Ch. 2
John walked down the stairs and saw a ready and waiting Sherlock by the front door.
"Ready?" John asked his friend.
"I'm ready as Im going to be. Are you sure it won't be dreadful?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.
"We are on a case. What's dreadful about that?" John asked him, smiling a little.
"I suppose you're right," Sherlock said.
"Hang on...how do those words taste coming out?" John joked.
"Like vinegar...shall we?" Sherlock asked, opening the door.
"Let's go," John agreed. The two men walked out and saw a sleek, shiny black car, waiting for them. Mycroft's of course...the driver opened the door to let them inside and saw Mycroft sitting across from them on his phone.
"How are we doing today?" Mycroft asked cheerily. A little too cheery for my liking, thought Sherlock as he raised an eyebrow at his brother.
"What is it now, Mycroft?" he asked him.
"Oh, nothing...just in a good mood these days," Mycroft answered, smiling still. Sherlock looked at John who shook his head. Mycroft went back to his phone, which vibrated in his hand. Another smile. Sherlock looked his brother over from head to foot, looking for any clues that might lead him to why he was acting so strangely. Smile, light flush to the cheeks, smile only gets larger when he looks at the phone, obviously reading a text...but from whom? A woman? A man? Sherlock went over all this and more in his head, not quite in his mind palace, but contemplating enough to where he didn't hear John when he was trying to get his attention until after the fact.
"Sherlock? Are you ok?" John asked.
"Of course," Sherlock answered. He was still looking at his brother who didn't seem to notice. Not like Mycroft at all. I've never seen him like this...very strange, Sherlock thought.
"Don't do that," John whispered.
"Do what?" Sherlock whispered back.
"Deduce your brother when he's sitting two inches away from you," John said, voice low still.
"I think he is more than two inches away from me, John, but yes, I see your point," Sherlock said. He sat back in his seat and put his hands together, fingertips touching. John raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing to him.
"So, Mycroft...why are you choosing to finance this little trip of ours?" John asked.
"I had some persuasion, if you must know. Also, I don't want that madman coming back here. He made a very big upset with the British government," Mycroft explained. "I know if anyone can get him, it's you two,"
"That is true, but that still doesn't explain why the American authorities cannot handle it. They can't all be completely daft, can they?" John asked. Sherlock snorted, and shook his head. Mycroft just sighed.
"I didn't say they were, but they don't know, or they won't believe how dangerous he is. This...man...if that's how we are still classifying him...is the most dangerous criminal we have come across since...well, you know," Mycroft said. John tensed up a little, but relaxed when he saw Sherlock out of the corner of his eye. He knew Sherlock wasn't going anywhere. He knew...but still couldn't shake this feeling someone or something was going to take him away again.
"At least he stayed in England," Sherlock said. "One question keeps coming into my mind, though...why run? Why is he running? What is he running from?"
