The Fall of Miss Holmes (BBC Sherlock FanFic)

Chapter Eighteen

I got out of the car first, with Sherlock swiftly following. He matched my stride as we headed up the stairs and towards the doors of the manor. I reached for them but he beat me to it and pulled them open, stepping back for me to enter.

"Thanks." I mumbled, ducking my head slightly.

"Upstairs." He said, nodding in the direction as if I didn't know where I was going.

Again I noticed the various frames and pieces of furniture that were covered with white cloths as if to keep the dust off, like somebody was moving house. Mycroft hadn't mentioned anything but I just assumed it was another secret being kept from me.

I wasted no time as I paced down the corridors, past my old room and finally into the study. Without bothering to knock, I pushed the door open and took my usual seat opposite the desk. Mycroft looked up at me from the paper he had been reading as if I had interrupted some kind of important exam that he was taking. He sighed deeply, pushing the paper away and sitting back in his chair. Sherlock stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and walking over to the bookshelf, leaning against it, rather than sitting down.

"How was it?" Mycroft asked. His voice was low, tentative like he knew he had to be careful or I'd snap.

I fixed him with an icy glare. "How do you think it was?"

His eyes flicked over to meet Sherlock's and from the corner of my eye I saw him shrug and nod his head at the same time. The nod was the answer to his question. The shrug was an explanation of my behaviour.

"So what happens now?" I asked, pulling my legs up beneath me onto the seat.

"Well," Mycroft reached into the draw beside him and pulled out a brown file. "First you should read this."

"Why?"

He sighed. "Because I said so."

It made me laugh. It wasn't a normal laugh though, not my laugh. It was harsh and brittle and like that of someone on the verge of insanity but I couldn't help it as it bubbled out from my lips and spilled into the room. It seemed to poison the air and caused Mycroft to look down at the desk with a frown while Sherlock watched me, wondering whether he should have been worried or not.

"I'm not one of your minions, Mycroft. I don't have to do anything you tell me." I said, stubbornly. "Just tell me what it is."

He glared at me, just like he would when I was younger and being an irritating, petulant, little, child. "I try to treat you like an adult, Alice and still you find complaint."

"It's a case file." Sherlock cut in, stepping towards the chair beside me and gaining my attention. "It contains information of every known person to work for Moriarty. It has details on each of his little schemes and every one of his networks. Everything he built up is right here in this file."

I frowned, looking between the two brothers to attempt to find a hint of the lie but there was none. "Why haven't you used that before?"

"We didn't have it before." Mycroft said, a little snippily. "Once Moriarty died those that worked for him seemed a little more compliant when answering our questions."

I nodded. "Why did you want me to read it? Why am I suddenly trustworthy enough to be included in this?"

Sherlock sighed and sat in the chair next to mine, crossing one leg over the other and looked over me to the bookcase behind me. It almost looked like he was searching for something in particular, something he'd been dying to read for a long time. But I knew he'd read and memorized every book in that office and what he was really doing was avoiding my gaze.