||•s𝓮𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓽•||

Secret-Chapter five

"Her brother forcefully impregnated her lover, Molly Hooper after he discovered they were in a relationship, and she tragically passed during childbirth. Everything Alder told us was true, Mycroft. As for the Balinkey family, I suggest you find the wife and arrest her if she hasn't gotten too far across the map.

My brother eyed me wearily. He looked tired but I wasn't sure how one could get tired in the first place if all they did was lounge around on a chair all day.
"What do you mean by that brother dear?"

I peeked at John out of the corner of my eye, curious as to what his input was on the situation at hand, but he remained silent and fully willing to let the upcoming argument unfold itself.
"Mycroft you always have loved to brag about being the "smart one," so perhaps you can live up to the expectations and act it. The Balinkey family is brimming with assassins, spies, and black market merchants, all hungry for power and riches. They set it up so it appeared that Mr. Balinkey died in an accident one snowy night, when really he was packing his bags, ready for his wife's go signal. Mrs. Balinkey sat collecting insurance funds at the bank, donning a tear filled pretty façade and when she secured the money they took all the goods they could manage and began their journey with their children to America. Mr Balinkey had been physically abusing and using his wife for some time and she finally had enough.
He met his most unfortunate end. Pushed out of a moving carriage and trampled underneath the horses feet."

Mycroft appeared to be unsettled by the prospect of being stampeded to death and I could tell he was planning on asking more questions, so I headed for the door. John stood to follow me, his chair making a scraping noise against the wood slats of the floor as it was pushed outwards. "She got fearful and also slit her children's throats on the journey. I assure you, you don't want a psychopath on the loose."

Mycroft frowned, and shifted his enormous weight to grab a large hunk of meat off of a nearby silver platter with his thick fingers. I cringed and turned to John. ''Please. Please let me make fun of him." My companion firmly shook his head and I sighed and adjusted my leather gloves. Watson had made the rule that I wasn't allowed to poke at my dear brother's weight any longer, as he said it was impertinent and not a good practice. I reminded him that that was the point of the insults and they didn't affect him but he didn't seem to be very lenient. I quickly turned to leave the room, and before the door shut behind us, I poked my head in with a satisfied smirk and informed Mycroft, much to John's dismay,

"I really should take you to the London circus. I heard they were looking for elephants and clowns. I'm sure both categories would suit you well."

**************

John, stood bent over in the kitchen, peering into the oven. An expression of utter disgust crossed his face and I let our a disheartened sigh. A puff of black smoke erupted from the stove top and he began to hack and cough, waving his hands around his face. "What in the world were you trying to do? Light the flat on fire?" I crossed the room, slumping down into my chair in defeat, my face burning with embarrassment. "Cooking dinner," I mumbled into my hands. John chuckled. I felt my stomach twist in an uncomfortable way. Why was he laughing at me? The knot turned to anger and I repeated my thought out loud, glaring at him. He walked out of the kitchen, into the parlor, stroking his mustache, and sat down in his seat, still amused by my failure.

"If you think it's so funny," I spat. "Why don't you teach me?"

He looked up in surprise, and finally stopped stroking that godforsaken caterpillar on his upper lip. I smirked with satisfaction. He didn't expect me to ask for help or assistance. I rarely needed it and rarely told him if I did, so it was always entertaining to watch his expression when I expressed I was unable to complete a certain task. He thought for a moment, stood, and held out his hand. "If I teach you to cook, you have to do something for me as well."

I raised my eyebrow. "Like what?"

"I'm still working on figuring that out."

I stood up as well and shook his hand firmly, although I had no clue what I really was shaking it for. I had nothing to lose anyways. He pulled away quickly in a strange fashion and turned away from me to pick up a pen on the desk, presumably to write down what we would need for whatever it was we were to make, but the pen slipped from his fingers and fell down the side of the desk. Seeing I was the taller one by a considerable amount, I put one arm on the desk, supporting my weight, and leaned over him to pick it up. In the process we brushed against each other and I caught an out of place scent. I froze. "Eau de Cologne.. wasn't that a gift from your mother last Christmas?"

Watson froze as well, trapping us both in a rather compromising scenario. Good thing Mrs Hudson was away in Doncaster for the week, for she was one for talk and gossip. "Er.. Yeah."As he turned his head to the side to back out of our odd position, I got a glance at his eyes. Blue, with brown and grey spots. Fascinating. Eyes were very important in crime. Studying them, experimenting on them. Someone's eyes could tell you their life story or determine the guilt or innocence of an individual. Your eyes betray you. They give away your secrets. They..

"I'm going to bed. We can start tomorrow." Watsons weary voice startled me out of my thoughts, and I noticed he had slipped out from underneath me with the pen and was standing some distance behind me, hair mussed up a bit, and strangely enough, a noticeably pink flush on his cheeks. He was fidgeting awkwardly with the hem of his jacket and muttered a goodnight before walking out of the room towards his bedroom, pen gripped tightly in his hand and all. What did I do?

"Goodnight." I removed my weight from the desk and stood up straight. I frowned and sat in my chair. Something was bugging me. I didn't understand why he behaved that way. I was simply helping him pick up the pen. I didn't see he was already partially bent over.. I sat up straighter in my chair and crossed one knee over the other. When I looked at his eyes he didn't... My mind cluttered up with confusing questions and thoughts and I somehow didn't understand a single one-

Oh

Why were his pupils dilated?