Play the Game - Sherlock fanfic (Sequel to Painting Murders)

Date Night

We left the offices, happy to step outside into the fresh air. Inside had become stuffy and warm - or at least it had in my opinion.

I clutched the laptop to my chest that now contained my own copy of the corrupted Tech Three Programming system. It hadn't taken long for APS to find me a battered old laptop and wipe the whole thing clean for me. I'd used it like a sort of memory disc only on a much larger scale.

"Well that was eventful." John sighed, looking at his watch and then the main road searching for a cab.

I was still processing the email fearfully through my mind.

Playground . . . Playground . . . Playgr-

"Everly!" Sherlock suddenly snapped from no where.

I bolted upright and looked around bemused and dazed.

"Yes, sorry. What were you saying?" I backtracked having no memory of him speaking to me in the last thirty seconds.

Sherlock eyed me up curiously and I hesitated under his stare, "Yes?"

"Are you coming back to Baker Street with us?" John repeated what Sherlock must have asked me before, only slowly this time.

"Yes. I'll drop of the laptop and go home." I chewed on my lip, unable to look directly at Sherlock for a while, scared his deductions were plucking me apart like crows on a corpse.

Suddenly his phone rang.

He broke eye contact with me to fish it out of his pocket and answered it, "Mycroft?"

Mycroft must have said something troubling on the other end of the line as Sherlock frowned deeply then surprisingly handed the phone to me.

"Hello?" I answered, holding my hair away from my ear to put the phone close.

"Miss Sapphire, is there any reason why you haven't been answering my calls?" Mycroft's voice was sharp and unamused.

"You've been calling me?" I wondered out loud, slipping my own phone out of my jean pocket and looking at the screen. Ten missed calls and three texts all from Mycroft.

"Oh look at that! So you have." I mumbled as he huffed over the line.

"I need you to meet my driver at Baker Street immediately so he can bring you to me." Mycroft instructed dryly.

I shook my head even though I was aware he couldn't see me, "Actually I was wondering if it was possible for you to link your software up with a laptop and then bring it to Baker Street tomorrow?"

"Excuse me?" Mycroft questioned, not happy that I was setting arrangements.

"I think I've found out a way of detecting the fault that you're experiencing but I can only operate in Baker Street." I explained, looking at John rather then Sherlock to make sure it was okay to meet in their flat. He nodded.

"And how do you propose I do that, Miss Sapphire?" Mycroft grumbled. I could tell he was sat behind his desk in his king sized leather chair, tapping his feet impatiently.

"Well you did have a technician before me didn't you?" I wracked my brains for the man's name, "S - S - um, oh, Solomon! He can wire the link up for you. Tell him it's a software transfer. He'll know what you mean." I gestured with my hand just as John successfully got a cab to pull over.

We all clambered in.

"Tell my brother I'll be there at two O'clock." Mycroft said through gritted teeth. I nodded, aware that Sherlock had heard Mycroft through the phone anyway. Then he hung up.