A/N- Sorry it’s so short. I’ve moved school again, so I’ve been pretty busy… Y’know… I hope it’s worth the read, though. I’ll try and update more frequently when I can.
Mycroft Holmes woke up feeling particularly murderous the next morning. He had (without his brother knowing he was still going to such lengths) spent the last seven and a half months or so trying to find out about this ‘Hazel Peregrine’/’Twist’ character, but to no avail. She was practically none-existent. And now, when he finally had a legitimate photograph, he recovered it only to find that it had been replaced by one that had been taken- wait for it- seven and a half months ago.
Sherlock was pacing around and down Mycroft’s dining room, going clockwise. Mycroft was doing the same, but he was going anti-clockwise. The scowled at eachother whenever they came close. John, Mrs Hudson and Violet (Sherlock and Mycroft’s mother) sat on the dining table, looking concerned and slightly dizzy as the Holmes brothers circled the long table like sharks. Mrs Hudson had insisted on coming along, naturally curious about this Hazel, and also to offer her assistance with the cooking of the Christmas dinner.
“So,” Violet said to break the silence. “How did the cleaning go?”
“Huh?” John said. “I mean, pardon?”
“The cleaning. You and Sherlock were cleaning the flat.”
“Cleaning the flat?” Mrs Hudson laughed. “Not bloody likely. It’s an absolute mess. I keep telling them…”
“Oh, yes!” John interrupted. “Yeah. The cleaning went well. So glad you got him to finally switch to Ariel, Mrs Holmes.” He shot a pleading glance at Mrs Hudson.
“Oh my,” she chuckled quietly, but did not argue any further.
“I don’t believe this,” Sherlock snapped. “Can’t you just match up her face or something? And don’t say your technology isn’t ‘advanced’ enough or something like that, Mycroft. I’ve seen it all.”
“Shut up, brother dear,” Mycroft growled back.
“You shouldn’t speak to your brother like that,” Violet shook her head.
“Which one of us?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow.
“Both of you.”
“I’ll stop talking like that,” Mycroft sighed wearily. “When he stops hacking his way into classified government information.”
“Why not make your passwords harder?” Sherlock smirked. John covered up his laughter with a pretend coughing fit, to which Sherlock dropped his scorn towards Mycroft for a moment and rushed to get his husband a glass of water.
“Such a gentleman when he wants to be,” Violet tittered, shaking her head. “You could learn something from him, Myc.”
“If you think he’s such a gentleman, Mummy, darling, why not ask John what the accurate ‘Sherlockian’ definition of ‘cleaning’ is?”
“I’ve- um- I’ve just got to use the, er, loo,” John stammered, going very red and jumping out of his chair. “Please excuse me, Violet. Mrs Hudson-” he shot a cold smile at Mycroft- “Mycroft.”
“What does Myc mean?” Violet asked Mrs Hudson with a concerned look when John had left to room.
“Oh… Well,” Mrs Hudson tried to think of a way to put it that would not seem vulgar, but she could not, so she simply smiled reassuringly and said, “Nothing, dear- just that they clean rather regularly at night, because they’re usually busy with all their cases during the day...”
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Somebody to Die For- BBC Sherlock|Johnlock|Sequel to Between the Raindrops
Fanfiction(Sequel to ‘Beside You’ and ‘Between the Raindrops’) “A bullet and a bullet-wound are certainly two very different things. The bullet flies towards whom it is aimed, and the bullet-wound is the consequence of who gets hit. It is human nature that de...
