Chapter 2- Umbrellas, Holidays and Heated Debates

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Millie's POV

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Emily has just finished coding the laptop, when we hear it; the noise of well-shod shoes ascending the stairs.

Sherlock's face darkens rapidly, and he scowls. "I told him to come tomorrow. When I would be out."

"Who?"

"Mycroft."

On cue, Mycroft enters the apartment, derision written all over his face. He props his umbrella against the wall, and strides over to the spare armchair, completely uninvited, sitting down and crossing his legs.

"Afternoon, brother mine."

"I didn't say you could come in."

Mycroft laughs, coldly, looking around at the crowded apartment and sneering. "So sorry, Sherlock. I didn't realise you had company. You've become quite the host, recently, haven't you? Holding all these little parties. Making friends. Mummy would be proud."

Emily laughs, but hastily turns it into a cough when Mycroft turns to look at her.

"Ah, Emily...I don't believe we've had the chance to catch up after your hospitalisation."

"Such a shame," she says, returning his icy politeness.

"Quite. I don't suppose-"

"What do want, Mycroft?" interrupts Sherlock, steepling his fingers and leaning back into the chair.

Mycroft raises an eyebrow at his abrasiveness, but doesn't comment. Instead, he reaches over to the table on his right, and delicately picks up Sherlock's phone.

"Don't touch that-"

Mycroft ignores him, and begins scrolling through Sherlock's inbox:

"Just as I suspected. You haven't received a case in days."

Sherlock stands up, crosses the room and snatches the phone off of Mycroft, wiping it on his jacket and glaring at his brother. Mycroft gives him a tight-lipped smile in return.

"Isn't it a good thing I turned up to alleviate the boredom, Sherlock?"

"Not particularly, no."

"I digress. I'm here to offer you something that I don't think you'll refuse."

Sherlock sighs, and sits down heavily next to me, putting his feet up on the coffee-table, deliberately looking as defiantly casual as possible-

"How many times do I have to tell you, Mycroft; I'm not, nor will I ever be, interested in your petty, self-inflating offer of a knighthood."

John raises both eyebrows and stares at his lap; whether he's amused or horrified at Sherlock's audacity, I can't tell.

Mycroft looks at Sherlock through narrowed eyes.

"The tone in which you describe a reward of the highest cultural prestige never fails to astound me, brother dear. However, that is not why I'm here."

There's a small silence.

Mycroft adjusts his waistcoat and sits up a bit straighter in the armchair-

"I am here, because I am offering you the chance to go to Switzerland. You see, there's been a series of...disappearances, recently, all concerning important members of the British Government. They could have chosen anyone to investigate this, but it was on my recommendation that they take you four-"

"Me?" interrupts Emily, incredulous. Mycroft looks at her steadily-

"Oh, yes. Your abilities would be very useful in this situation, Miss. Schott."

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