The Last Holmes

Chapter three

It only took Sherlock a few hours to get back on form. The slim man was pacing around the living room, hands clasped behind his back whilst John just watched from his armchair.

"I need to go back to the morgue. Examine it properly. Last time was a mistake."

Only Sherlock Holmes would call his previous emotional outburst a mistake. He was still almost colourless but determination was forming in his eyes.

"You sure you want to go back?"

The question was simple enough, casual enough, but it set Sherlock on edge. Would his feelings make a fool of him again? He doubted it. Something like that was a rarity, it never happened. Not since he was a child. And, he told himself, it would absolutely not happen again.

"Of course, as I keep assuring you John, I am fine."

"Ok."

There was no point in arguing. Once the detective had decided, that was it. He was stubborn by default but once he'd set his mind on something, the man was a force to be reckoned with. Opposing him was a pointless endeavour. However, distracting him was surprisingly easy for his flatmate.

"How about the crime scene? Need to look at that?"

"Obviously."

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It was the first time John had clapped eyes on Mycrofts home. A large farmhouse stood before them, completely unlike the pristine mansion of Johns imagination. Ivy was climbing all over the sturdy red brick and the wooden door was almost splintering. From the outside it seemed every bit the idyllic family home. Not at all Mycrofts style.

Sherlock lifted up the police tape for himself and his companion before stepping through the small white gate. He noted the surprise on Johns face as he checked out the surroundings.

"Mycroft chose this place to be inconspicuous. He was basically the British government, remember? Terrorists aren't exactly likely to target this place. He was hardly ever at home anyway. The man practically lived in the office."

Now that sounded like Mycrofts style.

"Ah. Smart move."

"Not really. He still ended up dead."

John watched in shock as Sherlock sauntered into the house. How was he so blasé? He was always logical but after the situation earlier, it just seemed extra cold-hearted.

"John! Are you coming inside or not?"

"Yeah. Uh, of course. Be right there."

The doctor glanced up at the darkening sky before entering.