Millie's POV
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"Sherlock, where's my toothbrush?" shouts John from the bathroom, as the scramble for belongings commences.
Sherlock doesn't bother leaving his room. Instead, he sighs, heavily, and shouts back:
"You took it with you to work yesterday, presumably to freshen your breath: I can only assume you were meeting a work partner for an intimate-"
"Do you have to tell the whole neighbourhood!? Fine, so I...left my toothbrush at work. We'll need to stop by the services at some point so I can buy a new one."
Silence elapses, punctuated only by the rustle of fabric being piled into suitcases. I look down at my own meagre belongings; I'm not taking much. Mycroft told us the majority of our clothing would be provided. That in itself concerned me, combined with the fact that we are leaving the country to track down a malicious criminal- I'm starting to have doubts about agreeing to go on this trip in the first place.
Suddenly, there's a hammering at the door, and I recognise the knocking sequence immediately; it's Emily. I abandon my attempt at packing, and answer the door.
Emily grins at me, hauling two very large suitcases behind her-
"I thought we agreed to travel light?" I say, as she heaves her luggage into the apartment.
"This is travelling light."
I raise an eyebrow, but don't question it. There's the noise of footsteps, and John walks into the living room, doing a very pronounced double take at Emily's suitcases:
"Jesus, Emily, what have you got in there?!"
"Technical supplies," she says, shrugging, "Mycroft told me to bring everything I owned that might be useful."
There's a purr of expensive engines outside, and John goes over to the window, inhaling sharply-
"Oh my god..."
Curious, I join him by the window, whilst Emily sits down on her largest suitcase and begins typing into her phone.
And then I see what John's talking about.
No less than five cars are lined up outside in military arrangement; all black and sleek like polished onyx. There are security motorbikes at the front and back of the operation, and armed officers in the first two cars. The tall form of Mycroft Holmes exits one of the vehicles, looking up at the window and gesturing for us to come down with a wave of a gloved hand.
"Sherlock! He's here- and he's only gone and brought half of the British Security force with him," says John, retrieving his luggage and pausing at the door. Emily gets up, puts her phone away, and lifts up her two suitcases, staggering slightly under the weight. John looks at her, and says-
"Do you want some help with those?"
She smiles, wanly-
"I appreciate the offer, John, but I don't think you're going to be able to lift them. You're more than welcome to try though."
John makes a noise of offended disbelief. He draws himself up to his full height- which still makes him the shortest in the room- and reaches down to pick up a suitcase. He grasps the handle, flexing his arms, and lifts-
He gets it half a centimetre off the ground before he overbalances.
Emily laughs and picks them both up simultaneously without obvious effort:
YOU ARE READING
The Art Of Corruption ~ A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction {Book III}
Fanfiction'Moriarty is the Napoleon of crime, Watson. He is the organiser of half that is evil and nearly all that is undetected in this great city.' ~Sherlock Holmes, The Final Problem Shipped off to an expensive resort in Switzerland, Sherlock, John, Millie...
