August Holmes, Sherlock's Daughter

Chapter Thirty: Old Scars

TW for later in the chapter..

January 1st

I huffed dramatically as I plopped into the chair next to Sherlock. We were in Mycroft's office, going over the recent events of Chris Moriarty's death. They were altering the footage to make it look like Sherlock didn't shoot him. The edge of my lip twitched, you can get away with anything now a days.

"What you're about to see is classified beyond top secret." Mycroft's voice brought me back to attention. "Is that quite clear? Don't minute any of this."

The woman who Mycroft directed his comment towards folded her hands into her lap.

"Once beyond these walls, you must never speak of it. A D-notice has been slapped on the entire incident. Only those within this room – code names Antarctica, Langdale, Porlock and Love – will ever know the whole truth."

Sherlock keep his head down as he tapped on his phone impatiently.

"As far as everyone else is concerned, going to the Prime Minister and way beyond, Chris Moriarty.... Are you tweeting?!" Everyone turned to look at Sherlock. who looks up guiltily and tries to cover his phone.

"No." Sherlock said with a straight voice.

"Well, that's what it looks like." Mycroft scoffed.

"Of course I'm not tweeting. Why would I be tweeting?" Sherlock smirked.

"Give me that." Mycroft walks across to Sherlock and reaches for his phone.

"What? No. Get off. What are you doing?" Sherlock trades his phone to the hand farthest from Mycroft and tries to get it out of his grasp. "Get off. What ...?"

"Give it here." Mycroft said sternly. He pulled the phone from Sherlock's hand and glares at the screen.

"'Back on terra firma.'"

"Don't read them out." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"'Free as a bird.'" Mycroft continued to mock Sherlock's tweets. I hide my laughter.

"God, you're such a spoilsport." My father sighed.

"Will you take this matter seriously, Sherlock?" Mycroft crossed his hands over his chest and glared daggers at the both of us.

"I am taking it seriously. What makes you think I'm not taking it seriously?"

"'Hashtag OhWhatABeautifulMorning.'"

I sniggered.

"Look, not so long ago I was on a mission that meant certain death – my death – and now I'm back, in a nice warm office with my big brother, my daughter and ... Are those ginger nuts?" Sherlock looks excitedly at a plate on the table and springs to his feet to walk over there.

"Oh, God." Mycroft sighed exasperated.

"Love ginger nuts." Sherlock grabs a handful of biscuits and shove them in his mouth.

"Our doctor said you were clean." Lady Smallwood spoke up.

"I am, utterly. No need for stimulants now, remember? I have work to do." He bit into another biscuit.

"You're high as a kite!" Sir Edwin shouted, appalled at Sherlock's behavior in Mycroft's office.

"Natural high, I assure you. Totally natural. I'm just..." Sherlock starts to sing dramatically with his hands outstretched to the sky. "... ♪glad to be aliiiiiive! ♪"