221B

Chapter 4 - A Scandal in Belgravia

We are shown into one of the large, ornate halls of Buckingham Palace. Gigantic crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, and we are escorted into a nearby room. There's a small round table in the middle of the room. There is a sofa on one side of the table and Sherlock walks over to the one on the left. I sit down next to him as the pile of clothes and shoes are laid on the table.

"Are you even wearing any pants?" I ask Sherlock, looking at him.

"Nope."

"You come to Buckingham Palace not wearing any pants." I look ahead of me, then look back at him a moment later, noticing that he's looking at me. Our eyes meet, and a second later we burst out laughing. We quiet down and then John walks in a few moments later.

Sherlock and I calmly look at John, who holds out his hands in a gesture reading "what the hell?!". Sherlock shrugs, not interested. He looks away again, and John nods in a rather resigned way, then slowly walks into the room and sits on the other side of Sherlock. He looks ahead of himself for a moment, and I can tell he's holding back a giggle. He looks around the room again, then at me, then at Sherlock. He turns his head away again.

"Are you wearing any pants?"

"No."

"Okay." John sighs quietly. A moment later, Sherlock turns, looks at him, and I do the same. John looks at both of us. All of our eyes meet, and then we burst out laughing. John gestures around the room. "At Buckingham Palace, fine." He attempts to gain control over himself. "I'm seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray." Sherlock chuckles again.

"What are we doing here, Sherlock? Seriously, what?"

"I don't know." Sherlock says, still smiling.

"Here to see the Queen?" John guesses.

At that moment, Mycroft comes in from another room.

"I suppose so." I say.

John and Sherlock crack up again, and I join in a moment later. We continue to giggle as I notice Mycroft sigh in exasperation.

"Just once, can you three behave like grown-ups?"

"We solve crimes. I blog about it," John starts.

"And he forgets his pants." I add.

"So I wouldn't hold out too much hope." John finishes.

Sherlock looks up at Mycroft as he walks in. All humor vanishes from my face, and I notice Sherlock's face is the same.

"I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft." Sherlock says.

"What, the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report. Bit obvious, surely?"

"Transparent."

"Time to move on, then." Mycroft says. He bends down to pick up the clothes and shoes from the table. He turns to offer them to Sherlock, who looks at them as if not interested. Mycroft heaves a sigh. "We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation." He says. "Sherlock Holmes put your trousers on." He finishes sternly.

"What for?" Sherlock asks, shrugging.

"Your client."

"And my client is?" He asks, standing up.

I look over at the equerry as he walks in. "Illustrious," Sherlock looks over at him. "In the very extreme." John and I both stand up. "And remaining-I have to inform you, entirely anonymous." He looks over to Mycroft. "Mycroft!"

"Harry." Mycroft says, smiling. He walks over to shake the equerry's hand. "May I just apologize for the state of my little brother?"

"Full-time occupation, I imagine."