Play the Game - Sherlock fanfic (Sequel to Painting Murders)

No tea and no biscuits

Sorry the update took a while but here you go :)

I rounded the corner and hopped up the stairs that lead to the entrance of the Diogenes Club. As I passed the bronze plaque that displayed the buildings name, I flicked it. It was a habit I'd developed over the time of coming here. Usually it was the only place I could find Mycroft since I still wasn't sure where his head office was located. That was the trouble with Mycroft Holmes: you didn't find him, he found you.

I pushed all my weight against the gleaming glass doors that were really heavy and hummed to the music playing through the single earphone in my ear as I walked over the rich, bouncy carpet into the main sitting room of the club. It was like a palace inside, all red and gold décor with plush chairs and dainty ornaments on designer tables. Lights like chandeliers hung from the ceiling, swaying gracefully in the draft I'd created with my entrance. This was the nearest thing to Buckingham palace I'd ever experience. Really it was just a posh room for all the gentlemen in London to sit in and read their newspapers in peace without interacting with each other or anyone else. The first time I'd come here I'd made the mistake of opening my mouth just to say hello to one of the older men - the act had resulted in me being escorted to a room where I was informed I was permitted to talk but only in a hushed voice.

I stood now, observing the classy men sat reading their morning papers, never once looking up or even nodding to each other to acknowledge each other's existences. These were the kind of high end people that I could only ever imagine mixing with. I wasn't going to lie, I was common. I swore like a soldier and definitely didn't act properly and to the specification a young lady should have in the presence of these men.

So, to resist the urge to shout something, I shuffled towards the door at the far end of the room, careful that my boots didn't make a sound on the carpet. I gently opened the door and closed it again with the same precision as before, finding myself in a long corridor that was a few degrees cooler than the main room. I made my way along the edge of the large room to a door situated to the left. The plaque on the door read Stranger's Room.

I knocked gently out of politeness before opening the door a crack and popping my head around. The room inside was of the same vast enormity as the one before and decorated almost identically.

Sat by the empty fireplace in a chair that looked a little too stiff to be comfortable, was Mycroft Holmes himself.

I smiled, not because I was remotely happy to see him, but out of nicety. He wasn't looking though, too busy reading the book held in his hand, a glass balanced on his knee precisely.

I sauntered over to the chair opposite him just as the music on my iPod changed from indie rock to full on screamo. Bring me the Horizon really wasn't the most appropriate band to be playing in a room like the one I was stood in, never mind in the presence of Mycroft.

I sat down and fumbled to turn my iPod off, pulling it free from my coat to put back in my backpack that I'd slung down by my chair.

I shuffled slightly to save myself from being swallowed up by the cushiony fabric of the seat.

Mycroft, only at this point, looked up at me from the page of his book and sighed heavily. He blinked, rubbing his forehead as if he'd just awoken from a deep sleep.

I caught a glance at the front cover of the book. I'd assumed it would be some kind of boring documentation from like the 1800's or something but was surprised to read the title: A Detective's Game.

Mycroft seemed to register my surprise, "A rather interesting work, I must say. But I'm sure you know the inner workings of it better than I do."

I snorted then said shortly, "I haven't read it."

Mycroft's face remained flat, "Why am I not surprised?"

I shrugged then pointed to the small coffee table at the side of us that had a silver tray balanced on it.

"Could I maybe have a cup of tea? Since you didn't offer." I said with a smile that probably screamed with falseness.

Although Mycroft and I were on slightly better terms than a year ago I couldn't let go of the nagging bitterness that overwhelmed me when near him. It was a constant reminder that, through his own choices, the man in front of me had made my life a misery. Contrary to this he'd also played an important role in improving it greatly.

"Usually it is customary for the host to offer a beverage, not for the visitor to demand one." Mycroft said pursing his lips.

Like I said, I didn't behave to the high standard obviously expected.

"Sorry." I said still smiling, because now it was just amusing, "Can you please offer me a drink so I can politely accept it?"

Mycroft tutted to himself, "You, Miss Sapphire, are impossible."

"That's pretty much what Sherlock said this morning while I was having breakfast."

"Well he too is impossible - but not on the same level as you." Mycroft said.

"I was actually only talking about Rice Krispies but apparently that's not the right kind of conversation to be having at the breakfast table." I mused.

Mycroft frowned and continued not to even make a move to the tray to make tea. Was imagining that the tray was even there? Bit of a stupid thing to imagine - a tea tray.

"Ummm I imagine breakfast at Baker Street is a joyous event." Mycroft muttered to himself before checking his phone and getting stiffly to his feet, straightening his suit jacket accordingly.

"We going somewhere?" I asked.

"Of cause, I called you here for a reason." He said as if it was obvious.

"Oh, I thought we were just chatting." I admitted - but of cause we would have to go to his office to look at the server that was causing a problem.

He collected his coat, draping it over his arm before stalking off toward the door I'd entered through. I skipped after him quickly, juggling my bag about so I could messily pull on my coat and scarf before hauling my backpack on.

We ignored everyone as we silently passed through the building and out of the door onto the pavement where a black Jag had just pulled up. One of Mycroft's many assistants got out and held the door open for us as we got inside. Well, Mycroft got inside - I fell inside, like the graceful creature I was.

"Is it possible for you to be less uncoordinated?" Mycroft asked snidely.

I shrugged, "Let's face it, I'm about as coordinated as a baby elephant with all the grace of one too - don't hold out much hope." I smiled lazily.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and not in an amused manner before sighing, "Hopefully you can solve the little problem we are having with the computer system better then you can get in cars."

I laughed before looking out of the blacked out windows.

A really big thank you to everyone who is reading and voting and leaving comments :) I really appreciate it all. I'll be updating again soon - I hope :D