The Baker Street Brothers

Chapter Eleven

Enzo sighs when he sees his eldest brother Next to a black car "Sherlock, Enzo. That's him. That's the man I was talking to you about." John tells the brothers. Sherlock looks across to see his older brother "We know exactly who that is." Sherlock says as they walk over, he and Enzo looking annoyed. "So, another case cracked. How very public spirited... though that's never really your motivation, is it?" Mycroft asks. "What are you doing here?" Sherlock asks him, Enzo putting his hands in his pockets. "As ever, I'm concerned about you. Both of you." Mycroft tells them. "Yes, we've been hearing about your 'concern'." Sherlock responds. "Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?" Mycroft asks his younger brothers. "Oddly enough, no!" Enzo tells him. "We have more in common than you like to believe. This petty feud between the three of us is simply childish. People will suffer... and you know how it always upset Mummy." Mycroft reminds them. "We upset her? Us? It wasn't us that upset her, Mycroft." Sherlock glowers. "No, no, wait. Mummy? Who's Mummy?" John asks. "Mother – our mother. This is our brother, Mycroft." Enzo tells him. John stares at Mycroft in amazement "Putting on weight again?" he asks. "Losing it, in fact." Mycroft responds. It suddenly clicks with John "He's your brother?!" he asks. "Of course he's our brother." Sherlock tells him. "So he's not..." John trails off. "Not what?" Enzo asks.

The brothers look at John as he shrugs in embarrassment "I dunno – criminal mastermind?" he asks. "Close enough." Sherlock and Enzo tell him. "For goodness' sake. I occupy a minor position in the British government." Mycroft tells John. "He is the British government, when he's not too busy being the British Secret Service or the CIA on a freelance basis." Enzo lists. Mycroft sighs "Good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home. You know what it does for the traffic." Sherlock tells the eldest Holmes, walking off. Enzo goes to follow but is stopped by Mycroft "Lorenzo-" he starts. "Don't call me that." Enzo scowls. Mycroft sighs "Sherlock sent me the list." he tells him. "Good for you." Enzo nods, pushing past Mycroft and following after Sherlock. After a minute, John catches up to them "So: dim sum." he says. "Mmm! I can always predict the fortune cookies." Sherlock tells him. "No you can't." John tells him. "Almost can. You did get shot, though." Sherlock says. "Sorry?" John asks. "In Afghanistan. There was an actual wound." Enzo clarifies. "Oh, yeah. Shoulder." John nods. "Shoulder! I thought so." Sherlock tells him. "No you didn't." John responds. "The left one." Sherlock says. "Lucky guess." John tells him. "I never guess." Sherlock responds. "Yes you do." John laughs before looking at three brothers, who are both smiling "What are you so happy about?" he asks. "Moriarty." Sherlock responds. "What's Moriarty?" John asks. "I've absolutely no idea." Enzo grins.

Enzo sits on the sofa eating his food, Sherlock and John sat in their chairs near the fireplace. After a minute he puts his take out box on the table "Right, I'm off to bed." he decides. "Night." John nods. "Goodnight Enzo. Oh, and I found your secret stash." Sherlock tells him. "Which one?" Enzo smirks, walking out his room. Sherlock sighs and shakes his head "I'll be right back." he tells John, following after his brother. Reaching Enzo's room, Sherlock finds Enzo sat on his bed looking at a photo album "Enzo." he says. "Sherlock." Enzo responds, not looking at his brother. Sherlock goes over and sits next to him brother, looking over his shoulder at the pictures "It's alright to still miss them." he tells him. "I miss them everyday, Sherlock." Enzo mumbles. "I know." Sherlock nods, putting his arm round his brother's shoulders. Enzo leans into his brother, letting him comfort him "I know you had a stash hidden." Sherlock tells him. "Mhm." he responds. "How much and of what?" Sherlock asks him. Enzo passes him a piece of paper "Get some sleep." Sherlock tells him, leaving the room.