Welcome to Baker Street

28. Know your enemy and know thyself

The cab ride is getting tedious, so Giulia decides to get more information out of him to keep up with that mysterious case.

"What do you think about the marriage of Mr and Mrs Chadley?"

Sherlock doesn't avert his gaze from the window. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you were insisting on indiscreet questions, even if Lilian had no intention of talking about the relationship of trust with her husband."

He grins at her observational skills and stares back at her.

"The relationship of distrust would be more accurate."

"So, the two of them weren't a right match, contrary to what Lestrade said."

"We could have stated that from the start since perfect couples simply do not exist."

"How cynical of you." She glowers at him.

"I'm not cynical. I'm a realist," he declares, and a grave silence fills up the car once.

Some minutes later, Giulia questions him again, "Have you ever thought about marriage?"

He wonders how long she has been cooking up that question and he gives her a bored look.

"You mean the word? Eight letters, three different vowels and consonants: not so interesting."

"No, I am talking about the act: wedding vows and ceremony, that sort of stuff. Have you ever pictured yourself in such a scenario?"

"Me getting married?" He asks perplexed, as if the subject was beyond his understanding.

"What would be wrong with it?"

He shifts his position in the seat to face her.

"Let's be totally honest: do you truly believe in marriage?"

"I do."

"But it's completely irrational," he protests, burying his head in his hands as if she had just affirmed to believe that two plus two equals five.

"I know some marriages fail—" she begins patiently but is abruptly cut off by Sherlock.

"Half of them, actually. If you could spare one minute to think about it, you'd realise that it is an irrational choice: marriage is just an inconvenient lifelong contract."

"There's much more than this," she says fervently.

"Yes: for worse, for poorer, in sickness, until death do us part. What a bright future," Sherlock mocks her.

She shakes her head in despair and raises her hands in surrender.

"I should have never brought up this subject with you. After all, why would you allow love to open your heart?" she asks sarcastically.

"Heart surgery is 48% more likely to succeed than marriage. I bet that would widely open my heart."

At that moment, the cab pulls over, and they silently hop off, ready to meet one of the most powerful men in Britain.

"You have no right to show up here, right when I am in the middle of a sensitive conversation with the Prime Minister," Mycroft bursts out, marching inside his office. He is wearing a dark suit and a red tie that he loosens a bit, letting his anger blow off.

"I can entertain him on your behalf if you'd like," his little brother retorts with a mischievous grin.

"Good Heavens, you'd be able to declare a war in a matter of minutes."