A/N - A WILD UPDATE APPEARED!
Apologies to many of you who have been waiting longer than I said. Sometimes life just gets in the way.
Between trying to focus on mocks and revision for my real exams and Corona then messing up those plans and just being told to go home from school and now realising I'm going to miss out on 3 more months with some of the bestest friends I've ever made...
It's a lot. And I'm sure most, if not all, of you can relate to that (and if not fully then at least to some extent!).
Turns out I'm a very sociable introvert so love that for me 😂
But yeah, if you guys need to talk/rant about anything that's going on during "Corona Time", I'm here to listen. 😊
But without further adooo...
The next chapter!
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Elizabeth sat on the fancy cream couch opposite Sherlock, her head resting on her hand as she glared at the detective. He stared at her with an unphased look but honestly, the staring competition was getting silly now.
"What's wro - "
"I can't believe you threw my clothes out of the window." Unimpressed, her glare continued to burn through him.
He rolled his eyes, "Well, it's not my fault they A - picked clothes for you that were a similar colour to mine and B - didn't give me the right set of clothes."
"But why didn't you check!?"
"Too much effort. Clothes are overrated anyway."
"Forgodsake, Sherlock, we're in fu - flipping Buckingham Palace and I'M IN MY NIGHTY AND YOU'RE IN A BEDSHEET!" She had gestured to the hall they were in, herself and then to him.
Both had an equally serious look on their faces before a smile teased on both their lips. The smile gradually developed into chuckling between the two and Elizabeth lay back, still laughing, as she rubbed her hands over her face, attempting to wipe away the sleep that caused this surreal reality.
It was at this point that John arrived in the room silently, looking between the two who immediately ceased their laughter. Sherlock looked across at John, calm as could be, while Elizabeth bit her thumb, desperately trying to hold back her laughter. John gestured at the ornate hall as though exclaiming, speechlessly, 'what the hell', to which Sherlock just didn't respond to and instead looked over to Elizabeth with a smirk before letting it dissipate again. With a nod, John took a seat by his friend.
Even John let loose a little laughter in pure disbelief of the situation as he looked from Elizabeth to Sherlock. It dawned on him then that his friend was still wearing his bedsheet and apparently only his bedsheet from the quick glance he had at Sherlock's lower area which was dutifully covered by the sheet. Elizabeth smirked and shook her head at seeing this one-sided exchange. The soldier then kept his gaze strictly ahead, biting back a smirk of his own.
"Are you wearing any pants?" John asked.
"No."
"Okay." John's gaze met with Elizabeth, another silent smile was shared between them.
Simultaneously, the two men looked at each other and this time the three of them couldn't hold back their fits of laughter at the situation.
"And you," John struggled to speak to Elizabeth between giggles, "You're in your pyjamas too - in Buckingham Palace!"
Elizabeth nodded, hysterical, "Blame him," She gestured to Sherlock, "He threw my clothes out the car window!"
"Out of the car window?" John was bewildered as he giggled like a two-year old.
"Yes!"
The three chuckled and chuckled before eventually calming down. John composed himself as best he could, Sherlock fought to keep his more serious expression, and Elizabeth wiped the tears of amusement from her eyes. Quiet eventually settled over the room again which was quickly broken.
"Oh, I'm seriously fighting the impulse to steal an ashtray." Snickers left their lips again as John stated this, "What are we doing here, Sherlock? Seriously, what?"
Smiling straight ahead at Elizabeth, he replied, "I don't know."
"Here to see the Queen?"
As John sarcastically asked this, Mycroft appeared in the other wide entrance to the room.
Sherlock raised his eyebrows as he answered, "Oh, apparently yes," Causing them all to burst out into fits of giggles once again.
Mycroft gazed at them all, unimpressed with their childish behaviour. They were in Buckingham Palace for goodness sake, surely they could have a bit more respect? If the Queen were here now, Mycroft knew she would definitely not be amused by this childish show.
"Just once, can you two behave like grown-ups," He aimed this at the men, then looked to Elizabeth, "And I expected better of you considering you are still on thin ice, Miss Parrish."
John retaliated humorously yet calmly, "We solve crimes, I blog about it, she loses her clothes and he forgets his pants, so I wouldn't hold out too much hope."
Sherlock whipped his head up to look at his brother, all light gone, replaced by his original stoic expression, "I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft."
"What the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report. Bit obvious surely?"
"Transparent."
At announcing this, both John and Elizabeth looked from each other to the detective in pure bewilderment. Surely, surely, he couldn't have worked it out so quickly. And if he knew what happened, then why hadn't he told them yet?
"Time to move on then." Mycroft stated bluntly, moving to the coffee table to pick up Sherlock's pile of clothes, then narrowed his eyes at the younger, "We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on."
"What for?" He shrugged nonchalantly.
"Your client."
"And my client is?" This time the detective stood up to look his brother right in the eyes.
"Illustrious...in the extreme." Their attention was drawn away by the impeccable-looking man who strolled into the room, "And remaining - I have to inform you - entirely anonymous."
John got up when he saw the other man and out of politeness, so did Elizabeth. It was right to stand up to greet him, right? Did they need to curtsey? Elizabeth didn't really keep too up-to-date with the royal family. They just didn't faze her really.
The man saw the older Holmes brother and held his hand out as a greeting, "Mycroft!"
The older Holmes shook his hand politely, "Harry!" The two higher authorities in the room faced the other three, "May I just apologise for the state of my little brother."
"Full time occupation I imagine."
Elizabeth smirked at Sherlock when she heard this statement but the detective seemed irritated as he rolled his eyes and glared back at his brother and Harry.
"And this must be Doctor John Watson, formerly of the fifth northumberland fusiliers." Harry greeted John formerly.
"Hello. Yes."
"My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog."
"Your employer?" John was intrigued.
"Particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminium crutch."
"Thank you." John threw a look back to Sherlock as if to say 'see, my blog is better'.
Harry then turned to the thief, "And I believe you are the infamous Miss Elizabeth Parrish, thief extraordinaire?"
Wide-eyed at his statement, her eyes darted between the two men begging for help, "I - uh - "
"Mycroft has given me all the necessary warnings, Miss Parrish. As long as you are not tempted by any object you see here, then I'm sure we will get along fine. But I have come to the understanding that you are now working for Mycroft now so, not to worry, eh?"
"I - I am?" She frowned, still facing the posh man before her but her eyes now darted to Mycroft.
The bloggers questioned this new revelation also, "She is?"
"Yes. She is." Came Mycroft's certain answer.
Harry nodded with a relaxed smile as he looked to Sherlock, "And finally, Mr Holmes the younger. You look taller in your photographs."
"I take the precaution of a good coat and short friend." With that he turned and walked up to his brother, "Mycroft, I don't do anonymous clients. I'm used to mystery at one end of my cases. Both ends is too much work. Good morning." And then he turned to walk away and out of the room.
However, this never did happen the way he would have liked. Just before he got to the grand, open doorway, Mycroft promptly stepped on the train of his white sheet. Quick as a flash, Sherlock gripped the sheet around his body before he lost all of his dignity, and he stood there, knuckles white as the sheet he was grasping, teeth gritted with the boiling anger he felt rising in him at this embarrassment.
Elizabeth's brow raised as she saw the sheet began to run down Sherlock's very much unclothed body. Not that she was complaining about the sight though. But this was Buckingham Palace. Never let it be said that they didn't pick the best places for sibling quarrels. She silently watched alongside Harry.
"This is a matter of national importance, grow up." Mycroft hissed.
"Get off my sheet." He growled.
"Or what?"
"Or I'll just walk away."
"I'll let you."
John interjected, "Boys. Please, not here."
"Who. Is. My. Client?" The detective practically snarled, his fire fuelled by humiliation.
"Take a look at where you're standing and make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now, for God's sake...put your clothes on!"
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A/N - Stay Safe, Stay Home, Protect Yourself & Others ❤