It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

59 - Lectures

Elizabeth entered Mycroft's chauffeured car with a passive-aggressive slamming of the door once she was in. She removed her gloves and com hurriedly. There was a noticeable twinkle in her eyes as the tears continued to gather.

"Where's Sherlock?" Mycroft questioned her.

He wasn't particularly happy at his brother for turning up without any warning. Sherlock could have compromised the mission, for goodness sake. But this unpredictable behaviour also worried the elder Holmes as he was starting to see the toll this minor break up with Elizabeth was having on his younger brother. Surely he would get over it soon. He hoped he would.

"Probably still in the damn cupboard." She spat, removing her backpack and placing it by her feet before wiping the water from her eyes.

Mycroft was in half a mind to leave his brother there for what he almost did, risking the mission so wrecklessly, but it was his brother after all. Surprisingly, even to Mycroft himself, he almost got out to see if he could spot Sherlock but there was no need as he soon spotted his brother exiting the alley way with a glum look on his face.

Opening the car door on his side, Mycroft got out, "Did we get lost, little brother? Or were you really so stupid as to follow?"

Sherlock paused at hearing his brother.  He almost began walking in the opposite  direction until he heard the fire door behind him open. Seeing the security pile out, Sherlock realised that joining his brother and Elizabeth would be unfortunately necessary. The detective hurried over to his brother's open door, where Mycroft glared at him as he got in.

Elizabeth didn't even glimpse Sherlock as he entered the car. She was still fighting back tears.

Mycroft closed the door and tapped the the seat in front of him, alerting the chauffeur that it was time to go. The car started with a low rumble and just as the security turned the corner out of the alley, the midnight-black car was on its way back to 221B.

Sherlock sat on the seat facing his brother and Elizabeth, looking like a child who had been sent to the headteacher's office for misbehaving.

"May I please have the drive, Miss Parrish?" Mycroft broke the silence and held his hand out as he glared at Sherlock.

Without uttering a single vowel or consonant, Elizabeth pulled the USB out of a pouch in her belt and placed it in his hand.

The thief continued looking out of the window, "Now that Sandborn knows he's being watched, won't he discuss anything incriminating elsewhere?"

"Possibly. But the cameras and coms will still be useful. We may discover that Mr Sandborn begins frequenting other locations where we can find out more. Think of it like smoking a rabbit out of its warren and we've only left it one way out."

"Are your comparisons always this cheery, Brother Mine?" Sherlock joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

This didn't happen though. Instead, he was glowered at by the Ice Man.

"Sherlock, in case you didn't get the memo, you're not exactly high on - " It was at this point that Mycroft noticed the red mark on his brother's cheek, "Apparently - either of our lists of favourites at the moment. I would suggest keeping your mouth shut for the time being."

With a subtle gulp, Sherlock's hint of a smile disappeared and he looked over at Elizabeth. She was still looking outside. The detective found that his stomach didn't quite feel right - he wasn't sick - or maybe he was - but it felt different. It ached but not in sick way, just an uncomfortable one. How did people describe it? Like it was butterflies in their stomachs? He wondered why the idiom had used butterflies instead of something else. Not that he knew what he would replace it with.