How They Met Alice (BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter 34

(Alice’s POV: )

 Sometime later, Sherlock had dressed and was sitting on the sofa again beside John with me on his other side. Mycroft and Harry sat on the opposite sofa. Mycroft was pouring tea from a teapot. Following the old-fashioned superstition that only one person in the household should pour the tea, and that person was ‘being mother’, he looked at the equerry and smiled.

 “I’ll be mother.” He said his mood improving.

 “And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell.” Sherlock said pointedly. I looked down at my lap to hide my smirk. Mycroft glowered at him, and then put the teapot down. Harry looked at Sherlock.

 “My employer has a problem.” He began.

 “A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature, and in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has arisen.” Mycroft explained.

 “Why? You have a police force of sorts, even a marginally Secret Service. Why come to me?” Sherlock asked pretentiously.

 “People do come to you for help, don’t they, Mr. Holmes?” Harry questioned.

 “Not, to date, anyone with a Navy.”Sherlock answered, glancing at me.

 “This is a matter of the highest security, and therefore of trust.” Mycroft claimed.

 “You don’t trust your own Secret Service?” John asked. I fought back a sigh.

 “Naturally not. They all spy on people for money.” Mycroft said, as if it was obvious, which it was. John bit back a smile.

 “I do think we have a timetable.” Harry commented.

 “Yes, of course. Um...” Mycroft replied. He opened his briefcase, taking out a glossy photograph and handing it to Sherlock. John and I leaned in to look at it. “What do you know about this woman?” Mycroft asked.

 “Nothing whatsoever.” Sherlock said, looking over the picture, his eyes half-open.

 “Then you should be paying more attention.” Mycroft informed.  “She’s been at the centre of two political scandals in the last year, and recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist by having an affair with both participants separately.” Mycroft continued.

 “You know I don’t concern myself with trivia. Who is she?” Sherlock said, still sounding bored.

 “Irene Adler, professionally known as The Woman.” Mycroft revealed. As soon as I heard the name I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. John glanced at me worriedly and Sherlock made it seem as though he was ignoring my reaction.

 “Professionally?” John asked, looking back to Mycroft.

 “There are many names for what she does. She prefers ‘dominatrix’.” Mycroft answered.

 “Dominatrix.” John repeated thoughtfully.

 “Don’t be alarmed. It’s to do with sex.” Mycroft said. I unconsciously blushed.

 “Sex doesn’t alarm me.” Sherlock declared.

 “How would you know?” Mycroft said, smiling snidely at his brother. Sherlock raised his head and stared at his brother. “She provides – shall we say – recreational scolding for those who enjoy that sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it.” He continued, taking more photographs from his briefcase and handing them to Sherlock. “These are all from her website.” Sherlock took the photographs and leafed through them. They were professional-looking publicity shots for her ‘services’ and showed Irene at her glamorous and sexy best. I scowled in disgust and leaned away from Sherlock, looking anywhere but at the humans in the room.