John wanted to catch up on some program. Danielle agreed to join him, as she missed some of her own and would love catching up with him.
"Why would I need you?" Sherlock, dazed from being drugged and dragged home by his two best friends in the whole entire world, replied.
"No reason at all." John closed the bedroom door. He and Danielle exchanged a giddy grin.
They went off to the living room. Both of them giggling louder as they turned on the telly. Both of them missed the very distinct ringtone from Sherlock's suddenly returned coat.
==MPH==
Danielle came over for breakfast. John texted her that Mycroft was coming over, so they should give him the sitrep of the situation. Now, if Danielle's younger brother got caught up in a thing that left him drugged and dazed for nearly twelve hours, Danielle would've shown up instantly. If, while drugged and dazed, people made jokes about her brother and drugs, a lot of people would've gone missing.
Mycroft came for the phone and only the phone.
Danielle treated him with the respect he deserved.
She told Mrs Hudson all about his upcoming visit.
Her fellow landlady didn't disappoint. She set about making a classic English breakfast, not allowing anyone to lift a finger. Danielle got food as well, as Mrs Hudson saw the now blooming bruises on her arms and went off.
And so Danielle sat with Sherlock and John. Sherlock read the paper, waiting for Mrs Hudson to finish his specially requested meal. John calmly ate breakfast. For a full five minutes, none of the trio acknowledged Mycroft's presence. Danielle kept talking up the food they were given. John engaged in small talk with Danielle about the programs of last night.
Eventually, though, Sherlock lowered the newspaper. "The photographs are perfectly safe."
"In the hands of a fugitive sex worker." Mycroft countered.
"She's not interested in blackmail. She wants...protection for some reason." Sherlock explained. "I take it you've stood down the police investigation into the shooting at her house?"
"How can we do anything while she has the photographs? Our hands are tied." Mycroft reminded him, his frustration obvious.
Failing the mission? Bad.
Annoying Mycroft? Everyone wins.
"She'd applaud your choice of words." Sherlock winked at his brother.
Danielle nearly choked on her tea.
"You see how this works. That camera phone is her 'Get out of jail free' card. You have to leave her alone. Treat her like royalty, Mycroft." Sherlock instructed.
"Though not the way she treats royalty." John remarked.
"If you offered, she'd definitely tie up your hands." Danielle couldn't help but add.
Mycroft smiled flatly at all three of them. They giggled to themselves.
Then they heard a moan. A very big, loud, moan.
Danielle thought the sound came from behind her but...but...no. The only person behind her was Mycroft and just- no. Was this revenge? This felt like revenge.
"What was that?" John was the first to find his voice.
"Text." Sherlock answered, calmly and normally. As though all text alerts came as moans.
"But what was that noise?" John asked.
"It sounded like-" Danielle stopped herself from making the noise.
Sherlock stood up from the table. He walked around them towards Mycroft. Danielle nearly died in horror. Then, thankfully, stepped around his brother. He reached for a device on the mantle.
"Did you know there were other people after her too, Mycroft, before you sent Danielle, John, and I in there? CIA-trained killers, at an excellent guess." He took back his seat, tucking the phone into his pocket.
That's his phone.
The phone in his pocket.
The Woman took his coat and phone.
Maybe she should have listened when Sherlock said the Woman was under his bed...
"Yeah, thanks for that, Mycroft." John said.
Danielle turned to him, remembering that making fun of Mycroft was always more important. "We watched one get shot. That's very traumatizing stuff."
Mrs Hudson walked out from the kitchen. She held up a plate of food, giving it to Sherlock. Sherlock smiled gratefully at her.
Mrs Hudson began to rant at Mycroft. Nothing in this world was more perfect and glorious than watching Mrs Hudson scold Mycroft like he was an unruly child. "It's a disgrace, sending your little brother into danger like that. Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes."
"Oh, shut up, Mrs Hudson."
The three moved as one.
Sherlock dropped his paper. "MYCROFT!"
"OI!" John whirled around in h
Danielle slammed her hands on the table. She reached for the butter knife, glaring ferociously at Mycroft. "APOLOGIZE!"
Mycroft, confronted by three people who no longer felt like poking fun at him, winced. He did turn to the older landlady, and give her a tight smile. "Apologies."
"Thank you." Mrs Hudson walked off toward the kitchen.
"Though do, in fact, shut up." Sherlock remarked. Mrs Hudson just waved her hand at him.
Danielle went back to her breakfast. Mrs Hudson was the best cook on the whole street- no, all of London.
The phone moaned again.
Danielle dropped the fork in her hand. It clattered on her plate.
"Ooh. It's a bit rude, that noise, isn't it?" Mrs Hudson commented.
"There's nothing you can do and nothing she will do as far as I can see." Sherlock said to Mycroft.
"I can put maximum surveillance on her." Mycroft stated.
"Why bother? You can follow her on Twitter. I believe her user name is 'TheWhipHand.'" Sherlock reminded him.
Danielle hadn't spent a lot of the night before going through that twitter page. No. Definitely not. Danielle Nolan did no such thing...a separate twitter account did though. One that might've been made the night before, two minutes before doom scrolling through TheWhipHand's page.
"Yes. Most amusing." Mycroft reached for his phone. "'Scuse me." He stepped out into their hallway.
Sherlock watched him go.
Danielle leaned forward. "Sherlock, how did you get your phone back?"
Sherlock hummed. He stayed focused on reading the paper. "Sorry?"
"Your phone. You lost it yesterday."
"And I got it back."
"How?"
"And why does it make that noise?" John added.
"What noise?" Sherlock asked.
"The-" Danielle gestured at the phone. "The- that noise."
"It's a text alert. It means I've got a text." Sherlock answered.
"Hmm. Your texts don't usually make that noise." John pointed out.
"Well, somebody got hold of the phone and apparently, as a joke, personalized their text alert noise." Sherlock explained calmly.
"Hmm. So every time they text you-" John got interrupted by another loud moan.
"It would seem so." Sherlock replied. He checked the phone.
"Could you turn that phone down a bit? At my time of life, it's-" Mrs Hudson asked.
Sherlock tossed the phone back on the table, going back to his paper.
"Okay but-" Danielle shifted in her seat. "But your phone was taken. And your coat. So how'd you get it back?"
Sherlock raised the paper more, covering his face from both of their views. "I'll leave you to your deductions."
Danielle looked at John, jaw dropping. John looked at her, grinning.
"We're not stupid, you know." John added.
The paper was now so close to Sherlock that there is no way he could actually be able to read it. "Where do you get that idea?"
Danielle shook her head at his antics. And at the Woman's antics.
Mycroft walked back in. He spoke about James Bond or something, before hanging up to glare at Sherlock.
"What else does she have?" Sherlock asked.
Mycroft feigned ignorance. Poorly. The Holmes brothers couldn't fake 'ignorance'.
"Irene Adler. The Americans wouldn't be interested in her for a couple of compromising photographs. There's more." Sherlock stood up. He walked in front of Mycroft, going for intimidation on Mycroft. "Much more."
Mycroft changed nothing.
"Something big's coming, isn't it?" Sherlock challenged.
"Irene Adler is no longer any concern of yours. From now on you will stay out of this." Mycroft ordered.
"Oh, will I?"
"Yes, Sherlock, you will." Mycroft repeated.
Sherlock only shrugged, walking over to the fireplace.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a long and arduous apology to make to a very old friend." Mycroft left the flat.
"Do give her my love." Sherlock pulled out his violin. He played the tune for 'God Save The Queen'.
John hid his smile. Danielle openly giggled at him, and at Mycroft's retreating form. Then she glanced at the phone, thinking about the moan and the messages and just...a bad feeling settling in her gut.
==MPH==
AN: Listen. I'm not saying Irene Adler saw something in Danielle and took advantage of it. I'm saying Danielle broadcasted it on all channels, and Irene just called her back. And don't deny that any of my fellow bisexuals wouldn't do the same. I've seen your FYPs.
(everyone on this show was some kind of gay and I will not exclude my OC from that list)
Also I love how just instantly they all attack Mycroft for yelling as Mrs H. Every single time I look at it, I laugh. It's comedy gold. So many scenes here in this chapter were comedy gold. Sherlock falling and John's casual 'you okay?' Danielle going heart eyes every time Irene breathed, the gunshots to call the police, the idea of a still naked Irene rushing about on rooftops with only Sherlock's coat, comedy. All of it, comedy.
Thanks to helloMyNameIsAli for following
