Selfless | Sherlock

Employed

Sherlock had not visited in nearly a week, and had been actively avoiding me since the day I deduced him. His eyes had darkened nearly instantly and his attitude had changed entirely from only one word. The most accurate word to describe the clever detective. My deduction was correct, as despite the fact that he had John, Sherlock Homes was completely and agonizingly alone.

He was so human in his insistence on avoiding someone who knew what he was. My morning jog with Luna ended at the coffee shop, as it did most days. Luna was left outside as pets were not allowed in the cafe itself, but I always tied her where she was in my sight at all times. It wasn't long before my order was ready and in my hands. As I turned to leave and return to my dog, my eyes caught those of a familiar man. Sitting in a chair by the door, was Sherlock. He was watching me intensely, his head resting on his hand as he began to deduce. His childishness caused me to roll my eyes in amusement as I strolled past him.

"Bye Sherlock," I said cheerily, waving and heading out the door.

Luna yipped happily as I bent down to untie her from the post she had inconveniently wrapped her leash around in a knot. When I went to stand up, my eyes met a sign on the window that I had missed previously. It informed those who passed by that there was currently a job opening. Deciding to leave that for a later date, I spun on my heel and came face to face with Mycroft Holmes.

"Planning on applying for a job?" he pondered.

"Perhaps. Working part time for the Scotland Yard and at the asylum is not always the most pleasing of jobs," I responded.

He nodded in agreement and glanced through the window at Sherlock who was hunched over, staring at the ground. If I did not know any better, I would say he was moping.

"What did you say to him," he questioned, gesturing at his brother who's gaze shot up towards us.

"It was just a deduction, I didn't mean to get under his skin. I did not even think it was possible to get to him," I insisted, lowering my gaze.

The older Holmes brother sighed and nodded in response, leaning down to give Luna a light pat on the head as she lolled her tongue out in content.

"Care to join me for breakfast?" he offered, the shadow of a hopeful smile on his face.

I shook my head slowly, as I was not keen on eating while in the presence of others.

"As always," he mused, holding his arms out slightly in invitation.

I shrugged apologetically before grinning and jumping into his arms, pulling him into a tight hug. He gripped my back gently while clutching his umbrella, attempting to avoid dropping it onto the harsh pavement. For someone who seemed so heartless, Mycroft was very warm and welcoming. When we parted, the ice man had a slight smile on his face. My mouth nearly fell open in shock, but I forced it into a huge smile before waving to him. Behind him, I noticed Sherlock roll his eyes as though extremely annoyed before he stood up and began heading out the door.

"Bye Mycroft," I said cheerfully, turning on my heel and walking back in the direction of my flat.

"Goodbye Emily," he responded, trying his best to keep the instinctive coldness out of his tone.

I had not made it more than a block when Luna let out a low growl in warning, sending a small tremor up my spine. My feet fell softly upon the sidewalk as I lightened my steps in order to hear those of anyone behind me. The follower had long, even strides that fell upon the concrete nearly as lightly as my own. The light billowing of their clothing indicated that they may have been wearing a coat of some kind. As I rounded the next corner, I shot a quick glance behind me to see a familiar head of dark, curly hair.

"Sherlock?" I questioned, turning on my heel to face the man, Luna standing at my side boredly.

"So you and my brother are close," he stated.

"Wow. Good morning to you too Holmes. Yes, Mycroft and I have history," I sighed, slightly disappointed.

"You have not been called in to work in the past week, unempl-"

He stopped as my phone rang, piercing through the cool morning air. I retrieved it from my back pocket and noticed that it was Mr. Jones, my boss and the head of the nearby asylum. I shushed Sherlock and answered the call.

"One of your old patients is acting up again. I need you to come in immediately," he said quickly.

"Which one?" I asked.

"George Willis. It appears he is having more frequent 'episodes' and managed to send Olson to the hospital."

Olson was one of my classmates from high school, and Willis was a client from months ago who had taken nearly a year under my care to become anything less than dangerous.

"I'll be there soon," I promised, hanging up the phone and letting out a sigh.

"Your boss? You work at some sort of hospital," he started, holding a finger to his pursed lips in thought.

"A mental hospital," he finalized, searching my expression for any kind of reaction.

A small smile made its way onto my face as I looked up at the tall man in front of me.

"Correct. You are amazing, Sherlock," I said honestly, rubbing the top of Luna's head gently before turning on my heel and heading towards home.

"You do not have to be kind to me," he informed, causing me to glance back over my shoulder at him. 

Sherlock stood awkwardly in the cold morning air, seemingly baffled by the compliment he had received as though it was the first. The breeze caused the end of his coat to slightly flutter behind him, making him look like he was straight out of the scene of a movie.  

"I know, but it is simply in my nature to be honest."