Contact High → Sherlock Holmes (BBC) [on hold]

{ forty-one }

The light buzzed on the game board in front of Sherlock and Mycroft. "Bugger!" Mycroft exclaimed angrily. He dropped the little plastic heart back down into the cavity. Operation was always his worst game, which was probably why Sherlock had picked it after he won chess. The was the deal, even as children. Whoever won got to pick what was next.

"Can't handle a broken heart, how telling," Sherlock said snidely.

Mycroft shot him a look, "You aren't doing very well with one either. Besides, don't be smart."

Sherlock shifted uncomfortably and looked away, "Well, that takes me back. 'Don't be smart, Sherlock, I'm the smart one'."

"I am the smart one," Mycroft snapped.

Sherlock gave a heavy sigh, "I used to think I was an idiot."

"Both of us thought you were an idiot, Sherlock," Mycroft bit back. He sat up in his chair smugly, "We had nothing else to go on until we met other children."

Sherlock nodded in remembrance, "Ah, yes. That was a mistake."

"Ghastly," Mycroft sighed, "What were they thinking?"

Sherlock tilted his head to the side, "Probably something about trying to make friends."

"Oh yes," Mycroft cooed sarcastically, "'Friends'. Of course, you go for that sort of thing now. And how has that worked out for you?"

"Better to have and lost than not to have had at all," Sherlock remarked stiffly, "Have you? Had a friend, then?"

"If you seem slow to me, Sherlock, can you imagine what real people would be like?" Mycroft chided, "I'm living in a world of goldfish."

Sherlock steepled his hands under his chin, "Yes, but I've been away for two years."

"So?" Mycroft snorted.

"Oh, I don't know," Sherlock gave a sly smile, "I thought perhaps you might have found yourself a... goldfish."

Mycroft frowned in disgust, "Change the subject -- now!"  He stood up from his seat and moved towards the fireplace. Sherlock watched him disinterestedly from his chair, "Rest assured, Mycroft, whatever this underground network of yours is up to, the secret will reside in something seemingly insignificant or bizarre."

Mrs. Hudson appeared in the doorway with a tray of tea things. She gave the two Holmes brothers a happy smile, "I can't believe it! Him -- sitting in his chair again! I just can't believe it!" Sherlock spared her a smile, watching her affectionately as she made them tea. Mrs. Hudson turned to Mycroft, "Oh, isn't it wonderful, Mr. Holmes?"

"I can barely contain myself," Mycroft said dryly.

Sherlock chuckled, "Oh, he really can, you know."

Mrs. Hudson laughed, "He's secretly pleased to see you, underneath all that." She pulled a pompous sour face. Mycroft shoved his hands in his pockets, "Sorry, which one of us?" Mrs. Hudson stopped in the doorway and smiled, "Both of you."

<>

Carmen looked about the full classroom she had. Students, old and young, crowded around the bar to do their stretches. Carmen watched them all with affection in her heart. She loved teaching, and she loved ballet. She reached down to tie the ribbons of her pointes. She needed to do her stretches as well.

She took up a spot next to a woman who was only a couple of years younger than herself. "Hello, Ms. Hughs," she smiled up at Carmen. "Oh, for the last time, Amy, call me Carmen," she sighed back.