*The above picture is the actual Al Duca in Piccadilly Circus. I did not take this photo, but it is probably the best one I could find of the layout of the restaurant.*
The night of the gathering for those in Lestrade's wedding party was spent by me and Sherlock yelling at each other for the most part.
However, it was not because we were angry with one another. Before the event, with the television blaring and Sherlock's hair dryer blowing, we could not talk at a normal volume.
"Can you keep it down up here? The neighbors can hear you next door! Are you having yet another row? The walls are paper-thin! You don't need to tell the whole universe that you hate each other!" Mrs. Hudson yelled from downstairs.
"We don't-ugh, it's complicated," I yelled. "Just go away and we'll shut up!" I finished. Mrs. Hudson never garnered a reply. "Are you ready yet, Sherlock?"
"Yeah, I'm just putting on eyeliner. You done?"
"Yep," I said, opening the door. "Come on, let's go. If we leave in less than a minute, I don't think we'll be more than five minutes late."
"One second!" Sherlock yelled. I heard something hit the door, and in a second, Sherlock walked out. She was in a cocktail-length black tunic. I was in a rented pantsuit tuxedo. I think it might have been three sizes too small, but while walking next to perfect-body-without-going-to-the-gym Sherlock, this flaw was greatly magnified.
I wore my hair in a ponytail that night, breaking my streak of over a half-year with my hair in buns. It was even longer and more annoying than I'd guessed it would be when I tried to brush it out. I still wore my black watch on my left wrist and gold band around my right fourth finger that I could not be in public without, as well.
Downstairs, a cab was waiting for us. I had called it a while ago, and the cabbie was not exactly happy to see us. He must have been waiting there for a half hour, at least. And ours was likely his last trip of the day.
"Take us to the Al Duca at Piccadilly. You get fifteen extra if we arrive by eight-thirty."
"Thank you, ma'am," the cabbie stated flatly as we sped away from Baker Street.
We ended up arriving at eight thirty-five. Lestrade's party was not in the main dining area, so after a minute or two of walking around trying to find her table, we called over a waitress to take us to the table.
The first thing I noticed was that Lestrade's fiancée was there, as well. I was thinking this would be more of a ladies-only bridal shower. Lestrade was there, in a long gold dress of the sort that I'd have never thought I'd ever see her in. She waved to us and ran over, nearly knocking her fiancée's best man out of his chair.
"Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes!" she said loudly, hugging us in one collective gesture that enveloped both of us at the same time. My sister and I went with it, and afterwards looked at each other as if to ask if this was only the beginning of what would be a very tedious night.
"I'd like you to meet my fiancée," Gina said bringing us around to the other side of the large round table.
I will not give the name of Gina Lestrade's then-fiancée. In doing this, I take into consideration the fact that the couple is no longer together and that neither I nor Sherlock have ever really held a full conversation with the man.
He shook my hand, and he introduced me to the man sitting next to him that was his best man. This man was named Anthony Lee, and I shook his hand as well.
To allow the reader to visualize the layout of the table, I was seated next to him with Sherlock to my right and Lestrade to her right. Obviously, the D.I. was seated with her fiancée.
They both stood and addressed the table now that everyone had arrived.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to thank you for coming. I know it's on such short notice and I'm not having a bridal shower or rehearsal or anything, but you know I couldn't afford that anyway, and so I only wanted a few people here for a sort of Pre-wedding Celebration."
Lee clapped, and so Sherlock and I began to as well. Lestrade bowed as a performer would at the end of a show. Her fiancée smiled at all of us still seated around the table.
The waiter walked up to our table just as Lestrade and her fiancée took their seats again. He handed us menus, and asked us if we wanted any drinks. Lestrade and her fiancée ordered white wine, Lee ordered a glass of Cabernet, and Sherlock and I elected not to drink. There was no way Lestrade could afford this extravagance.
"Hey Lestrade!" Sherlock yelled across the table when all the orders were taken. "When's the wedding going to be?"
"December. We wanted to have room to change things if necessary," Lestrade said.
"December? That's not a lot of time to change things," Lee said. He had a point, and I looked at the date on my phone. October 24th. Whatever it was that Lestrade had to change, she had less time than I think she assumed.
But just then, Lestrade received a phone call. Her face went nearly white, and she hung up after about a minute or so of listening and whispering 'yes' and 'okay' every few seconds.
"Have you been to the Diogenes Club today?" Lestrade asked me.
I was now struck with confusion. "Yes, in the morning, why?"
"Did you notice anything odd this morning while you were there?"
"Nothing in particular. There are some odd members of the club, but this is something you know, since you were once a member. What are you getting at? Did something happen?"
"I'd say so. One of the Seniors of the Club was murdered tonight."
*Cliffhanger!!! But seriously this is where it starts to get good. I can't wait for you to read it! Btw I hit 130 reads today, so if you're reading this and you made it this far, THANK YOU!!!*
YOU ARE READING
The Autobiography of Mycroft Holmes
FanfictionSo, you want to know what it's like to live with Sherlock Holmes? You want to know how Mycroft Holmes became the intimidating British Government official known to some as the "ice man" and others as the British Government? You want to know who Mycro...
