The Soldier and Consulting Detective

Where is the phone?

Hazel's POV

"Told you."

Mr. Holmes looked over my shoulder at the computer screen in disbelief.

"Read through it again." He ordered, and made his way towards the sofa.

I glanced at him from the top of the screen and saw him lying down with his hands in a prayer position, and scoffed. "No. It doesn't matter how many times we read through it, it will still have cigar ash listed twice."

Mr. Holmes didn't bother to glance my way. "Do. It. Again." His same response was used with more force this time.

I slammed the computer shut and stood. "We have been through it twice already. You may think that trying to intimidate me will get me to do whatever you want, but it won't. I've dealt with more intimidating people than you, Mr. Holmes."

He finally glanced at me as I started to walk to his kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"Making tea. I haven't had any yet." I replied while raiding his cupboards. I proceeded to get some milk from his refrigerator when I stopped.

"Is there a reason a head is in your fridge?"

Almost immediately, Mr. Holmes called out "Its for an experiment."

Interesting. I closed the door to the fridge and walked out. "You're out of milk, by the way."

I stood above my host, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. I then noticed more details on his physical features and compared them to Mycroft's. While the older Holmes had pointed nose and softer feature, the younger's was sharper. What stood out the most were his cheekbones. They were so sharp, I could cut myself simply grazing them with my hand. His unruly dark brown hair swept above his beautifully crafted eyebrows. I cleared my throat before speaking to him, trying to shake out those sentimental thoughts. "I take it that you normally have three nicotine patches on since you've stopped abusing, yes?" It wasn't necessarily something that I didn't already know, I was just seeking confirmation.

His eyes shot open, revealing those enchanting blue green colors.

"Is there a reason you are asking so many questions?"

I let out a chuckle and shook my head. "Just curious how Mycroft's little brother functions, that's all." With that, I turned and faced the fireplace. I noticed a stack of letters held together by a small knife on the mantel. I decided to be nosy and removed the knife to read the letters, my back facing the younger Holmes.

"How do you know Mycroft?" He inquired.

I smirked and proceeded to open the first letter. "Ah, that's classified. I can tell you that he did not send me to spy on you." I read the first letter and chuckled to myself.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes,

My name is Aiden Jones and I need your help. My sister has recently died and it had been declared a drug overdose. However, I don't think it is a simple O.D. My sister, Isabel, had many enemies( such as her boss, her coworkers, kids, their parents, etc.) but she was not on any drugs at all. She was a high school teacher, although she was considered one of the rudest. Apparently, she --

"I would prefer if you didn't go through my letters." I looked behind me to see that he was still lying on the sofa.

"I take it these are your unsolved cases then?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow.

His silence confirmed my question. Of course I knew who killed the teacher: the mother. She was annoyed at how her daughter wouldn't support her and give her money for drugs. Would've gotten away with it if I wasn't working on the case. I found the murder weapon on her: used heroin laced tea to cause the overdose, but left a needle in the victim's hand when she died. No wonder he didn't solve it, it was too simple.