Beneath The Mask

chapter 12

Chapter:

JAMES: Morning Mishap

I slowly wake up from what feels like a ridiculously deep sleep. The urge to slip right back into it is so tempting. I look at the bed. I don't recognize it. Nor do I recognize the room. What happened? Oh yeah, I remember Mycroft's drill sergeants. They must have let me go. Right, that's it. Cameron came and we went to a hotel. I remember now. I push myself up and notice there is breakfast sitting on a tray on the bedside table. Must have been Cameron. She's in the next room I think.

I get up and see how dishevelled the bed is. And me. I see my wallet, mobile, and my pack of gum that- that looks like someone shredded it. Huh? The joint door is to my left, so I prepare to knock. But I don't want to wake her if she is asleep. So, instead, I peek inside the unlocked door. I see her sitting in a chair and reading a book.

"Morning, James," she says with a smile before putting the book down.

"Morning," I reply as I step inside her room.

"You're feeling better I hope?"

"Yeah," I hesitate, "Thanks for... you know."

"We'll talk while you eat your breakfast, ok?"

I nod and go back to the room to eat while she follows.

"So, I didn't get a good answer last night," she says.

"Answer to what?" I ask before taking my first bite.

"How long did you expect for the wild card to take effect?"

I don't remember not answering that, but nonethless. "Twelve hours. What's wrong with you?" I reply as a tease.

She rolls her eyes. "You have a lot of people to thank."

"Who else?"

"Jonathan, first and foremost, Crystal and David for my passport, and I don't know who else Jonathan got involved."

"Ah. Jonathan," I say, knowing he would always come through, "He does good work." I've known him the longest of anyone I've worked with.

"I figured," she says, "You should clear your phone history from time to time."

I just smirk. I don't bother with those little things. Some call it sloppy, I call it selective efforts.

"But you owe me," she says.

She's right. She did do a lot for me considering her ordinary life. "I'm sorry."

"You might not have a clean record," she starts off, "But I do. And you're going to need a way to figure out how to explain all of this to my detective friend who is worried sick and tracked me all the way to London."

"Wouldn't I just tell her?" I ask. Isn't that obvious?

"In case you've forgotten, Raven is one the side of the law. And I am trying to preserve her good opinion of you."

Since when do I care about people's opinion of me? "Oh." What else can I say?

"Exactly. And it won't be easy skirting around her either. She's the one that discovered Sherlock was in Russia."

"Really?" I say with raised brows.

"Yes. I was going to have her trace him to a specific location but she asked some questions I couldn't answer. Like why were we looking for a detective in hiding."

"Ah." I think for a moment. "We could tell her that he is my brother," I offer with a laugh. But she doesn't look amused.

"James," she says with arms crossed, "This is serious."