Fallen Angel

How Did They Manage That?

 

Chapter 30

xXx

 

I walked out of my room and into the kitchen slowly, making sure I didn't disturb Mycroft. He'd still been asleep when I'd woken, and I'd soon decided not to wake him up - he obviously needed the rest, especially considering the buffoons he worked with.

 

I opened the fridge to find half of the slice of cake I'd left Mycroft sitting on the top shelf. I frowned - despite all the work I had spent attempting to get him to not care as much about his weight, apparently what he had been told when he was younger had left its mark on his opinion of himself. I sighed, shaking my head and internally cursingno anyone and everyone who had made Mycroft into this.

 

Taking out the bowl of sugar that inhabited the fridge, the milk and the half piece of cake Mycroft had left behind, I closed the fridge with my foot and placed the items on the counter behind me. Standing still and leaning against the counter, I reached over to the pantry in the corner, pulling open the door and taking out two teabags. I thought for a moment before taking out the entire box, placing it on the counter beside the kettle.

 

I shut the cupboard and busied myself with making tea. I filled the kettle with water, switching it on and leaving it to boil as I walked into the lounge area. I switched on the TV to a low volume, switching it to the music channel, which was playing music videos of popular songs on the radio. I listened vacantly as I looked out the slightly-opened windows. The kettle finished boiling just as Mycroft walked out from the hallway, dressed in casual clothes with his hair combed perfectly.

 

He looked at me, amused, before his gaze lit upon the tea ready to be made and his face grew bright before dulling slightly at the sight of the cake. He gave me a bemused smile before moving over to pour the water and add the sugar.

 

Five minutes later, we sat with our tea, on our chairs, watching a documentary on a reef along the coast of Australia. I remained silent as we finished our tea, I watching Mycroft to make sure he ate what he had been given. He pulled a face as he noticed my stare, exaggerating the motion of placing the small piece of cake in his mouth and chewing it in an over-the-top manner.

 

I pulled a face back at him as he chewed deliberately, placing his empty mug and crumb-covered plate on the table between the chairs, as I had done moments before.

 

"So, I'm sure that you are wondering about Sherlock's state of health and both him and his... accomplice's general well-being," Mycroft said in a business-like manner. I rolled my eyes and he answered in the same manner.

 

"Yes, please," I said after a moment, realising that I hadn't heard anything about the baker boys - that sounded like the name of a all-men staffed bakery or boy band - since my temporary relocation to Mycroft's flat. "Have they finished the case? Were they injured?"

 

"Yes, they finished the case as of yesterday evening. John and his date for the evening both suffered minor head injuries from their brief kidnapping stint but escaped unharmed other than that. Sherlock has also suffered no damage to his physique or psychological state."

 

I wasn't sure if it was merely me reflecting my feelings regarding the situation onto the older Holmes brother but Mycroft also seemed rather relieved that our friends had not been overly harmed.

 

"That's- good. Great, even," I said, relaxing back in my chair. Mycroft nodded his agreement.

 

"So, what exactly did the case entail?" I asked after a moment.

 

Mycroft readjusted his positioning. "The very basics of the case were that something was stolen. Sherlock was assigned with the task of retrieving this artifact. It grew complicated rapidly, from my sources, and there were definite murder plans. The only slightly humorous part of the whole situation could be the fact that John was mistaken for Sherlock."

 

I stifled a laugh - John and Sherlock looked nothing alike. Raising an eyebrow, I gave him an incredulous look. "How did they manage that?"

 

"A series of unfortunate events," Mycroft said with a smile, "involving a mistaken check, misplaced tickets and an impression."

 

My other eyebrow came up to join the first. "How did he manage that?"