Adler-Holmes

Trade Mistakes

I couldn't deal with that crap anymore. Not from her. Too long I'd sat and waited for her to finally help- to show me some love and attention. And yet again- too little too late. Her previous client was the last straw. He'd got too close to her, nearly moved in. He was so close to finally being in with her.

Leaving me where I am now.

Wandering the streets in search for a home. There was always the option of my father but... I'd rather avoid him. He was too consumed by his work- like my mother in ways. The sun began to shed orange and then later dark red beams upon me as I walked before the stars came out. The temperature began to drop- I had to find somewhere now.

Think, Charlotte, think.

"Miss Adler-Holmes?" I wheeled quickly, thinking rapidly.

"Who are you?"

"I work for the government and have been sent to escort you." I quickly analyse the man before me- no weapon, earpiece, £400 suit. All leading to one answer: Mycroft. I nod, following him. Not that I had a choice. Mycroft would let me think I had one but in reality, he was watching right now and if I didn't follow they'd force me to.

I hopped into the black saloon car and we rushed off to a large, extravagant building that had Mycroft written all over it. Not literally but his style. The man opened the car door and I climbed out, walking up the steps and opening the front door for myself.

"Uncle Mycroft?" I called out to him.

"In here." I traced the sound to the library.

"Ah, my dear niece. How are you?"

"Cold."

"Well how about you sit down and have a cup of tea?" He was being too nice. I took a seat on one of the lounge chairs.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, Charlotte. Just please take a seat. I've been worried about you and wanted to make sure you made it home safely tonight."

"Home?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Well I gather you don't want to go to your mothers and so your father is the only other option. I have already called him and he is on his way." I stood.

"No. I can't. He... hates me."

"No, he hates your mother. You are one of the few Sherlock Holmes actually cares for."

"No. He doesn't." I raised my voice.

"Charlotte Adler-Holmes. Sit down. Now." He emphasized the now as I shrunk back into my chair.

"Whilst I agree your father has... difficulties shall we say, in accessing his emotions, you would have to be a goldfish to not be able to see how much he cares for you. So, Charlotte, are you a goldfish?" I glared at Mycroft.

"No, it seems as though you are a Holmes." My uncle finished, handing me a cup of tea. I took it, resting it in my palms. The doorbell rang.

"Now, Charlotte. Can you deduct who that is?" My uncle smirked, sarcasm lining his voice. I rolled my eyes before placing my cup down and walking to the door.

"Thank you for having me, Uncle." I shut the door and moved to the front door, picking up one of Mycroft's coats on the way before opening it, stepping into the damp London air, closing the door and leading my father down towards the taxi that had brought him here. He slid in next to me.

"221b Baker Street, please." He informed the taxi driver before we started driving away from my Uncle who watched us from his window.