The umbrella (Johnlock)

Chapter ten.

I'm aware of the whole "caring isn't an advantage" thing Mycroft had going on, but just roll with it ok?

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"What do you mean, "former wife"?" I asked Sherlock. "Mycroft was married?"

"Yes he was. But I never knew about it before just now." Sherlock looked at the mansion, and started walking. I followed him. "How did you find out?" He gave me a quick look over his shoulder. "The note Mycroft left me said to look inside the handle of the umbrella. I screwed it off and inside was a wedding ring, and a small piece of paper with an address, this address." We were almost at the door now. "But how did you know it was a wedding ring? It could have just been a regular ring?" His eyebrows went down. I knew he was about to call me an idiot again, but because of the row we just had, he didn't. "In the engraving of the ring it said " forever you and I". And you don't give a ring to a girlfriend with that engraving. Well, unless your proposing." We were now at the door. I gave him a look that he knew meant "You smart fucker" even though it was so obvious that I almost wouldn't dare to call it a deduction. Sherlock smirked at me before he knocked on the door and after a little while a woman opened the door. She had blond medium-long hair,  she was about 6 feet tall and was wearing a white shirt and a blue blazer. She smiled when she saw Sherlock and said:

"Ah, hello Sherlock. It's nice to finally meet you." She reached out for a handshake. Sherlock looked at her hand in a few seconds with an odd look on his face before taking it and shaking it slowly. "Hello, Mrs. Holmes I presume...?" Sherlock asked as he pulled his hand back. She looked down, and ignored his question. "Could I offer you boys some Danish pastries? And before Sherlock could answer I quickly said "Yes that would be very nice." Sherlock looked at me and crinkled his nose. Maybe Sherlock wasn't going to eat anything, but I most certainly was. I hadn't had Danish pastries since I was a kid, which was a shame, because I quite enjoy them. I smiled at Sherlock. She moved aside and made a gesture with her hand that meant "come in". I walked inside, and a maid in surprisingly formal designer clothes came up to me. "Want me to take your coat sir?" She asked. "Oh, yes please." I took it off, and handed it over to her. She went over to Sherlock and asked the same question, but he declined with a mad expression on his face. I looked at him and mouthed the words "what?". The hall we had just stepped in was enormous. There was a lot of white. A white staircase, white walls, white floors but the only things that wasn't white was the roses standing in a beautiful (white) vase. They were as red as blood, and I was captured by their beauty. A petal fell to the floor and broke the pattern of everything staying white besides on that table. For some reason, at the moment it touched the floor it was like a mirror getting shattered into a thousand pieces. Like the first drop of rain falling to the dusty ground. Like an apple falling into water, surrounded by bubbles. All of these images came to my mind in under a second and I got startled when Mrs. Holmes turned to me and reached out for another handshake. I woke up from my dreamworld. "And you're John Watson" I shook her hand firmly and short. "Yes.. How did you-" I stopped myself. Of course she knew. "Never mind."

"Shall we?" She asked and started walking inside the sitting room. Sherlock looked at me again, and apparently he could see how startled I had been when she cut of my "vision" if so to speak. Not that he knew about what I had been seeing. 

Sherlock and I sat down on the couch, which was of course white too. Mrs. Holmes sat down in an armchair. In that palace Sherlock and I looked like two lice, wearing all black. On the glass table in front of us a small plate was placed in the exact center of the table. And on it there was, of course, Danish pastries. "Yum" I thought, but waited with taking a piece. The maid came inside the room with a silver tray, and on it was a teapot, and some cups. "If I may ask," I said reaching out for the cup with newly poured tea in it. "What's your first name?" I continued and took a sip from the tea. 

She was drinking some tea from her own cup, and put it down afterwards. "Marie." She said, but Sherlock suddenly bursted out; "Clearly not." and Mrs. Holmes looked at him in despair "Sorry?" she exclaimed. " Your clothing. The brand is a certain brand, your brand, which you are clearly very proud of. That's also the reason why you could afford this mansion, with the help of Mycroft of course. Your maids clothing are the same brand, you can see the label on the side of their shirts." Sherlock paused only to tilt his head so that he could look at the label. "Amelia it looks like it says. So, Amelia. Why have my brother led me to you?" he ended his deduction.

Amelia didn't say anything, she looked startled, and then began to talk.

"Mycroft told me this might happen. Well... He led you here because I need to show you this."

She handed Sherlock a picture of a weird shape. Looked like a tattoo in a mans neck. "This-" she said, when she was interrupted by a maid coming in, with my coat in her hands. "Your phone sir." she said and handed it to me. Two missed calls, and a text. I unlocked it and opened the message. It was from Lestrade: "We've found something suspicious about the death of Mycroft Holmes. Please come as soon as you can. The morgue." I turned the phone to Sherlock, and he read it in less than a second. He nodded and rose from the couch. "We have to go, so we'll have to talk later." I excused. She nodded understandingly and handed me her card. "Feel free to call me any time." she said as she showed us to the front door, and let us out. We jogged out to the main road, and Sherlock hailed a cab. 

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It's good to be back! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you did please leave a vote or a comment! Also, thank you for the many requests, I did my best to work some of them in!