[Sherlolly fanfiction] Silhouettes

Chapter 25-- Treasure Hunt

A subtle, simple, acceptance between the brothers.

Sherlock rejoins Molly at the car and she squirms nervously in her jacket as her eyes ask all of the questions; mainly ones about Sherlock's well-being as she knows it's only on rare occasion they have a normal, straightforward conversation, not an argument. His look reassured her that everything was going to be alright. He said it with a subtle glance, lasting no more than a second. That's all they needed.
**
(END OF THAT WEEK)
(MOLLY'S POV)

We keep as light as we can. We know Moriarty wouldn't do something as outrageous as attack London or whatever, but the people don't know that.
It's good for us to leave for a couple of weeks, to get out of the way. All I can say about these last few weeks is that everything has seemed to have escalated very quickly.
Like a tide, it's turned. All we need to do is not drown.

Sherlock has told me a little about this 'Gun Ghyll manor'. He's described it as a 'cold, lonely country cottage', but I find that hard to believe as it has the word 'manor' in its name and Sherlock has the tendency to under-exaggerate when faced with things he doesn't agree with.
My theory is sealed as we drive through the gate posts and up a path to the building itself. Sherlock was most definitely under-exaggerating. "It's gorgeous." I breath as Sherlock pulls up in front of it. "It's flipping gorgeous." I repeat. The house is large and has massive, old windows stretching across a large percentage of the top floor. The bottom floor wears a cloak of green, luscious ivy that has tumbled over the window frames in breath-taking cascade. I think the house itself is Edwardian. The one truthful thing Sherlock said about the house is it being lonely. And it's true, it looks very lonely despite its majestic appearance. Something about the structure just says 'isolated', but I suppose that's perfect for a safe house.
He looks at it for himself. "It's Mycroft." He corrects, getting out of the car. I get out after him and he continues, "It used to be my parents'; a 'holiday home' for us all. But, later, they couldn't afford to pay for it and they were forced to sell. Though, there weren't many out there willing to take this old, isolated, cold, lonely building. Mycroft must have seen the similarities between himself and Gun Ghyll manor as he bought it off of my parents a few years back."
"Oh, that's nice of him." I say, then receiving a look from Sherlock. I change my answer. "Not nice of him?"
Sherlock looks back at the building and exhales. "Far too generous of him." He then walks forwards to the big, green door and pushes it open, revealing a large room with a beautiful, central staircase. It's like every manor from every movie, magazine and fairytale combined. And it's, once again, gorgeous. I walk forwards, my feet echoing on the tiled floor.
Sherlock looks out at it all one more time before turning and going to collect bags.

I wander around the space, taking in the old interior and quirky features to the rooms. The air is a little heavy and fusty to breathe, but I can imagine I'll get used to it after an hour or two. Mycroft was very strict on our boundaries and how far we're allowed to go from the building. I know Sherlock won't listen though, Mycroft knows that too.
We can't use our mobile phones unless Mycroft texts us. If we use them for anything else, we both know they'll be tracked.

He brings in the bags and takes them upstairs. I pull my eyes from the dining room and run up the stairs behind him until I am by his side.
He stops at the top and looks both ways down the corridor, remembering which rooms are situated where. He then continues forward and opens the door in front of us.

An old four-poster bed sits proudly in the corner and a dressing table next to it. There's a patterned divan in front of the window that overlooks the unruly back-garden that has now merged into the forest. I run my hands over the intricately carved furniture, speechless.
Sherlock places the bags on the bed and watches me.
I continue to the wardrobe and I pull the doors open to reveal suits, dresses and other stunning garments. I hear Sherlock walk forwards and stop behind me, looking at the clothes. "Mycroft's been on a shopping trip." He mumbles, almost disappointed at his brothers generosity.
"And I thought we would be staying in some dingy hotel room for three weeks."
"Instead, we've got the whole of the dingy hotel."
**
(LATER)
(MOLLY'S POV)