Painting Murders - (A Sherlock fanfic)

All in a nights work

I walked to the side, trudging after Mycroft, contemplating running away. Sherlock and John were stood quite a way away from us now. I could feel their eyes watching me as Mycroft came to a stop by the Jaguar. I had to admit it was a pretty, sleek car, something I would have loved to drive if I was old enough . . . and rich enough to afford one. I wondered if it was bullet proof.

As Mycroft ducked into the back of the car I dared to touch the paintwork.

I pulled my hand away quickly when Mycroft ducked back out holding a thick file firmly.

He tapped it briskly then passed it to me.

"What's this?" I dared to ask, taking the file. It was heavy and when I looked at the top of it I could see that it was filled with enough sheets of paper to start a library. Some sheets were in separate files inside the main one.

"It's a formal report." Mycroft said firmly.

"On what?" I asked, trying to make it sound like I hadn't already guessed the answer.

Mycroft lent against the car casually but authoritativly. "It's a report on how today a certain somebody managed to hack into my personal documents, read files that weren't even present on the system, view classified records and then corrupt all defence programs and system lockdowns." He paused then added, "All within half an hour."

I bit my lip and stared at the file.

"Know anyone who could do such a thing?" Mycroft asked me, his voice wiped of any kind of expression.

I considered what he was saying then looked up, "The Russians?"

His face wasn't amused which made me sigh and give up.

"Mycroft, I'm sorry, really I-,"

He cut me off by raising his hand, a gesture I didn't dare defy.

"I don't want to know the reasons." He said shortly.

I looked back down at the folder, "I guess I have to read this before you take me to court." I said mournfully, my eyes welling up. I sniffed, becoming irritated with myself.

"No," Mycroft said flatly.

I blinked and raised my head, "Pardon?"

"No." Mycroft said again before flicking the back of the folder, "Burn it, destroy it, do as you wish with it."

I stood there stunned, "I'm sorry but I don't understand."

Mycroft looked at me then rubbed his temples, something I'd come to notice he did a lot, and sighed heavily.

"Look, Everly," He said levelly, "For all the will in the world I can pretend to know a lot of things. I believed I was fully aware of what was happening in this case. I kept it secretly under wraps scared that if the public found out about the murders they would find out about Protocol92 - something I'm sure you're aware of." He said, "Now though, I come to realise that if you and Sherlock hadn't done what you both did, I would probably be covering up another dead body." He admitted although I could tell it pained him.

I licked my lips to stop them drying up, "But, I . . . I hacked you!" I said. "I broke every law in the book! I broke my parol! I committed treason!" I hissed.

Mycroft nodded, "I am aware of all that. But like I already said, if it wasn't for you and Sherlock, there'd be another body tonight and a murderer at large."

I nodded sceptically, then looked back at the folder, "So after all that, I just burn this?" I said.

"Yes. In there you'll find both reports and other charges and forms linking to this case and the instance before." He said shallowly.