Believe in Me || Sherlock

Believe in Me- Chapter 47: Don't Be Smart

Flora went to work later the next morning leaving Sherlock on his own with his brother. They were sitting opposite each other and because they were children on the inside, they were playing Operation while discussing business.

"All very interesting, Sherlock, but the terror alert has been raised to Critical," Mycroft told him.

Sherlock sat back and then locked eyes with his brother. "Boring. Your move."

"We have solid information. An attack is coming," he glanced how to make a move.

"'Solid information,'" Sherlock scoffed. "A secret terrorist organisation's planning an attack- that's what secret terrorist organisations do, isn't it? It's their version of golf."

"An agent gave his life to tell us that."

"Oh, well, perhaps he shouldn't have done. He was obviously just trying to show off."

Mycroft tried to hold back an annoyed sigh. "None of these markers of yours is behaving in any way suspiciously?" He made a move and then looked up. "Your move."

"No, Mycroft," Sherlock replied. "But you have to trust me. I'll find the answer. It'll be in an odd phrase in an online blog, or an unexpected trip to the countryside, or a misplaced Lonely Hearts ad." He glanced down briefly before speaking. "Your move."

Mycroft glanced down too then raised his eyes to Sherlock's gaze. "I've given the Prime Minister my personal assurance you're on the case."

"I am on the case," Sherlock said. "We're both on the case. Look at us right now."

There was a sudden buzz and flashing red light from the game.

"Oh bugger!" Mycroft growled and then angrily dropping the tweezers.

Sherlock looked closely at the piece that Mycroft had failed to retrieve. "Can't handle a broken heart," he said. "How very telling." He sat back in his chair, looking smug and crossing his legs.

"Don't be smart."

"That takes me back," Sherlock then decided to take the mic and said in a little boy's voice: "Don't be smart, Sherlock. I'm the smart one."

Mycroft glowered at his brother. "I am the smart one," he insisted darkly.

"I used to think I was an idiot."

"Both of us thought you were an idiot, Sherlock. We had nothing else to go on, until we met other children."

"Oh yes. That was a mistake."

"Ghastly, what were they thinking of?"

"Probably something about trying to make friends."

"Oh yes, friends," Mycroft smiled. "Of course, you go in for that sort of thing now."

The defective looked at him closely. "And you don't... Ever?"

"If you seem slow to me, Sherlock, can you imagine what real people are like? I'm living in a world of goldfish."

Sherlock steepled his hands in front of him. "Yes, but I've been away for two years?"

"So?"

He shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I thought perhaps you might have found yourself a... Goldfish."

Mycroft looked appalled. "Change the subject, now!" He stood up and moved over to the fireplace.

"Rest assured, Mycroft," Sherlock said. "Whatever this underground network of yours is up to, the secret will reside in something seemingly insignificant or bizarre."

Then Mrs Hudson came into the living room,carrying a try of tea related things. "Ooh-ooh!" She cried merrily.

"Speaking of which..." Mycroft murmured making Sherlock give a small smile.

The landlady placed the tray on the table and she seemed very happy about Sherlock's return. The previous day, he had seemed like a ghost to Mrs Hudson. She screamed at the sight of him and thought she was seeing ghosts. Of course, that had ended up in Sherlock explaining, briefly, what had really happened.

"I can't believe it," she sighed happily. "I just can't believe it! Him- sitting in his chair again!" Mrs Hudson then turned to Mycroft. "Oh, isn't it wonderful, Mr Holmes?"

"I can barely contain myself," he replied with a sarcastic tone and smile.

"Oh, he really can, you know," Sherlock pointed out.

"He's secretly pleased to see you," Mrs Hudson said. "Underneath all that..."

"Sorry," Mycroft looked slightly confused. "Which of us?"

"Both of you," she responded and then leaving the room.

"Let's play something different," Sherlock announced.

Mycroft gave an exasperated sigh. "Why are we playing games?"

"Well, London's terror alert has been raised to Critical," he flung his legs over the table in front if him and stood up. "I'm just passing the time. Let's do deductions."

For the next half an hour or so, the Holmes brothers deduced a bobble hat that had been left by one of Sherlock's clients. Icelandic sheep wool, apparently. Mycroft had left soon after to 'go to work,' but Sherlock thought he would probably be dieting. Which meant exercising. That was the opposite of what he really thought. Eating cake seemed more likely. After Mycroft had gone, Sherlock had decided to lay down on the sofa and go to his Mind Palace for the rest of the day. Somewhere where it was peaceful and no interruptions...

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R.I.P to the legend that is Robin Williams. God bless that man... <3