You're An Idiot, Sherlock Holmes (OC x Sherlock)

Smurfs

~Two months later~ 

Typing my PIN into the ATM, I heaved a sigh. I inserted my card into the machine and selected transaction, waiting for it to load before a message came up on the screen. The lines appeared one by one:

There is a problem with your card

Thank you for your patience

I held back a groan as I waited for the machine to load. The past few days had been rough. My nightmares were worse than they have ever been, and last night as I woke up drenched in my own sweat, I completely forgot that Sherlock was going to stay the night at Bart's to spend more time on his experiments. I made myself tea and watched Maury until I fell asleep. The best night by far. 

Jane

My eyes went wide at the last line of the message. Don't take this out of proportion, I told myself. My PIN is kept in a record under my name, maybe the ATM's got an update where they keep track of the names to make the money extracting experience more unique and one on one. 

I heard a car sidle up behind me and I turned around. "Ohh, this is beautiful," I said in fake happiness, looking back at the ATM and Mycroft's black car. "This is just great."

~

I walked into the room labeled THE DIOGENES CLUb and found myself in the same room as a bunch of elderly men reading their newspapers. They didn't look up at my entrance, nor at the fact that my heal clicks echoed throughout the silent section. Clearing my throat, I walked up to one of the men and kneeled down to his eye level.

"Excuse me," I said to him softly, not wanting to disrupt the other men. He hasn't looked up. "I'm looking for Mycroft Holmes." After hearing his name, the man looked up in alarm and pretended to continue reading his paper. "Would you happen to know if he's around?" I asked, ignoring his reaction. "Do you know if-" 

The man's breathing quickened as I continued speaking so I stopped. He looked at me, once again in alarm, and I straightened and took a few steps backward. "All-all right then," I said cautiously. "Anyone?" I questioned, turning to the rest of the room. "Does anyone at all know where Mycroft Holmes is? I'm supposed to be seeing him. A sketchy car picked me up and took me here."

I heard a bell ring and looked around for the sound.

"Fine, then," I concluded, looking to the rest of the men. "No takers? Anyone? Am I invisible? Just to be clear, can everyone see me perfectly fine?" Two men walked into the room wearing latex gloves, and they walked up to me. I turned to them in relief. "Can you help me find-" 

One of them put their hand over my mouth and each took my arm, leading me out of the room, muffling my yells that demanded an explanation.

~

"Traditions, Jane. Our traditions define us," Mycroft said with his back turned as he poured himself a glass of scotch.

"And I'm guessing total silence is traditional?" I said snippily with a humorless laugh, realizing that I smelled like rubbing alcohol after being touched by the two men. " 'Can you pass me the sugar?' 'Can't do that, we're silent for all eternity,' " I added blithely.

"Three-quarters of the diplomatic service and half of the government front bench all sharing one tea trolly? It's all for the best, believe me," Mycroft explained in exasperation, not understanding my sarcasm. "They don't want a repeat of 1972. but we can talk in here."

A newspaper on a table caught my eye and I picked it up. "You read this stuff?" I said accusingly, holding it up.

"Caught my eye," he replied flippantly.