Out of Sight

by ink_bleed

Summary:

Moriarty is your boss. After he helped you out of a precarious situation when you were still a minor, you started working for him. Now, he has a new job for you. Get close to the Holmes brothers to keep an eye on them for him.

Notes:

This is a result of me getting my Sherlock (BBC) obsession back.

Chapter 1

Jim Moriarty is a tricky man to work for, yet you do. After meeting you while you were a seventeen year old that had gotten involved with the wrong crowd, he had seen potential in you. So, after some training from his right hand man, Sebastian Moran, you became one of his best. He even gave you a nickname, Spike, after your personality. When you initially started working for him, you were quite spunky and talked back whenever you felt like it. Now that you’re older and have worked in his organisation for a couple of years, you’ve mellowed out a bit when it comes to business and listening to Jim. Now, you’re a ruthless assassin that will do whatever you’re told to by a certain Irishman in the blink of an eye.
Currently, you’re on your way to his estate out of town. The sleek car that picked you up is quite lavish, something you’d somewhat grown used to as he tends to enjoy showing off. You watch the trees flash by you as the car speeds up while music plays through your earbuds. It had been a while since you last were at the estate, as you’d been out of the country for business the past couple of months. The car eventually comes to a halt and you quietly get out.

‘My dearest Spike,’ Jim smiles when you step into his office, ‘it has been a while hasn’t it?’ ‘It has, sir.’ You smile back at him. ‘Business in Hong Kong has been settled without too much issue.’ You glance at Sebastian entering the room. ‘The target has been eliminated and you are now in control of the biggest criminal network.’ Moriarty’s smile turns into a grin. ‘That is wonderful to hear, I didn’t expect any less from you.’ His face suddenly becomes serious again and he turns to Moran. ‘Sebastian, do you have the files I requested?’ The other man only nods before putting the files onto the desk. ‘Good, good.’ He starts looking through before his eyes turn to you once again. ‘Spikey dear, come here. I want you to look through these documents and photographs today, I have a new assignment for you.’ You approach the table and file which is filled to the brim. There’s mostly pictures of and reports about consulting detective Sherlock Holmes. Jim walks around the desk and stands next to you on your right, while Sebastian is already on your left. ‘I want you to get close to Sherlock Holmes and his Brother, Mycroft.’ He points out a picture of the two of them. ‘Keep and eye on them for me. Gather as much information as you possibly can, I do not care how, as long as you don’t reveal your identity.’ Turning to him, you finally look the shorter man  in the eye. ‘Of course sir.’ Sebastian shoves another file into your hands before he starts talking. ‘We’ve arranged for a new identity so you’ll be able to fly under the radar. Name: Charlie Moore, age: 27, occupation: intelligence analyst at Scotland Yard. Any other information you may deem necessary can be found in this file. You’ll move into 221C Baker Street tomorrow morning. We’ve already arranged for you to be able to stay there.’
That night you spent looking through the files that were given to you. Sherlock and Mycroft both seem quite interesting in their own rights. Sherlock is a high functioning sociopath that seems to get a thrill out of showing off his intellect and skills to others. His skill is quite incredible, but nothing you hadn’t seen from Jim before. Besides, deduction is a skill a person is able to learn, quite easily in fact. You’d been taught by Sebastian when you first joined Moriarty’s organisation, though your skills have been sharpened over time, with some help from the Irishman himself when he thought you could do better. Now, you rival Sherlock’s speed and skill when it comes to deduction. Still, you understand why your boss is such a fan, that is what he calls it anyway. You think it’s more of an obsession. Contrary to his brother, Mycroft doesn’t seem to enjoy showing off as obviously as Sherlock does, yet he does enjoy flexing his power from time to time. The files you possess show how Sherlock’s newest acquaintance had been picked up by the man’s secretary multiple times and driven to an ominous location so he could talk to John. Supposedly, he offers money to those that get close to his brother, so you’d be keeping that in mind. It does become clear, however, that Mycroft didn’t just hold a minor position within the British government. Clearly he, like your boss, constantly keeps an eye on the consulting detective.

The following morning you arrive at Baker Street using a cab, so as to not have any suspicions arise. You have two suitcases, mostly holding clothes, books, and other essentials. Your larger weapons have already been delivered to and hidden in your new flat, so you don’t have to worry about those. After knocking on the door, you’re greeted by Mrs. Hudson, your new landlady. ‘Good morning dear, you must be the new tenant.’ She smiles brightly. ‘Yes, very nice to meet you Mrs Hudson.’ You smile back and stick out your hand for her to shake it. She does so before letting you in.
Before she leaves you be in the flat, to which some basic furniture had already been delivered, courtesy of Jim, she warns you about your upstairs neighbours. ‘I do hope you’ve read the warning about the noise carefully dear. Sherlock can be quite a lot with his antics.’ Despite not being too worried about the noise, having had to deal with plenty of situations which were significantly worse than a single man could accomplish, you make sure to assure her you’ll be fine. ‘Yes, of course Mrs Hudson. Noise does not tend to bother me very much and I’ll be away for work during the day, so I suppose I should be fine.’ You smile at her again before closing your door and starting to unpack. It is Sunday morning, so you want to try and unpack most of your things before the start of the workweek, tomorrow is your first day at Scotland Yard after all. Before you start unpacking though, you put in your earbuds and put on Radiohead’s album In Rainbows.

The day went by without much issue, or noise from the upstairs neighbours. Probably because Sherlock was on a case, as your employer had let you know. During that time, you’d hidden the last of your weapons in places which aren't deductible and gotten your image in check. Your persona was quite a boring one to be fair, and while there’s always a hint of truth in them to make it believable, your own life has a lot more excitement and risk. Still, that is something you have to intentionally hide from the brothers and their acquaintances. Looking at your watch, you decide it’s time to go to the shops, as you’d be likely to arrive once Sherlock’s already back and you’d have a reason to introduce yourself. ‘Bye Mrs Hudson. I’ll be back in a few.’ You close the door behind you and head out.
When you return with a bag of groceries, you’re met by two men standing at the door. You immediately recognise them as Sherlock Holmes and Dr John Watson. ‘Excuse me, could you please step aside so I can get to my flat?’ You deliberately make your voice softer and quieter than it usually is as to come across as somewhat shy. The doctor steps aside without much hesitation while the detective just turns around and starts trying to deduce you. ‘You must be the new tenant. Nice to meet you, I’m John Watson.’ The short man smiles at you. You shake his hand before introducing yourself and turning to the taller man, though he isn’t much taller than you. ‘Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective.’ He looks you over once again. ‘You’re in the police force but no officer, your nails are too clean for that. You’re dressed as if you have a new job despite it being a Sunday, you’ve only brought clothes you wear to work, which means you don’t go out much or meet people in your free time. You prefer listening to music and reading books to social interactions.’ You feign surprise but are glad, those were all the markers you’d set for him to read. He turns around and heads up the stairs to 221B. ‘I’ll see you at Scotland Yard tomorrow.’ John quickly turns to you and apologises for his friend’s behaviour before following him up the stairs.

 

He’s certainly a character. Didn’t notice a thing though. -S

 

I told you so, and that’s why I wanted you to do this. -JM

 

I’ll keep you updated. -S

Chapter 2

The following morning you woke up early and got the tube to Scotland Yard, where you were introduced to Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade and his team. ‘This is Charlie Moore, they’ve been transferred from our department in Manchester to assist us with the rise in murders that seem to be connected.’ He looks at you and urges you to introduce yourself. ‘Ah yes of course. I’m Charlie, as DI Lestrade just said. I’m originally from Sussex but moved to Manchester for university and work. I look forward to working with all of you here in London.’ You flash them a small smile and stand up a little straighter. Anderson immediately approaches you, Donnovan following closely behind. ‘Nice to meet you Charlie. I hope you’ll help us solve more of our own cases.’ The woman laughs at the man’s comment. ‘That’s why I’m here, yes.’ You’re already annoyed, there really wasn’t much going on in their heads. It is also clear that their affair is very much still going on. ‘Just a warning, Sherlock Holmes likes to come to our crime scenes and interrupt or take the case for himself. I recommend you stay away from him, he’s a bit of a freak.’ You take a sip of your coffee. ‘I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.’ The urge to make a snarky comment or deduce them on the spot was strong, yet you know you have to be nice, for now. You’re quiet as they start talking to each other and eventually you turn to leave and sit at your desk. Since it’s your first day, most of it is spent making sure all the ICT works, having your work phone and laptop set up and ready for you. About halfway through, you see Sherlock barging into Lestrade’s office. Of course, John follows behind. There’s some hand waving and what looks like a passionate speech from Sherlock about a case. Strategically, you decide it’s time for another cup of coffee. You straighten your shirt but leave your suit jacket draped over your chair.
When Sherlock and John leave the office after a good few minutes of the DI and sociopath arguing, the doctor notices you. ‘Hi Charlie, how’s it going?’ Scanning over his form, you notice he’ll be going on a date tonight. ‘I’m well, thanks. How’s the case getting along?’ Sherlock interjects himself and answers before his friend can. ‘It’s going well. From the evidence it is quite easy to dissect that the uncle is the one that killed his nephew. Probably something to do with the inheritance of a relative. He tried to make it look like an accident though.’ You nod. It had been clear to you that that was the case when you first saw the pictures of the crime scene. ‘Quite a boring case for you then, is it not?’ John looks at you confused while Sherlock takes the opportunity to go on a tangent about which cases are interesting and which aren’t. To be fair, it is quite amusing seeing him talk so passionately. ‘Yes quite. These sort of cases are soooooooo normal nowadays, it’s almost expected to be some sort of familial issue when there’s a singular murder that doesn’t seem to be related to anything.’ John looks uncomfortable. ‘I suppose it’s only normal for that to be the case, Sherlock. Looking at the statistics most murders involve a family member or friend, they’re rarely ever random.’ You comment. ‘I know.’ He groans. ‘Well, it was nice talking to you two, I have to get back to work though.’ You see Donnovan and Anderson look at you weirdly from the corner of your eye. ‘I’ll see you two later.’ John offers you an understanding smile while Sherlock just continues talking to the other man without saying goodbye to you. It’s what you had expected, you will have to slowly have him get accustomed to your presence in his life for him to properly acknowledge you, but you know that he has noticed you and finds you somewhat interesting. From your desk, you see John eventually drags Sherlock outside and into a cab. Probably so the detective finally goes and has some food.  Quickly you get back to work.

You decided it’d be best if you stayed for a bit of overtime so you could actually make a start at your job. Due to having to wait for clearance for some things and for all the computer systems to work, you hadn’t been able to do much early in the day. Around half past seven you decide it’s time to leave. Putting on your black trenchcoat, you walk out with your briefcase in hand. As you start walking to the tube station, you see a sleek black car pull up next to you. ‘Charlie Moore.’ The window at the front seat has been opened a little bit. ‘There’s someone that wishes to talk to you, would you please get into the car?’ You nod, turn on your heel and enter the car. While you had predicted for Mycroft to approach you, this was sooner than you had expected. It excites you, but you don’t show it.
You’re driven to an empty shipyard, where you’re instructed to get out of the car. A few metres from the car, you see a man holding an umbrella at his side. ‘Good evening sir.’ You greet him as you approach. ‘Good evening.’ He holds out his hand for you to shake it, and you do. His grip is firm, but not too firm. ‘Charlie Moore. But you already knew that of course.’ A faint smile creeps onto his face. ‘Now, how can I help you?’ Your inquiry seems to surprise him a bit as you retract your hand from his. ‘I noticed you moved in below the famed Sherlock Holmes.’ The way the man pronounced famed sounded quite sarcastic. ‘I barely know him, I only moved in yesterday.’ His eyes meet yours. They have a light bluish hue to them. He holds your gaze for longer than you’d predicted. Good, I’ve got his attention . ‘Yet you can still help me.’ He pauses momentarily. ‘See, I’m an interested party,’ everything seems to be going according to plan, ‘that is willing to pay a considerable sum of money on a regular basis in exchange of information.’ Running your hand through your hair, you act as if you’re thinking about it carefully. ‘And why, if I may ask, are you so interested in mister Holmes?’ Your demeanour stays professional and calculated as the conversation continues. He’s already met John and the possibility of him seeing you in or around Baker street is quite significant, so you’re hoping he reveals his own identity. Things will be easier that way. ‘I may be more inclined to help you if I know who I’m dealing with.’ He looks to be thinking, but you know he’s already made up his mind. ‘I’m Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock’s brother.’ His voice holds some disdain. You arch an eyebrow, clearly he doesn’t tend to deal with emotions. ‘Alright, I’ll keep an eye on him, here’s my card.’ You grab one of the cards Jim had Seb make for you and your new persona. ‘How often do you suppose would be optimal for us to meet?’ He glances at his assistant. ‘I think biweekly will suffice.’ You nod and shake his hand. ‘I shall keep that in mind. Feel free to phone or text me about our next appointment.’ 

As you walk back to the car you only think one thing: The game is on.

Chapter 3

That evening you get home quite late, so you decide to text Jim a short update before immediately heading to bed. 

Everything’s going according to plan, Mr British government has already approached me. Both Holmes brothers are very much interested but do not suspect me in the slightest. -S

Wonderful. -JM

You slept for a couple of hours before waking up around five in the morning. Getting out quietly, you stretch your limbs before getting out your running gear. You put in your earbuds and turn on the music before heading out. The streets are quiet and there’s the faintest bit of rain falling from the sky. ‘Of course it’s raining.’ You whisper to yourself as you start your run. The route you’re running is about fifteen kilometres (just over 9 miles) through the streets and some nearby parks. Despite what some others may do, you have the intention of keeping up with your stamina and physical fitness. A morning run is the first step to that, and later this week you will be looking into places where you could possibly keep up with your fighting skills, preferably MMA.
When you turn a corner in the park, you’re greeted by Sebastian’s face. He starts running with you as you continue. ‘Good morning to you.’ You slow your pace a bit so he can catch up. ‘What are you doing here Seb?’ Sebastian has, over the years, become a bit of a brotherly figure in your life. While you know it is not advantageous to care, you do care for him in a way. ‘Just checking whether you’ve settled down a bit. London’s a big city and while I know you’re used to it quite a bit, I just wanted to check.’ He smiles widely. ‘You’re taking quite a risk, mister.’ Turning serious, you stop in your tracks. ‘Does Jim know you’re here?’ He nods. ‘Of course, I wouldn’t do this if he didn’t think it were alright.’ This brings some relief. ‘Okay, good. I just wanted to check. We shouldn’t be taking too many risks.’ The two of you continue running together for a few kilometres before he tells you goodbye. ‘I’ll keep in touch, Jim gave me the number of your burner phone.’

When you get back to Baker Street, you hop into the shower before getting dressed for work. You just grab a granola bar, your briefcase, and leave to go to your work. The ride on the tube is quiet and you notice nothing out of the ordinary. 
‘Good morning Charlie.’ You’re greeted by Sally Donnovan. ‘Morning Sallie, had a good night yesterday?’ She’d been flirting with Anderson all day and they’d left work together. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Turning away, you ignore her blushing bashfully at your comments and pour yourself a cup of coffee. ‘Sure thing.’ You whisper. ‘So how’s London treating you?’ She’s obviously trying to change the subject, and you decide to go with it to make things easier. ‘It’s been good, though I haven’t seen much of the city yet. I arrived this past Sunday and worked most of yesterday. Went on a run this morning though, and the parks around here seem to be very nice.’ You smile at her before sipping your coffee. Greg walks up and joins the conversation. ‘You went on a run? This morning?’ You see him glance at the clock. It’s just before eight o’clock. ‘I did.’ They both seem quite shocked. ‘What time did you wake up?’ Sally asked, her voice making her shock quite obvious. ‘Around five.’ If it had been possible, their eyes would’ve become the size of saucers. ‘That early? Charlie, are you mad?’ Greg’s voice has a tone you haven’t heard much before, was it concern? ‘I’m not? I just wanted to go on a run and due to work that was the most convenient time to do so.’ They glance at each other briefly before Sally speaks again. ‘I suppose you are correct about that. Didn’t expect you to be such a morning person.’ She tries to sound cheery, but it’s obviously fake. ‘You aren’t?’ You look poignantly at her over your mug. ‘No, I’m not. I’m more of a night owl myself.’ Her smile looks a bit sheepish.
All the mindless chatter annoys you to no end, but you know it’s required to participate in order to blend in. Hopefully the Holmes brothers will make up for it, though you assume for that to be the case when Jim’s assigned you to it. When you get back to your desk, you quickly send him a text from your burner phone.

This better get interesting quickly, these people at SY are boring me out of my mind. -S

It takes a while, but he does reply.

Oh it will, don’t worry. Just be patient. -JM

The rest of the morning runs smoothly. There’s been a homicide which seems to be linked to another one which was committed just over a month earlier. It isn’t too complex, both seem to be linked to a singular drug cartel which is at war with another one. You happen to know a lot more about the ins and outs of this one, but cannot show your hand to the police just yet. So, you’re carefullie piecing together the evidence they already have, so they can come to the correct conclusion themselves. 
Around lunchtime, you’re approached by Lestrade, asking you to join him, Donnovan, and Anderson for a short walk. So, while a bit reluctantly, you do decide to join them. Throughout the affair, you mostly listen, only engaging in conversation when it seems necessary. Most of it was unimportant nonsense, but you do hear something about Sherlock snooping around at a suicide case. You assume, however, that it probably isn’t a suicide if Sherlock’s involved himself. What is clear to you, though, is that Jim isn’t directly involved. It’s probably one of his many pawns which are spread across the city.

That night when you arrive at your flat you see the light is on and the door is open to 221B. You hear Sherlock constantly talking to John. Something about a painting in a bank and a symbol that they’re trying to find. Deciding that it’s a good time for “bonding” with them, you walk up the stairs and knock on the already opened door.
‘Evening gentlemen,’ John turns to face you and you flash a shy smile, ‘how’s it going?’ His eyes look a bit desperate. Desperate to escape from Sherlock, even if it’s just momentarily. ‘Evening Charlie. Well, I suppose we’re doing fine. Sherlock got a new case today, so that’s always good.’ He doesn’t sound too convinced. You slowly start walking in and see the pictures of a painting that has been spray-painted over. It’s a symbol you’d seen used by smugglers while you were in Hong Kong and China. ‘So, what’s all this?’ Your voice is soft, but does grab the detective’s attention. ‘It’s an ancient Chinese number. Fifteen to be precise.’ He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to one of the many books that are scattered around the flat. ‘And what exactly do you need all these books for?’ You pick up one of the ones that he had discarded on the table and open it. It wasn’t anything special, and you are certain that he’s probably looking in the wrong direction in terms of books. Sure a book should bring the answer, but this novel isn’t going to give him any information. ‘I am looking for information on what the people behind this are trying to convey to the person that finds it.’ A snort escapes you unintentionally. I got that, I’m not a goldfish . ‘Well, based on the two people that have died, it’s probably a message.’ He picks up a book from one of the plastic bins. ‘It probably just tells them that they’ll die soon?’ Making it a question makes you sound uncertain and gives Sherlock the opportunity to tell you what he knows. He likes to show off after all. ‘While that is indeed the case, there’s a lot more behind it-’

Sherlock basically shared all the details he knew about the case with you that evening. Based on what he’s told you, it’s probably some sort of conflict within one of the criminal organisations of Chinese origin that operate in London. Towards the end of the night, you excuse yourself and head outside for a moment, greeting Mrs Hudson on the way. ‘Evening.’ You smile at her. ‘Evening dearie, how’re you doing?’ You tell her that you’re well and ask her about her day. After about five minutes of conversation, you’re finally able to step outside. The air outside is cold but your coat keeps you warm enough. Slipping your hand into your coat pocket, you grab your cigarette case and lighter. This is the one vice you hold onto. In a way, it helps you relax, but you haven’t made it a habit. You take a single one out of the case and light it, taking a drag almost immediately. As you look at the cars that are passing by, you start to disassociate. A message on your phone gets you out of this trance-like state. 

I thought you’d quit smoking Spikey. -JM

 

You chuckle as you take another drag.

 

Let me have my vice. It isn’t a habit anyway. -S

As long as it doesn’t affect your mind, I really don’t care. It might even attract Sherlock’s attention. Ask him about the 400+ kinds of ashes that exist. -JM

I’ll consider it. -S

You put away your phone quickly before the door behind you opens. By the sound of it, it’s Sherlock. You turn your head slightly so you can see him from the corner of your eye. Before he can say anything, you hold up a single cigarette for him to grab. He considers for a moment, but doesn’t grab it. Good, I suppose. He’s being entertained by the case. He’ll probably get bored after this one ends . ‘Didn’t know you smoked.’ He comments, it’s obviously a lie. ‘You definitely knew. You’re Sherlock Holmes.’ He lets out a quiet laugh. ‘Alright, I did know, though the signs were barely there. You aren’t a regular smoker, are you?’ ‘You’re correct about that.’ You muse quietly. ‘You met Mycroft, haven’t you.’ Taking another drag, you nod. ‘I have. Quite dramatic isn’t he?’ The faintest chuckle escapes him, again. He’s starting to like you and your personality, that’s good. A lot easier than you’d expected. ‘He is. Did you take the bribe?’ Ah, so he knows about his brother’s inquiries. ‘I did.’ ‘Good.’ He sounds somewhat happy about your choice. ‘The money is only useful, and he’ll know 95 percent of it already anyway. I suppose those extra five percent help my brother with his nerves.’ You smirk. ‘Didn’t expect you to be so accepting of your brother constantly spying on you.’ ‘I’m not, I’m just used to it.’ After taking one last drag, you throw the remainder of the cigarette onto the pavement and put it out with your foot. ‘Is that so? Well, I suppose I can understand if it’s a sibling. He probably means well.’ He scoffs. ‘I hardly think that’s the case. Mycroft isn’t one to care, he just wants to make sure I’m not a nuisance to him or his work.’ You turn to fully face him. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Sherlock.’ Giving him a wink, you go back inside and to your flat.

Chapter 4

The following morning you woke up at 5 am again and went on another run. This time, Seb wasn’t there to greet you, but you really didn’t mind. After another 15 km run you shower and head to Scotland Yard. The tube, as always, is quite busy at this hour. At your arrival, you’re greeted by Greg, Anderson and Donovan arrive shortly after you do. It’s obvious they’d spent the night together again, but you decide it’s for the better not to comment. You suppose both their partners are away on business trips.
Most of your morning is spent going through files related to the same homicide as the previous day and making some adjustments to your report. All of the evidence is relatively straightforward and logical. Yet you’ve noticed that quite a few people aren’t as capable as you had expected, meaning that it’s unlikely for them to solve the crime without you pushing them in the right direction a bit more. While there are some in the department that are capable to an extent, it is quite telling that Sherlock has to be called in to solve so many cases. As you’re looking through some photographs and other evidence, DI Lestrade approaches your desk looking awfully nervous for some unknown reason. ‘Hey Charlie.’ He greets you. ‘Greg, how may I help you?’ You smile kindly at him. The smile he gives back is quite sheepish. ‘I was wondering if you could check some evidence related to a different case; me and the rest of the team are a bit stuck and it seems you might be able to discern some more information.’ Nodding, you pull up the server which holds all the evidence that’s been collected. ‘Which case?’ You turn to the screen and look for the code he names. It’s a recent case, which only happened about a month ago but there still aren’t any suspects that have been arrested. This particular homicide happened a few streets down from where the victim had last been seen at a pub. Supposedly, the woman had left to go home but never made it there. ‘Is there any camera footage from the pub?’ Greg shakes his head in response. ‘In this day and age? That’s quite remarkable. What was the victim’s name?’ ‘Vanessa McEwan.’ You type the name into the database. ‘About half a year ago she filed for a restraining order against an ex-boyfriend of hers. Despite having petitioned to cancel it only two months after, you should probably look into him. Maybe the toxic ex got back into contact with her, apologised and she forgave him. That doesn’t mean that he’s actually changed though…’ Greg looks at your computer screen intently. ‘I suggest you look into this ex, Thomas Jones, and check the camera footage around the bar. While he may not have been in the bar with her, he may have picked her up with the intent of getting her home safely. At least, that’s probably what she thought when she went with him.’ From the corner of your eye, you see him swallow thickly. You decide to ignore it and not comment. A few moments pass before he thanks you and goes back to his own office.
Before lunch you managed to finish the report on the gang related homicide and started working on the one Lestrade had asked you to look at. When he approaches you again that afternoon, you show him some of the footage of cameras located close to the crime scene. They had clearly been arguing before they went to, supposedly, talk in the alleyway. An alleyway only Thomas had left afterwards. ‘This is great Charlie, you’re an angel for finding this footage.’ He smiles. ‘I suppose you should go catch the man then, he seems to have booked a trip to Ibiza and is set to leave in a few days' time.’ You respond almost too coolly, but he seems to brush it off before calling for Donovan to join him and leaving. 

To be frank, you’re bored. Bored of all the mind numbingly stupid people around you, bored of having to pretend to be similar, bored of sitting around all day and pretending that you haven’t solved the case yourself yet. As the afternoon turns into night, more people start leaving the office, with you sitting at your computer compiling evidence for yet another case. Around seven o’clock, you decide it’s time to head to baker street. The ride on the tube is calm, the music from your earphones drowning out the people around you. You hope that Sherlock will be there when you arrive, though based on how his case was going yesterday, you think it is quite likely that he is visiting a museum to gather more information on what the number fifteen could possibly mean to the people that see it shortly before their death. Looking at his personality and how seemingly easily he manages to solve cases, you understand why Jim is so fascinated by him. He is quite easy to read though, he is more emotional than you had expected and he doesn’t seem to hide who he truly is like you are doing by assuming the persona you are for this particular mission. His brother, on the other hand, clearly is hiding whatever sentiment he has since he sees it as a weakness. Yet his weakness is so glaringly obvious it’s almost comical. He even revealed it the first time you met him, his little brother Sherlock. To you, it seems like quite a poor decision to reveal such a thing so blatantly, but you suppose he believes most people are too much of a goldfish to realise that.
On your way back you decide to get some take-away curry and naan for dinner at an Indian restaurant just around the corner from Baker Street. When you open the front door, you’re met by Mrs Hudson who looks quite startled. ‘Good evening Mrs Hudson.’ She smiles. ‘Hello dearie, did you have a good day at work?’ You nod. ‘Yeah it was good, nothing remarkable going on. I just got some Indian food on the way here though, so that’s exciting.’ She laughs at that. ‘You really have your priorities, don’t you?’ She hits your arm as she continues laughing. ‘Well yes, would you like some? This is far too much for me alone, so if you’d like we can have dinner together.’ Her gaze softens. ‘That would be lovely dearie.’

So, that night, you end up having dinner with Mrs Hudson, who tells you that Sherlock’s gone for the case, taking John with him. She tells you what they’ve been up to all day, complaining about all the noise the detective makes. It’s clear to you, though, that she actually doesn’t mind that much, if she did she would’ve evicted him ages ago. You suppose she likes you too, to an extent. Hopefully it will come in handy in the future. Sherlock has a soft spot for her anyway, so he’s more likely to trust you if she does too. After the two of you finish your dinner, you help her clear the table and do the dishes. ‘Charlie, thank you very much for this evening. It was lovely.’ You smile down at her. ‘It was my pleasure, Mrs Hudson.’
When you finally step into your flat, you put down your work bag and lay down on your bed, staring at the ceiling. This really isn’t the type of mission you’re used to. 

 

He’s out on a case again, probably related to Hong Kong. You should keep an eye on them, wouldn’t want them messing with your new toy. - S

 

A few minutes pass before you get a response.

 

Thanks. I will. -JM

 

---

 

The following days were spent in the same manner. Going for a run, going to work, working, going home, speaking to Mrs Hudson, and going to bed. It’s a repetitive routine and you suppose this is what most people do. You still haven’t seen much of Sherlock, but you supposed it makes sense when he’s on a case. One night, when you arrive home after a long day, you’re met by John who is about to leave. 
‘Oh hi Charlie, it’s been a while.’ You smile and nod  ‘It has indeed.’ He looks to be more dressed up than he usually is. ‘Going on a date?’ ‘I am. How did you know that?’ To be fair, you hadn’t really anticipated that question. ‘Well, usually you go out with Sherlock at night, you know, to solve cases and such. Seeing that he isn’t here with you, I just assumed.’ That wasn’t actually why you assumed, but it is what most people would probably say if they knew John for a long enough time. ‘Well, I won’t hold you up for much longer. Hope you have fun.’ Quietly, you pass him and open the door that had just closed. When you’re about to go in, he puts a hand on your shoulder. ‘Thank you, really.’ He says with a smile when you turn to face him. ‘Of course.’ You smile back before entering the building.
Before you’re able to enter your flat, you hear Sherlock running down the stairs. ‘Charlie,’ he looks around the corner,  ‘you’re right on time. Want to join me for a case?’ This is the opportunity you’d been waiting for. ‘Sure, I don’t see why not.’ You pretend to hesitate. ‘Though, I don’t think I’ll be of much help.’ His face contorts into something you don’t recognise. ‘Don’t fret about such things, John doesn’t tend to add much either. Besides, I think you’d be more of a help when it comes to this, with your job and all.’ When he finishes speaking he’s already halfway out the door. Quickly, you put your work bag inside and lock your flat before following the detective out the door.

You arrive at the circus shortly after John and Sarah, who are talking to the person giving out the tickets. ‘I’ve got two reserved for tonight.’ You hear John say as you approach. ‘What name is it?’ The lady at the ticket counter looks at him curiously. ‘Ehm… Holmes.’ Of course Sherlock has arranged this. Based on where it’s located and the theme of the circus, it’s likely to be related to the case, which John, of course, hadn’t anticipated. ‘Actually, I have four in that name.’ After he accepts the envelope with Sherlock’s name on it, he tells her that there must’ve been an error. ‘He booked two.’ Grabbing this opportunity to hijack John’s date, Sherlock finally approaches them. ‘And then I phoned and got one for me and Charlie as well.’ Sarah finally turns to face the two of you. ‘I’m Sherlock.’ You give her an awkward smile. ‘I’m Charlie.’
Sarah heads to the bathroom shortly after and John starts arguing with Sherlock. ‘You couldn’t let me have one night off?’ He looks at the detective accusingly before glancing at you. ‘I was not involved in the decision making, Sherlock just asked me to join him on a case and I accepted. I didn’t know we’d be crashing your date.’ You hold your hands up in defence. ‘True, I dragged them along.’ He states matter-of-factly. ‘Besides, the Yellow Dragon Circus! One day they’re in London. It fits. The Tong sent an assassin to England…’ He returns to his usual, somewhat excited, self. You’ve noticed he only speaks like this when it’s about a case or John. ‘Dressed up as a tightrope walker! Come on, Sherlock. Behave!’ The smaller man scolds the other. ‘A killer who can climb! Who can shin up a rope! Where else would you find that level of dexterity?’ He continues rambling about the possibilities and you start looking around the room. It’s clear that Sherlock is probably right about the assassin, though they probably also know of him looking into them. In the future he should consider being more careful when it comes to just walking into a place like this.
‘Fine. You go ahead, I’ll take Sarah off for a pint.’ John sounds defeated. ‘I need your help.’ Sherlock states. ‘Look, I do have one or two other things on my mind this evening. Besides, you have Charlie with you. They are perfectly qualified to help you.’ The other man looks confused. ‘Like what?’ Of course, Sherlock’s one and only priority are his cases, there’s no room for trivial things such as romantic entanglements. Not consciously anyway. By the way he chooses to ignore the mention of you, there is reason to suspect there may be some underlying… interest. ‘You are kidding?’ John sounds shocked and annoyed. He really hasn’t gained full comprehension of how Sherlock works. ‘What’s so important?’ ‘Sherlock. I’m in the middle of a date. You want me to accost some killer whilst I’m trying to…’ Obviously Sherlock doesn’t understand at all. ‘What?’ John groans. ‘Whilst I’m trying -’ ‘John, I’ll try to keep Sherlock in check, sorry about all this.’ You grab the detective’s arm and drag him away as Sarah comes out of the toilet. John forces a smile as he turns to her. ‘Ready?’

Chapter 5

The show was interesting to say the least, but you were happy when you finally managed to return to your flat. Keeping Sherlock from constantly over-explaining the acts to Sarah, who only got closer to John as the show continued. At some point Sherlock disappeared backstage, only reappearing by crashing into the auditorium with a warlord on top of him. John shooting out to help him as the audience scattered, you take Sarah out of the room. You’re followed by the two men, not too far behind you. 

On the way to the police station, Sherlock explains what he had been doing behind the scenes. He’d found the yellow paint moments before he’d been attacked by the warlord. He also notes that he had seen a tattoo on the bottom of the foot of one of the performers, with it matching the ones they’d seen on the victims. You mostly just nod and enquire about what the seal looks like. ‘It’s a seal with a lotus of some sort.’ Sherlock had said. Upon your arrival at the nearest police station, you’re met by an officer you haven’t seen before. Sherlock quickly explains to him what happened, noting that you’d been followed out of the venue. The officer puts it into the system before sending you away, saying he isn’t able to do much more at the moment. 

The four of you leave and head back to Baker Street, where John decides you should probably have some food. Not wanting to be a part of John’s date for much longer, you tell them you’re quite tired and before heading downstairs to your own flat. Not too long after, you hear the front door open, you suppose for their food delivery. You turn to your kettle to start boiling some water, but you stop midway through the motion because you hear shuffling and something drop. That’s unusual. You put down the kettle and walk to your door, opening it as quietly as possible. When you look around the corner, you see a man dressed in black quietly shuffling down the stairs with John, who you’re pretty sure is unconscious, thrown over his shoulder. Quickly, you close the door. Had it not been for you having to lay low and you’d have helped him then and there, but you supposed Sherlock would find out soon enough and go look for his companion. You turn on the kettle and message Jim.

You should reel them in, they just kidnapped John and his date. I assume they think he’s Sherlock or something. Will probably have to help SH and intercept. -S

As the water starts to come to a boil, you quickly change in some more comfortable, black clothes. Something that doesn’t look too suspicious given what you usually wear, but will help you manoeuvre around without too making much sound. You also grab one of your (many) guns and put it in one of your somewhat hidden pockets, where it’s easy to reach but hard to find if you don’t know it’s there.
The kettle finally boils and you make yourself a cuppa. Upon taking the first sip, you hear multiple heavy and somewhat frantic knocks at your door. ‘I’m on my way.’ You put down the cup and open the door, where you’re met by the consulting detective himself. He looks quite panicked, which in a way you had expected, just not to this extent, meaning his weakness for John is much bigger than Jim (or Mycroft for that matter) had anticipated. ‘John’s gone. I’m certain that he’s been taken by the murderer and by extension the criminal network we’ve been investigating.’ Nodding, you grab your coat and join him, heading outside as quickly as possible.

‘Sherlock, I suggest you go in and I help from the shadows. You’re an amazing distraction and then I’ll be able to get John and Sarah out from the shadows.’ He nods, agreeing that it’d probably be the best plan of action.
And so, that’s what the two of you do when you go in. John and Sarah are bound to separate chairs with rope about five feet from each other. While John has a gun pointed at him, Sarah is unfortunate enough to have a balasta pointed at her. John does look somewhat worried, Sarah on the other hand looks frightened and like she’s about to lose it. Given that she probably hasn’t been in such a situation, it makes sense, and any sensible human being would probably react like she is. Being the drama-queen he is, Sherlock waltzes in as if he owns the place, ridiculing that they hadn’t realised they had the wrong person entirely. Still, the ballista is slowly getting closer to being fired at the woman.
It’s unclear to you what exactly happens, but one moment Sherlock’s trying to untie Sarah, and the next he’s been caught by some sort of a rope, forcing him away. ‘For god’s sake, he can’t do anything on his own, can he?’ You whisper to yourself before shooting in the shoulder of the man that’s trapping the detective. After which you immediately sprint to the ballista and point it towards one of Shen’s other henchmen, since it’s about to fire. It does so, and pierces the man through his chest. You take the opportunity of the confusion that ensues to run to John and cut the ropes. Sherlock does the same for Sarah. However, when you look up, Shen is gone.

The following day you contact Sebastian while you’re on your run. It isn’t that you see him or anything, you just leave him a codified message for him to find while you’re at the park for your daily run. The response follows in the form of a text message as you’re making your daily morning coffee. 

We dealt with it, you don’t have to worry about them anymore. -SM

You suppose he was the one to “deal with” them last night. 

I’d hope so. It really was a bit of a pain and entirely unnecessary. -S

Rather than getting a text back, he calls you.

‘Hello?’ His voice sounds low, as if he doesn’t want to alarm someone of his presence. ‘ Hi, hope you’re alright.’ ‘Yes, yes, don’t worry about me.’ He pauses before continuing. ‘Jim’s pretty mad about the situation, he’ll probably contact you to apologise at some point soon.’ You sigh. ‘Will he? He isn’t one to apologise generally speaking. No matter, tell him to make sure the camera’s aren’t working wherever we meet up. The eldest Holmes seems to be keeping an eye on me. Probably wants to gauge if I’m trustworthy.’ You take a sip of your coffee before getting out your laptop. It’s one you usually use for purposes related to your actual job. Jim’s had it encrypted so that even the best systems the government uses can’t get into it. ‘I’ll let him know.’ As you’re typing in your password, he speaks up again, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled momentarily. ‘You know I do miss you, you know that right?’ You’re scrolling past a few documents, so you only make a noise that confirms you do. ‘We both miss you. The penthouse feels a bit empty. You were barely back and had to leave again…’ Jim rents a penthouse with enough rooms for all of you to live comfortably while still having your own space. The three of you have always been pretty close, with you and Seb being Jim’s closest confidantes, having been there pretty much from the beginning. And it’s true, you’d barely been back in England and Jim had sent you off, not even being able to stay in the penthouse you’d usually call home. Still, it was mostly you and Seb there, with Jim being at his estate most of the time to take care of business without being bothered too much. ‘I miss you guys too, but we both know it’s necessary.’ ‘You’re right, I’m just being sentimental.’ He sighs. ‘Don’t be, you know it’s a form of weakness.’ That last sentence comes out a bit harsher than you’d hoped, but it is the motto most go by in your profession. ‘We’ll meet again soon, I have to go now.’ You say as you hear someone walking down the steps, probably John based on the sound of it. ‘Yeah, soon Spike.’ He says before ending the call.
When you check for the caller ID, you see that there isn’t one. Not that it really mattered, this isn’t the phone you use to contact anyone you interact with on this mission. You have several phones you keep on you, two of them basically at all times. This one in particular is a blackberry, very much contrary to the iPhone you use on the daily to keep up appearances of you being a regular person that works at the Yard. A knock at your door has you going into action. Quickly, you close and put away your laptop before grabbing your cup of coffee and (somewhat) casually walking to and opening the door. As expected, it’s John. ‘Hello John, good morning.’ He looks up slightly as you open the door, since you’re about an inch and a half taller than him. ‘Good morning Charlie. I wanted to thank you for last night. You really helped us out there.’ You smile at him. ‘No problem at all, you were in a bit of a pickle and I suppose friends help in such situations.’ Friends. It’s a term you hadn’t used with him yet, but you guessed that he probably sees you in that way, so using the term could only strengthen that feeling. ‘Still, it was a lot; quite dangerous as well.’ The look you give him is nothing short of unimpressed. ‘John, I work at Scotland Yard, I’ve been in worse situations. Despite what you might think because of my current role, I’ve had basic training and been out in the field multiple times.’ He looks a bit surprised.
‘Do you want some coffee perhaps? It’s Saturday so I don’t have anywhere to go and I just made a pot.’ You step aside to invite him in. ‘Sure.’ He steps inside and you close the door behind him. You gesture for him to have a seat at your kitchen table. ‘I do hope I didn’t ruin your date with Sarah last night.’ He laughs. ‘Oh you didn’t ruin it. I think we both know Sherlock’s the one that was behind that.’ ‘About that, you are correct. Though maybe I should’ve expected where we were going and stopped him.’ You hand him his cup of coffee and sit down opposite of him. By the sounds of it, he doesn’t sound too worried about the entire situation. ‘So why do you tolerate it, John?’ ‘What do you mean? Tolerate what?’ Surely he knows what you’re talking about but just doesn’t want to admit it immediately. ‘Tolerate Sherlock ruining your dates, taking over your life and social life. All that sort of stuff.’ You make eye contact with him as you glance over your cup. ‘He does not take over my life Charlie.’ He deflects a little bit too quickly. ‘If you say so.’ You take another sip. ‘Well anyway, how is Sarah? Is she doing okay after yesterday evening?’

John stayed for about an hour before heading back upstairs, saying he’d promised the consulting detective to go on a case with him. From your conversation it became clear that John cares for Sherlock as well, though you aren’t certain whether he really knows that himself yet. You didn’t care, but you’re sure Jim will use it to his advantage.
That afternoon you decided you’d probably need to go to the shops again, realising that you didn’t have much food in your pantry. You went out not too long after in order to go get it, but you were stopped by a sleek black car pulling up next to you and stopping. Mycroft.

Chapter 6

Like Jim, Mycroft Holmes is a busy man who doesn’t particularly care to spend his time not working, only tending to make time to deal with family business when absolutely necessary. This was one such occasion, though he didn’t want to alarm his brother. For this reason, he’d approached Charlie, Sherlock’s new neighbour and acquaintance. They seem trustworthy enough, with nothing out of the ordinary coming up during the background check he did on them. What he hadn’t realised before meeting them for the first time, was that they would be able to keep up quite well and for them to not be a goldfish like most people that surrounded his dear brother. Upon their first meeting, they had come off as intelligent and seeming to understand his dealings immediately. Now, he is on his way to meet them again, as something has come up over the past few days that’s actually worth talking about.

---

Anthea gets out of the car and holds the door for you, motioning for you to get in. ‘Good afternoon Charlie. I’ve been asked to escort you.’ Nodding, you get in and thank her. While you’d expected this, knowing what happened the previous evening, you hadn’t fully considered it before stepping out. Still, you’re wearing a black shirt with black trousers, black Doc Martens chelsea boots and a wool overcoat of the same colour, which you suppose is nice enough, though it’s not nearly as impressive as the three piece suits the British government himself tends to wear.
The drive is quiet, as it had been last time. Anthea doesn’t move to talk to you and neither do you move to talk to her. It’s no use, even if you wanted to gather new information by speaking to the assistant, you’re convinced she wouldn’t let anything slip, Mycroft probably had her selected partially based on that ability. Luckily, the drive itself wasn’t too long, only being around twenty minutes. Anthea gets out before you and holds your door for you once again. When you get out, you realise that you’re outside a small patisserie that doesn’t seem to be too busy. ‘Please take a seat at the table that has been reserved for mister Holmes; he will join you shortly.’ She says to you before getting back into the car and telling the driver to head somewhere else.

Stepping inside, you’re met by a warm homey atmosphere. It’s very welcoming and unlike what you would have expected from a meeting with the elder Holmes. You are approached by one of the staff and tell her, a pretty ginger girl that seems to be in her mid twenties, that you would be joining mister Holmes this afternoon. She seems somewhat surprised, but shows you to a table near the back that has a view of the entire shop. After taking off your coat and sitting down, you look around a bit more before glancing at the menu briefly. As per your expectations, it consists mostly of pastries, tarts, and cakes, which can be accompanied by various sorts of teas and coffees. Nothing seems too out of the ordinary for the sort of establishment it is, and based on the staff knowing Mycroft, it seems to be a favourite of his. Having known his younger brother for a short while now, it isn’t out of the realm of your expectation for him to only visit a limited number of establishments because he likes it there and feels comfortable.
Luckily for you, the wait isn’t long or anything, about three minutes. You see him walk in and interact with staff, the manner of which confirms that he is indeed a regular at this particular establishment. Standing up, you greet him and shake his hand. ‘Good afternoon mister Holmes.’ ‘Afternoon Charlie, I’m glad you could make it.’ He smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. It never really does with him, there’s a reason as to why Jim’s nicknamed him the “Iceman”. ‘Well thank you for the invitation, sir. This establishment is quite lovely.’ He sits down opposite of you. ‘Yes of course, I thought it more comfortable to meet in a different setting this time around; and please, do call me Mycroft. If we are to keep up this arrangement and discuss quite intricate details about my dear brother, I suppose it would only be fitting for us to call one another by our first names.’ He waves to the girl from earlier that you’re ready to order after you nod your head, confirming that you’d understood. She approaches and smiles at the two of you in a manner that you aren’t quite familiar with. ‘I’ll have a piece of your Opéra accompanied by a cup of black coffee, please.’ He turns to you, looking expectantly, probably wondering what you’d get. ‘A piece of tarte tatin with a cup of your English Breakfast blend for me, please.’ The waitress miles and writes it down before walking away. ‘Hadn’t expected you to go for tea.’ Mycroft notes. ‘Well, I’ve already had a few cups today, and it doesn’t go particularly well with tarte tatin , so I thought it’d be better for me to have some tea.’ ‘You are correct about that.’ He muses at your response. 

You only start talking about business once your drinks and pastries arrive, not wanting to risk others overhearing. You’re to the point with everything that’s happened up until now, giving him a chronological timeline of the goings on at 221B and answering any questions he has. 
‘So then John was kidnapped and I joined Sherlock in getting him out.’ Recounting what happened the previous night was easy enough. ‘How did you “get him out”, supposing there was this deadly assassin.’ Looking him dead in the eyes, you tell him that you’d used his brother as a decoy and shot the assassin in his shoulder before he could really do anything, then moved the ballista so it wouldn’t hit Sarah. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re a good shot then.’ Mycroft leans back, having already finished his cake and slowly drinking his coffee. ‘I’m alright, pretty average for someone with basic police training, I think.’ Quickly, you turn to ask him a question. ‘Did you manage to find the leader of this trafficking ring? I’m assuming correctly, you’ve been tracking them in the background considering they’ve been involved with a few murders recently.’ He nods. ‘This is strictly confidential, so the only thing I can let slip is that we did find her, but unresponsive. Make of that what you will.’ You widen your eyes slightly, mimicking surprise. Knowing Seb, shot clean between her eyebrows and nothing left to trace the bullet to him. ‘Well alright, thanks for informing me.’ You smile, ‘I won’t ask any more questions about it then.’ He sighs slightly. ‘Well I do appreciate it. Usually Sherlock and his acquaintances tend to ask a lot of unnecessary questions; or at least questions I legally cannot answer.’ ‘I assume you mean John.’ You muse before taking another sip of your tea, finishing the cup. ‘Yes, indeed. He does ask awfully many questions even when the answer is right in front of him.’ He finishes his cup as well. ‘I think Sherlock doesn’t mind, he likes showing off his cleverness.’ ‘That he does indeed. His personal goldfish to impress.’ Mycroft whispers that last part, probably so you wouldn’t hear it. But you do, and you can’t help but smile at the comment. Jim had mentioned something similar about Sherlock and “his little friend”. Though Jim seemed more jealous than anything, while Mycroft just seems annoyed. You assume it’s because Sherlock has started to become more sentimental than he was before, more weak in Mycroft’s opinion. 
Deciding that the conversation has gone on for long enough, you stand up. ‘Well Mycroft, this has been lovely. I do, however, need to run some more errands this afternoon.’ You pull out your wallet and start pulling out the money necessary to pay for your drink and pastry. ‘Charlie, I’m paying.’ Mycroft tries to stop you. ‘I insist.’ You reply. ‘No, please.’ He stands up. ‘I insist, Mycroft.’ He signs and gives in. ‘Alright then. If I cannot stop you, I shall repay you by other means.’ ‘You may certainly try.’ You grin at him before putting down the required money onto the table and turning around. ‘See you in two weeks.’

You did, in fact, run the remaining errands for that day. You did your grocery shopping for the week before also quickly picking up the package of kickboxing and MMA gear you’d ordered since Seb couldn’t get yours to you in time. That evening you would have your first class at a new gym, so you’re hoping it’s at least somewhat successful. You have noticed, over time while training at many different gyms, that it can be a bit hit or miss, but generally the people tend to be quite nice. Over the past week you looked into a few gyms, but not all offered sparring, which is why you ended up at this one. Before heading there, you got dressed in your training clothes and put on some joggers, sneakers and a hoodie over top for the road there, which luckily, isn’t too far.
The gym itself isn’t large by any means, mostly consisting of mats with punching bags lining it and a small section with weights somewhere tucked away in a corner. When you walk in, you’re greeted by a guy with short jet-black hair, wearing kickboxing shorts and a tight shirt. ‘Hello, you must be Charlie.’ He shakes your hand. ‘That’s correct.’ You smile at him. ‘My name’s Noah, nice to meet you. I saw you applied for a trial lesson, do you have any experience with fighting?’ His inquiry is pretty standard for these sorts of classes, especially when it’s your first time at a gym. ‘Yeah, I’ve been training for a couple of years now, but had to get new gear because of an unexpected move.’ He starts walking in and motions you to follow. ‘Well, no worries, everyone needs to get new gear from time to time.’ As you walk past a few doors, he motions at them. ‘We have a few dressing rooms, lockers, and showers here if you want to use them.’ You nod. ‘Thanks, that’s quite useful to know.’ ‘Yeah, though they aren’t used much. Most people prefer to get ready and shower at home.’ He laughs a bit sheepishly. ‘Well, it’s always nice to have the option. I already got ready at home, but I’ll keep it in mind.’ You’re fully led into the gym and Noah introduces you to the group you’ll be training with tonight. ‘Everyone! This is Charlie, they’re new here so please, as always, be respectful.’ You wave at the group of men. ‘Hello Charlie!’ They say in unison, before continuing to get ready for the training. You put your bag on one of the shelves that line the walls and take off your shoes and joggers, leaving you in a pear of loose-fitting shorts and your hoodie. You prefer keeping on your hoodie throughout the warming up, which starts not too long after you finish wrapping your hands.

The training session at the gym went relatively normally. After warming up, you take off your hoodie and put on the rest of your gear before doing some basic combinations using both punches and kicks. It isn’t too bad, as you slowly build up the intensity throughout training. Towards the end, there’s the possibility to do some sparring, though most of the guys seem somewhat reluctant to do so with you as you’re new to the gym. Jay, one of the guys you were paired with most, eventually agrees, based on how you’d performed in the pair exercises. Still, it wouldn’t be too serious since you don’t have too much protective gear, so you agreed not to hit each other in the head.
‘Good luck.’ you both say to each other before giving a fistbump. You do a little hop, but he’s the first one to throw a jab. You’re able to block it with ease before responding with a basic left-right combination, breathing out with each hit. He blocks both punches and responds by giving a jab that’s followed by a right hook. You duck so that he swings over your head. When you get up, you feign an uppercut motion, making him move to the right, and follow by a low kick to his knee. It connects with relative ease and forces him to stumble forward, almost falling. You use this momentum to follow up with a knee to his stomach, though not at full force. Apparently, he hadn’t expected this from you, resulting in him not being able to prepare for the hits. ‘Fuck.’ He whimpers and holds up his glove. ‘Give me a moment Charlie.’ You step back and look at the man that’s quite a bit taller and heavier than you are. ‘Yeah of course.’ From the corner of your eye, you see Noah move to watch the situation a bit more closely. Jay stands up again after a while and signals that he’s ready to continue again. You give him the possibility to throw the first hit again. His moves are pretty predictable, his body showing what punches or kicks he’s about to do next. You answer each and every single one of them with punches and kicks that are about seventy percent of your ability, but they’re still hard to those that aren’t professionals. Eventually, Jay goes for a roundhouse kick with his right, his preferred leg to kick with. You see it coming and block it with your arm before doing another low kick, this time to his left leg, making him fall to the ground. He looks at you in defeat as you stand over him, smirking slightly. You take off your right glove and offer him your hand, which he takes and so you help him up.
‘That was quite impressive.’ Jay seems quite tired, breathing heavily. Noah approaches you not too long after, congratulating you on the win and telling Jay he did well. ‘Nicely done Charlie, your moves were very well calculated. Nice job to you as well Jay, there were a lot of good combinations in there.’ You thank him and start taking off the remainder of your gear. Noah starts helping Jay and makes sure he’s alright after your session. Apparently, it did more of a number on him than you had expected. The other guys had been too busy with their own sparring to see how you did, but still congratulate you on “beating” Jay. ‘Thanks guys, I appreciate it. He was pretty solid generally, but his legwork could be approved upon.’ ‘Yeah that tends to be a bit of his weakness when sparring. Got a solid low kick though.’ You agree and put on your hoodie back on when you’ve undone your handwraps. Jay joins your little gaggle not too long after, smiling sheepishly at you when he’s putting away his things. ‘Hadn’t really expected you to be this good.’ His admission doesn’t surprise you, most people tend to underestimate you a bit. ‘Well, glad I proved you wrong then.’ You look at him and grin. 
You quickly make your way home after thanking everyone for the training session. It hadn’t been extraordinary or anything, but it remains a good way of keeping up your form while undercover. You’d come to an agreement with Noah and got a membership so you could train there whenever, whether that be in a group or on your own during their opening hours.
Opening the door, you’re met by an empty hallway. Considering it is already getting late, you decide to remain quiet and slip into your own apartment. There, you take a shower and put on some comfortable clothes before heating up some food. It isn’t anything special, just some spicy noodles with vegetables on the side. Upon finishing your food, you do the dishes and decide to just head to bed. Despite it being the weekend, you prefer keeping a relatively steady rhythm when it comes to getting a night’s rest. Especially with what your job usually entails, it means that the not so hectic days and nights allow you to regain energy, which you’re fully allowing yourself to do now. After getting into bed, you feel your body relax, releasing the stress of the past week.

Chapter 7

Notes:

Sorry that it's been so long. Life, and mostly university, got in the way. Anyhow, I hope you guys enjoy as the game begins!

You decide to not partake in any form of strenuous physical activity that Sunday, as you were still a bit sore from kickboxing the previous day. Instead, you decide to go on a walk and get breakfast at a local cafe. As you walk, you listen to some music and enjoy a London that’s quiet for once. It seems that most people are still asleep, but you eventually find a spot that’s open and serving fresh coffee and croissants. You walk in and get seated near a window by one of the workers. The worker looks to be in her early twenties and her brown hair has been tied up into a ponytail. After you order a cappuccino and a plain croissant she starts making it almost immediately. As a result, you only have to wait a couple of minutes before she brings you what you ordered. ‘Thank you.’ You smile at her before she walks away again. As she does so, you turn and reach into your coat pocket to grab a pocket sized edition of Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky you’d brought with you. You’d put a bookmark where you had left off, about halfway through the book, so you turn to that page and remove it before starting to read. You hold it in your left hand as you read while holding your cup of coffee in your right. 
Time passes slowly, but you don’t mind. It has been quite a while since you’ve actually been able to relax and read quietly while enjoying the simple things in life such as a cup of coffee. The last time you actually did anything remotely relaxing that wasn’t related to exercise was the time you were in Tokyo for a day as a result of a flight having been cancelled in the early morning. It was quite a nice surprise, as you had been on the road for several months and hadn’t had much of a break from work. Jim had tasked you with quite an important job, mostly consisting of securing deals with or control over certain criminal networks in several countries in Asia. It had gone relatively smoothly, with only one network proving to be difficult; still, it had been a long trip. In spite of it all, you’d decided to go get some souvenirs for Jim and Sebastian before leaving the country. They’d liked them, despite them being quite silly. London is different though, and while Tokyo is amazing in its own right, it does not have the same vibe. There’s a certain charm to the mist and smoke of the city that you enjoy. That it’s where Sebastian and Jim stay most of the time doesn’t hurt its status as favourite either. 

After about an hour of sitting and reading you get up, pay, and leave the cafe. Rather than returning home you decide to wander around, taking random lefts and rights and now following a particular path. Eventually, you walk into one of the parks. Unlike earlier, there’s quite a few people walking around, mostly with their dogs. It’s nice to see them so happy. It distracts you from the boring hours you’ve been spending at Scotland Yard. While you don’t mind it too much, it’s a lot less exciting than the work you usually do. Rather than following people and killing them, or speaking with powerful criminals and forge deals, you’re now stuck behind a desk, working for people that don’t seem to really know what they’re doing. 

A buzz in your pocket pulls you out of your musings. You feel inside your pockets and fish out the correct one of the two you have with you. It’s the phone you use to communicate with Sherlock, Mycroft, Scotland Yard, and basically everyone else that knows you as Charlie. As you’re unlocking it, it buzzes again. Carefully, you read the two texts displayed on your screen. The first one is from Greg, asking you to come to Scotland Yard as soon as possible without stating why. The second is from Mycroft, asking to meet him tonight at 7, with, again, no reason as to why. 
A huff escapes you. ‘So much for a day off.’ You mumble to yourself as you get your headphones out of your other pocket, put them in, and start walking. Mere moments after you’d set off to leave the park another buzz interrupts you, this time from your other phone. You grab it but continue walking.
“ The game is on. -JM” is all the text states, but you know that the boring hours spent at Scotland Yard were over as you hear an explosion in the distance.

---

Upon your arrival at Scotland Yard you are greeted by the sight of Sherlock grabbing a ziplock bag from Greg and John telling him to be more considerate. You approach them silently, greeting Greg and John with a nod before looking over Sherlock’s shoulder to see what he’s holding.
It’s a pink phone, similar to the one you’d seen pictures of from a victim that was murdered in the case that John had named “A Study in Pink”. As you look more closely, you see that the phone has an unopened message. Before you can say anything, Sherlock opens it revealing a picture of a pair of trainers in the middle of a room. The floorboards look quite similar to the ones in your Baker Street apartment, though they look to be slightly damp. It’s likely they’re in a basement or attic. You turn back to Greg and John, letting Sherlock reveal what you’d seen mere moments later.
‘It's a picture of a pair of shoes, trainers specifically.’ He turns the phone to face the two men. ‘Quite an old style, we’ll have to discern from when exactly once we pick them up. We have to stop this bomber.’ Greg shoots Sherlock a confused look. ‘Once we pick them up? From where?’

Sherlock had basically dragged everyone out of Scotland Yard to go to Baker Street. It wasn’t entirely surprising to you that Jim had planted them here, yet you had not expected them underneath a latch which led to the basement. Mrs Hudson told you, once you’d found the shoes, that she hadn’t used that basement for over a decade, so she was as surprised as everyone else. Just as Sherlock started deducing the room, he was interrupted by the pink phone ringing. Sherlock picks it up immediately and puts on speaker so everyone in the room can hear. 
‘HH- Hello sexy.’ A woman’s voice comes through the speaker. ‘Who is this?’ Sherlock asks before she can really continue. ‘I’ve sent…’ it was quite obvious that the woman was crying, ‘you… a little… puzzle.’ The fear in her voice is palpable and John and Greg look distressed. Sherlock, on the other hand, looks to be as cool as a cucumber. ‘Who’s talking? Why are you crying?’ A moment passes as the sniffs become louder for a moment. ‘I’m not crying. I’m typing…’ another pause, ‘and this stupid bitch is reading it out.’ Sherlock mumbles something about a curtain rising and John asks him what he meant. You’re situated a bit further from them as you don’t want to interrupt or interfere with Jim’s plans. ‘You have twelve hours to solve my puzzle, Sherlock, or I’m going to be so naughty.’  

You took several pictures with one of the cameras you’d snagged from work before putting the shoes in a large ziplock and handing it to Sherlock. You weren’t surprised about the dramatics. Besides, Jim just wants Sherlock to show off his skill set. You decided to join the consulting detective and his personal blogger to Saint Barts Hospital, where you would be using the equipment to analyse the shoes. Of course, Sherlock and John hailed a cab to get there before you could even suggest taking the tube. Greg offered to drop you off and you decided to take him up on that offer, especially with him being your superior at Scotland Yard and this being work related.
‘Do you think Sherlock will solve the case?’ You ask Lestrade as he’s driving. ‘Yeah, I trust that he’s able to do it. He kind of has to, with the threat of another bomb going off in the middle of London.’ When you’d gotten back to Baker Street earlier with Sherlock, you’d noticed that the building that used to be across from 221 had basically vanished after an explosion. That had been the first one, and if Sherlock didn’t solve the puzzles set out by Jim you were certain that this “naughty” thing he was planning would be another explosion. ‘You put quite a lot of trust into him.’ You pause and turn slightly so you can see his face when you continue speaking. ‘Hopefully he won’t disappoint then.’ Greg’s eyes turn to look at you briefly. ‘He won’t. I’m sure of it.’ Your face remains neutral as you turn back to face the road ahead of you and he does the same. 

The rest of the ride was spent chatting about everything and nothing, trying to distract yourselves from what is going on in the world. Greg did not join you in going inside St. Barts, opting to go back to Scotland Yard, stating that he had to arrange so there would be a team ready to get the woman out of wherever she was. You told him you would keep in touch before shutting the car door behind you and swiftly entering the large building.
After asking around for a bit, you are pointed to where you have to be. As you enter the lab, you’re greeted by the view of John trying to get Sherlock’s phone out of Sherlock’s own pocket as the detective sits behind a microscope. ‘Careful.’ The brunette says as John seems to be struggling. When he finally manages he reads the message on the screen. ‘It’s from your brother.’ 

‘Delete it.’ 

‘Delete it?’

‘The missile plans are out of the country now, nothing we can do about it.’ John sighs at the detective’s comments. ‘Well Mycroft thinks there is. He texted you eight times. Must be important.’ You try to get a better look at Sherlock’s facial expressions, but he’s obscured by the microscope. ‘Then why didn’t he cancel his dental appointment?’ ‘His what?’ John only looks more confused than before. ‘Mycroft never texts if he can talk.’ Sherlock seems to become only more agitated. ‘Look, Andrew West stole the missile plans, tried to sell them, got his head smashed in for his pains, end of story. The only mystery in this: why is my brother so determined to bore me when somebody else is being so delightfully interesting?’
You cough and gain their attention. ‘Ah! You’re finally here Charlie.’ You nod and approach and hand the SD card to Sherlock. ‘Hi Charlie, good to see you’re here too. Sherlock, what I’m saying is that we have to try and remember that there’s a woman that might die.’ The detective only huffs and John looks frustrated. ‘What for? This hospital is full of people dying, doctor. Why don’t you cry by their bedsides and see what good it does them?’ 
Luckily, a beep from one of the machines interrupts their conversation. You walk over to it and tell them that the search is complete. As you turn, a woman you don’t know personally but have read about in Sherlock’s file walks in. ‘Any Luck?’ she asks. ‘Oh yes! Charlie, what does the machine say?’ You read it out to them and Sherlock nods understandingly. As you’re about to introduce yourself to Molly, you’re interrupted once again. ‘Oh sorry!’ The door opens again. ‘I didn’t know…’ ‘Jim, hi! Come in. Come in.’ Everyone’s eyes turn to the man entering and yours widen ever so slightly. 
It’s Jim. The Jim you know as a criminal mastermind; dressed as an average, regular guy. ‘Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes.’ Molly’s blushing and you’re convinced that Jim has been pursuing her romantically for some time. ‘Oh!’ He’s very excited about all this. ‘And uhm…’ ‘John Watson, hi’ The doctor says reluctantly. You’re pretty sure she hasn’t spotted you yet, as you’re a few metres away from where the others are standing. ‘Hi! So you’re Sherlock Holmes! Molly’s told me all about you. Are you on one of your cases?’ His voice is so positively cheery it almost scares you. ‘Jim works in I.T. upstairs. That’s how we met. Office romance.’ She looks positively radiant about it all. Sherlock continues to work, but as Jim shuffles past he mumbles something, ‘Gay.’ ‘I’m sorry what?’ Molly sounds confused. ‘Nothing.’ The detective mumbles again. Jim finally manages to shuffle past the detective and “accidentally” bumps into you and knocks a metal dish onto the floor. ‘Oh, sorry.’ Your eyes lock but yours remain as unemotional as they are usually. His, on the other hand, look to be full of glee. He’s enjoying himself thoroughly. You raise an eyebrow before he bends down, picking up the dish and slipping a note into his hand below the dish. ‘Sorry, sorry!’ John shoots a death glare. ‘Well, I’d better be off. I’ll see you at the Fox, about six-ish?’ Molly looks flustered. ‘Yeah.’ she says as she blushes again. ‘Bye… it was nice to meet you.’ It remains silent until John awkwardly says ‘You too.’ followed by a silent mumble in the same vein by you just before the door slams shut behind the short man.

‘What do you mean gay? We’re together.’ Molly says sternly. ‘And domestic bliss must suit you Molly. You’ve put on three pounds since I last saw you.’ ‘Two and a half.’ ‘Three.’

‘It’s unnecessary to comment on her weight, Sherlock.’ Your voice is just loud enough for them to hear. ‘You’ve rediscovered your voice Charlie, how kind for you to join us once again.’ The detective shoots you a pointed look from behind his microscope. ‘I’m not good with people.’ ‘But you are, everyone at Scotland Yard seems to like you.’ You huff. ‘That’s work related, it’s different.’ John supports you, ‘Sherlock, as long as you act within the bounds of what they deem normal you’re fine. Shyness is a lot more easily accepted than how you tend to act around people.’ Molly agrees with the man before continuing to talk about Jim. You conclude that she must be infatuated with him, or at least somewhat. ‘He’s not gay, Sherlock. Why do you have to spoil… he’s not!’ You try to remain neutral and not react to everything the brunette says about your boss. ‘With that level of personal grooming?’ John jumps in again. ‘Because he puts a bit of product in his hair? I put product in my hair.’ ‘You wash your hair, there’s a difference.’ You sigh quietly and turn to look at one of the computers that shows the data about the shoes. Jim hadn’t kept you inside the loop in terms of what cases he would give Sherlock to solve. You understand, though, the detective is good at deduction and the less you know, the less there is to give away your real identity and your affiliation to Jim. ‘No no… tinted eyelashes… clear signs of taurine cream around the frown lines, those tired clubber’s eyes… then his underwear.’ ‘His underwear?’ Molly and John echo. ‘Visible above the waistline. Very visible.’ You’d noticed too. Jim certainly did all this intentionally. While he’s always well-groomed, he usually prefers to dress in a suit, not in some shirt and trousers that show off his underwear. ‘That plus the extremely suggestive fact that he just left his number under the dish here .’ That’s what the note was for. Certainly quite bold, but then again, he doesn’t care much for relationships if they don’t benefit him. The use he had for Molly has now passed with him actually meeting the detective in the flesh. ‘I’d say you’d better break it off now and save yourself the pain.’ The woman storms out.
‘Charming.’ You mutter into your coffee that you’d just picked up from one of the desks. ‘Well done.’ John says. ‘Just saving her time. Isn’t that kinder?’ You almost choke at the comment as you were mid-sip. ‘Kinder? No, no. Sherlock. That wasn’t kind.’ 

The two of them continue bickering as if you aren’t there. You wish you could be more talkative, have more input, but for now, you decide to not interfere too much. Your persona will have to slowly warm up to them and eventually speak more confidently. Silently, you walk to the coffee machine that’s in the common area for the laboratories. As you’re waiting for your cup to be filled with a new brew, Molly walks in looking like she’s been crying. ‘Sorry about Sherlock. Are you alright?’ You ask her and you put a hand on your shoulder. ‘It’s fine,’ she sniffs and wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her lab coat, ‘you can’t help it. He’s just like that sometimes.’ You motion for her to sit down in one of the chairs nearby. ‘Tea?’ You ask her as you move to grab a clean cup from one of the cupboards. She nods and you turn on the kettle.

 

Chapter 8

You see Jim before leaving the hospital. Sherlock and John are still busy in the lab, but you decided it would be best to leave. Besides, Mycroft had sent you a message to meet him. 

‘Jim what the hell are you doing here?’ You ask after you’ve pulled him into one of the empty bathrooms. He just smirks and you let out a soft sigh. ‘He suspects nothing, by the way.’ You say quietly. ‘Oh, I know.’ ‘The underwear was a nice touch, really sold it.’ He lets out a chuckle. I lean back against the wall for a moment, looking at him. It’s odd seeing him like this, slightly dishevelled and wearing clothes that are awfully casual. ‘I have a meeting with the iceman tonight.’ That piques his curiosity. ‘Oh? I thought you’d met with him only a few days ago.’ You nod. ‘I did. I’m not certain what he wants to be honest.’ ‘Well, you’ve certainly gained his attention.’ Jim notes with a slight smirk. ‘Perhaps he’s melting.’
You raise an eyebrow at his comment. ‘I doubt that is the case. The only person he has a soft spot for is his brother.’ ‘You never know Spikey, anything can happen.’ He says in a sing-song voice and you let out a soft scoff. ‘Surely you’re joking.’ You deadpan. ‘I’m not. Please get as close to him as you possibly can. Do anything to gain his unwavering trust.’ He puts emphasis on that last word and you nod, eyes trained on his face. 

‘Anything?’ 

‘Anything.’

‘Alright…’ you push yourself off of the wall and start walking to the door, ‘well, good luck cheering up your girlfriend tonight.’ Jim lets out a scoff. ‘I was planning to break up with her tonight, but I suppose I’ll wait another week.’ You let out the slightest chuckle. ‘Well, despite all that, don’t forget to have your fun with Sherlock. I’m looking forward to seeing what you have planned.’ ‘Oh I will, and I’m certain you will enjoy it.’ 

The door closes behind you and you start heading back to 221C. Being uncertain where you would be meeting Mycroft that night, you determine that you would probably be picked up by his assistant again. You nap for a short while before taking a shower and putting on some nicer clothes, consisting of a crisp white shirt, black pleated trousers, a dark grey jumper and some chelsea boots. No matter what you put on, you will likely always be underdressed compared to Mycroft, however, this should be good enough for most settings.
At 18:55 you stand outside, umbrella above you keeping you dry from the pouring rain. At exactly seven o’clock, a black car pulls up and Anthea steps out and opens the car door for you. After closing the umbrella, you get in quickly and quietly, your black trench coat dragging behind you on the backseat before you fully settle in. Anthea joins you shortly thereafter and the car starts driving through the busy streets of London. You suppose you’ll be meeting him at some sort of restaurant, though you’re uncertain as to what he has planned.

The car comes to a halt after about thirty minutes. When you look outside, you’re still in the middle of London. You suppose traffic had been worse than expected. Anthea opens the door before motioning you to get out as well. Sliding out easily, you’re met by the shadow of an umbrella being held up for you.
‘Thank you.’ You say quietly before straightening your back and coming to your full height. When you do so, you realise that the person holding the umbrella is not, in fact, Anthea, but Mycroft Holmes himself. ‘Ah, mister Holmes, I didn’t realise it was you.’ His expression is as neutral as ever. ‘Do not fret it, Charlie.’ His gaze feels as if it’s burning into you. ‘And I told you to call me Mycroft. Now, shall we head inside?’ 
A slight nod is enough confirmation for him and he starts walking, you beside him. Inside, he closes his umbrella and hands his coat to one of the staff. You do the same before you’re led into the restaurant. The table you’re seated at is in a relatively quiet corner, out of the sight of most of the restaurant’s patrons. The both of you take a seat on opposite sides of the table. There’s a candle lighting it, but the restaurant is relatively dark otherwise.

‘To what do I owe this pleasure, Mycroft?’ You enquire carefully, your eyes scanning his face. He is wearing a dark grey (almost black), pinstriped, three piece suit that is tailored perfectly to him. His tie is a dark red and is the same colour as his pocket square. ‘I promised I would be reimbursing you for your pastry and tea yesterday, since you were adamant about paying it for yourself. Anyhow, with today’s developments, it only seemed fitting to meet so soon.’ His voice is smooth but calculated. ‘Certainly. I assume you wish to know the details of the case he’s working on?’ He nods and you start going into detail what had transpired that day, going from the details of where the shoes had been found to the pink phone and the phone call Sherlock had received on it.

‘He seemed to be close to solving it when I left the hospital, so I assume that the threat has been dealt with for now.’ You say casually as you sip your water. Mycroft nods before calling over the waiter and ordering a bottle of wine and some food for the two of you. Supposing it to be rude to refuse, you have dinner with him. Besides, as Jim had instructed, you’ll do anything to gain the iceman’s trust.
‘That’s good to hear…’ Mycroft muses as he sips his wine. ‘I’d like you to keep a closer eye on him as he solves this, what I suppose will be, series of connected cases.’ There’s a glint in his eye as he looks at you, remaining silent for a moment before speaking once more. 
‘You’re a lot more clever than you let on at Scotland Yard or to my brother. I won’t pry into your reasons, but I do hope there can be a semblance of mutual trust and understanding between us.’

‘Of course, Mycroft.’ You show him a soft, kind smile, one you’d practiced many times and that had swooned many people, men, women, and other genders alike. ‘Our arrangement stands, and how I see it, I will do whatever it takes to get you the information you seek concerning Sherlock and his cases.’

‘Good.’ He says, slightly more relaxed.

‘Good.’ You nod.

The night progresses pleasantly, mostly speaking of cases and Sherlock. All of it is very surface level still, as you do not wish to pry just yet, it would not only be rude, but also awfully obvious. Instead, you listen to him speak about the political landscape and the monarchy before returning to the subject you have in common, Sherlock. 
As the night passes, the bottle empties, and you realize that you may have gone in and over your head. While you’re used to drinking some alcohol, this wine is heavy. Additionally, the food is paired with it so well that you just keep on drinking without truly realising the ramifications. 
Eventually, Mycroft calls for his driver to pick up the both of you, as he’d rather make sure you get home safely. As you get into the car, you realise how awfully considerate, and thus out of character this is for him, yet you do not question it out loud. Instead, you decide it may as well be a good sign in you gaining his trust. 

The door of 221B, which also functions as the door to your apartment in 221C, comes into view after a short but silent ride. The tension between the two of you has been thick ever since getting into the car. Beforehand, Mycroft had helped you put on your coat before walking to the car with you under his umbrella. These gestures didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you remain uncertain as to what to make of it. Still, you suppose they’re a good sign, especially when it comes to completing your mission.
The car comes to a halt and Mycroft gets out, opening his umbrella in the pouring rain, before walking around the car and opening your door. 
‘Thank you.’ You say as you take the hand he’s offered you. After closing the car door, he slowly walks you to the entrance of your flat, making sure not to get any rain on you. Turning to him, you speak once more. ‘This evening has been quite lovely, Mycroft.’
‘It has indeed.’ He confirms, his eyes locked into your gaze. It flickers momentarily, his gaze focussing on your lips for a split second. It’s not much, but it’s enough. 

Anything . Jim’s words repeat themselves in your head. This is the perfect opportunity, the iceman showing even the faintest sign of humanity, of the possibility of melting even the tiniest bit. You breathe in slowly as you continue to gaze at him, stepping forward slightly as to start closing the distance between the two of you.
‘Mycroft…’ Your voice is quiet, barely audible with the rain that’s pouring down onto the umbrella above you. ‘Yes?’ He asks just as quietly, stepping forward ever so slightly as well. Knowing he will not be the one to make the first move, you decide to be bold. 

‘May I kiss you?’

He remains quiet, yet gives the slightest nod.

You close the distance and your lips capture his. The kiss is soft as your hand moves to rest upon his bicep while the other cups his cheek. After only a moment, you pull away slowly, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze once more. 
A moment passes before he leans back in himself, his lips hungry and wanting more. His free hand rests on your hip as he pulls you closer, wanting more. You let him, reciprocating the same energy he gives. 

‘Join me.’ You whisper as he pulls back for a moment, catching his breath. ‘We shouldn’t.’ He says, yet his eyes linger and his touch remains.

Anything. The word repeats itself in your mind.

‘Please, Mycroft.’ You whisper as you squeeze his arm ever so slightly, eyes trained on his. You lean in and kiss him again when his gaze shifts to your lips once more.
‘Alright.’ He whispers as he pulls back once more. He lets you open the door and he follows inside, his car driving away as he closes his umbrella.

Chapter 9

Notes:

lol my friend urged me to just go for it and write the smut, so here's a bonus chapter. This is your smut warning.
Sorry if it's bad, I never write smut.

How you make your way into the apartment is a blur filled with the two of you pulling at each other and kissing hungrily. Once the door closes behind you, he drops his umbrella to the ground and you start pulling off his coat and suit jacket, dropping them to the floor. Your lips do not leave his as he does the same.
‘Gods, I need you.’ You mutter in his ear before undoing the buttons of his vest. He doesn’t say anything, just admires you as he undoes the buttons of your shirt before kissing you again, more deeply this time. Once your shirt is off, so is his. Leading him to your bed, he falls backwards onto it once his knees hit it. ‘You’re gorgeous Charlie.’ He admires. ‘Truly a work of art.’ ‘I would say flattery doesn’t get you anywhere, but then I’d be lying.’ Your lips connect once more as you straddle his hips, his hands bury themselves in your hair. He groans when you grind down slightly into him, one of his hands shooting to hold your waist while he grinds back into you. Breaking the kiss, you whisper in his ear, ‘Let me take care of you, Mycroft,’ before slowly kissing from his neck down his chest and torso. Placing a kiss on his clothed bulge, you start undoing his trousers before pulling them down. You look up and try to see his face when you take his cock into your hand, but his head is tilted back into the cushions, his forearm resting in front of his eyes. After stroking him a couple of times, you take the tip into your mouth. A restrained moan follows from him, he’s clearly trying not to make too much noise. Dutifully, you bop your head up and down as you suck, taking him into your mouth further and further. As you do so, his moans become louder and more frequent, being unable to contain himself any longer. ‘Fuck, you’re good at this.’ He looks down and locks his eyes with his, his free hand now moving down and into your hair. ‘You’re going to be the death of me.’ Groaning, he lets his head fall backwards once more when he hits the back of your throat. After a couple more of those deep throats, he releases into your mouth and you swallow.
Pulling you up, he brings you into another searing kiss. ‘You’re beautiful.’ His hands start undoing your own trousers and pull them down. He uses his fingers to prepare you while he continues kissing your lips and neck. ‘Ah, yes Mycroft!’ You moan as you grip his shoulders, your nails leaving crescent moon shaped marks. Once he’s deemed you prepared enough, he pulls his fingers out of you. ‘I have condoms in the drawer of my bedside table.’ You pant and he leans over you to grab one. He puts it on before lining himself up with you and slowly entering. His jaw tenses, clearly trying to remain in control of himself. He curses quietly before burying his face into your neck as he moves, kissing and biting it every so often. As he does so, you grip his neck while your other hand remains on his back, raking down and making marks. His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging in slightly, the force with which he does so increasing as he speeds up.
You stare at the ceiling as he moves, slowly starting to dissociate. It’s something that happens from time to time, especially while on missions like this one, where you have to get as close as possible to people. Intimacy is something you have only experienced like this, while on missions and with people you do not have any emotional relationship with. As a result, your brain sometimes just… shuts off. 
What you didn’t expect however, is for Mycroft to stop moving and look at your face when you’ve stopped making as much noise. ‘You alright?’ His face comes out of your neck and his eyes scan your face. Your eyes refocus onto him. ‘Yeah. yeah, I’m fine.’ His hand comes up to your face and he brushes some hair out of it. ‘Charlie…’ He mutters, clearly not convinced. ‘I’m fine, just a bit tired… today’s been a long day’ You lean up and kiss him before urging him to move again. 

Not too long after, you decide to take charge, wanting to make sure that you don’t start dissociating again so as not to worry Mycroft in any way. Your hips move rhythmically while you look down at him. His grey eyes are locked onto yours while his hands rest on your hips. His eyes rake your body, appreciating how toned it looks as a result of working out regularly. He notices a scar on your shoulder, however, and he leans sits up, placing a kiss on it. As he does so, your hands start going through his hair, gripping it as your high approaches.
‘My-Mycroft.’ You gasp next to his ear. ‘You’re going to be the death of me.’ He mutters, his hands now covering your shoulder blades as starts chasing his own high. His forehead rests against your shoulder as he comes shortly after you, you tightening around him pushing him over the edge.

‘Holy shit.’ You become boneless within Mycroft’s grasp, leaning against him for support. ‘Holy shit indeed.’ He mutters, placing a kiss on your shoulder again. Meanwhile, you lean your head onto his shoulder, eyes closed and breathing deeply. 
‘Will you stay the night?’ Your question breaks the silence that remained after a couple of minutes. ‘Yes.’ He breathes. ‘Yes I will.’

Chapter 10

When you wake up, Mycroft Holmes is in your bed, sleeping next to you.

In. Your. Bed.

Oh. OH . Your thoughts start racing as you sit up slightly and take in the sight of him. His hair is slightly tousled and he looks… peaceful? He stirs as you do so. While you had been fully aware of what you were doing last night, you’d been a bit disoriented when you woke up just now. As you study his form, you notice there’s light constellations of freckles on his pale shoulders and chest. You almost want to trace them… almost . You watch him wake and smile at him slightly when he finally does open his eyes.

‘Good morning Mycroft.’

Your voice is soft and quiet, but loud enough for him to hear. The persona you’d been crafting oh so carefully snapping back into place the moment you feel you’re being perceived by others.
‘Good morning Charlie.’ He mutters before leaning up slightly and cupping the side of your face. He looks at your eyes for a moment before they glance at your lips. You lean down slightly and meet his lips. The kiss is soft, tender even. Different from last night. He lets out a soft hum when you part, and there’s the slightest flush on his face. His grey eyes stare at you and you stare right back.
‘Would you like some tea?’ You ask as you get out from beneath the covers of your bed and grab your robe, putting it on casually. 
‘I should probably get to work,’ he says, ‘but I’ll have a cup.’ 

After turning on the kettle, you grab two mugs from your cupboard. ‘Don’t worry, it’s about six in the morning.’ You glance at him momentarily. His figure is one you still have to get used to, especially when he isn’t wearing an impeccable suit. ‘I assume you do not usually start until around seven thirty?’ He nods, confirming your suspicions. “Yes… so I’ll have some time then.” His voice is less confident than usual, though it’s barely noticeable. Once the water has come to a boil, you pour it into the two cups and start steeping some tea. 
‘Milk? Sugar?’ ‘A splash of milk and a teaspoon of sugar please.’ You do so before walking over to him and handing him his cup. As you do so, you’re sipping your own cup of tea, no milk or sugar inside. He takes a tentative sip before nodding, indicating that it’s good. 

‘I don’t think I’ll be going on my morning run today.’ You mumble, more to yourself than Mycroft after a moment of silence. ‘You go on runs in the morning?’ ‘I do, I like getting out before work.’ That’s not entirely untrue, you do enjoy the feeling of being outside when most of the city is still asleep. ‘That’s quite an… admirable trait.’ His eyes glint slightly. For some reason, you feel he’s slowly memorising every little trait that concerns you. 
‘While it is, I’d prefer spending my morning with you today.’ You set down your mug of tea on the nightstand before getting onto the bed and placing your knees on either side of him, straddling his hips. He chokes on his tea for a moment before quickly swallowing, smiling and setting down his mug as well. His hands rest on your hips. ‘I’d like that.’ He leans up and captures your lips in a kiss. You kiss back and drape your arms around his neck as you do so. ‘How long do you have?’ You murmur into his ear. ‘About thirty minutes if we don’t shower, fifteen if we do.’ His voice is calm but there’s a tinge of want. ‘How about we combine the two?’ He lets out a sound that could best be described as a growl of some sort as he lifts you and carries you to your bathroom, pulling off your robe before turning on the shower and covering you with his body, kissing your lips hungrily.

---

Mycroft leaves your place after a quick shower together, as his driver was waiting for him. After he’s left you quickly get ready for work, opting to wear a turtleneck as to cover some of the marks which had been left the previous night. You’re sore to say the least, however, nothing you couldn’t deal with. You’d been way more sore from other similar missions. As you’re heading out, your phone rings.

‘I saw he finally left your place.’ Jim’s voice sounds through your burner phone. ‘Yeah.’ You confirm as you walk down the street. ‘He was alright.’ ‘Was he now? Good god.’ Jim murmurs. You can just imagine how he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘Well, keep up the good work. Just get close to him, and all.’ He sounds… frustrated? It’s difficult to really say over the phone, especially with him being relatively prone to sounding monotone when talking business. Seeing him usually gives you a bit more information to actually gauge how he is feeling or what he is thinking about something.
‘How was your date with Hooper? Break her heart yet?’ You quickly change the subject, never having enjoyed these sorts of conversations. The chuckle that leaves him is dry. ‘Yes. I am single once more.’ There is a bit of a dramatic flair to how he says it. He really is one for dramatics. ‘She was incredibly boring to you anyway, and not your type in the slightest.’ ‘That is right, Spike. She really was a bore.’ He sighs, ‘ Dreadful, truly. The only thing keeping me entertained were the stories she told me about Sherlock.’ Checking into the bus, you hold the phone between your ear and shoulder for a moment. ‘How’s the game going anyway? Everything’s according to plan I assume?’ ‘Yes, he’s moving as I’d expected. Though it seems he hasn’t noticed who I am yet, despite my little visit yesterday.’

The day at Scotland Yard which followed was boring. Rather than being involved in the action with Sherlock like Lestrade and Donnovan, you are sat filing away documents in the office, with Anderson bothering you every so often. Despite your hopes, you’ve become more of a passive figure in the game. Still, you understand. Getting you involved is a risk Jim is not willing to take when he needs you to get close to mister British Government himself, who had texted you on your civilian phone around lunchtime to thank you for the previous night. While you’re reading it, you contemplate whether you should change his name in your contacts or not. You’d spent the night together, yes, but that does not mean it will actually evolve into anything serious. On the contrary, you have left plenty of men and women on read after a night together, so he certainly would not be your first one night stand. 
This would have been the same had it not been for the mission Jim had given you: get as close to him as possible, no matter what. Would starting a romantic relationship with him be this ‘no matter what’ Jim’s spoken about? Sure, you’ve done plenty of things in the name of a mission; killing people, fucking people, torturing people, whatever he asks of you. But this? This is unchartered territory for you. Jim hates emotions, as they’re unpredictable, and because he hates them, so do you.

The text just stares at you as you hold your phone in front of you.

I enjoyed your company yesterday and this morning, thank you. Shall we have dinner again soon? -MH.

‘Fuck.’ You run a hand over your face. You know you have to reply at some point, and sooner rather than later. 
‘Hey Charlie,’ Greg walks up with a smile, ‘how are things here?’ ‘Fine.’ You reply, your gaze still locked onto your phone’s screen. ‘You sure? You seem awfully distracted by your phone.’ A sigh leaves your lips, knowing there’s no point in hiding it. Lestrade may not be Sherlock when it comes to deduction or crimesolving, he isn’t a complete idiot. ‘Just not sure how to reply to someone.’ Your voice is soft, trying to sound conflicted due to personal feelings regarding the person, not because you are not particularly thrilled about having to start dating someone in order to fulfill your mission properly. ‘Matters of the heart?’ He asks curiously and you nod. ‘You could say that.’
At that, he leans against your desk while you lean back in your chair. ‘Well, I always think it’s best to be honest with them. Be clear with your intentions, I suppose.’ His hand rubs his chin. As he does so, he hasn’t shaved in approximately two days, which seems to be a common occurrence for him. ‘I feel this may be an exceptional circumstance, Greg.’ You reply. ‘He’s… different from most people.’ ‘Different?’ He scans your form for a moment. ‘That, and I spent the night with him, which complicates things.’ ‘That it certainly does.’ He chuckles. ‘It always does, doesn’t it?’ You bite back a smile, despite not enjoying your predicament in the slightest. ‘Yeah, you’re right about that.’ ‘Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,’ Greg says and pats your shoulder, ‘it’s not like you’re dealing with Sherlock or anything.’ That, you certainly weren’t, though you doubt his brother is much of an improvement. If anything, he’s probably worse when it comes to emotional attachments. Still, he had texted you, asking you to see him again, albeit indirectly through asking you out for dinner, saying he had enjoyed your company. Dinner… that’s good, right?
‘He’s asked me to go for dinner soon.’ Greg grins. ‘That’s good! Why are you hesitant?’ You shrug. ‘Come on Charlie, you can tell me.’ ‘I’m just not very… experienced when it comes to relationships.’ Admitting that to him wasn’t difficult, and with Jim or Sebastian, it would have felt normal, as if discussing the weather. After all, in your occupation you do not date or form romantic connections. Yet, here, with Greg, in an office where you cannot stand most of your colleagues while you try to pretend you actually care about this job and blend into the daily life of Scotland Yard, you feel something. Shame? Why would you feel something so… illogical? Out of character even. ‘Well, we all have to start somewhere, there’s no shame in not being experienced when it comes to relationships. Hell, I wish I hadn’t gotten involved with plenty of people.’ He’s trying, desperately trying, to make you feel at ease. To make you feel normal. Yet here you are, sitting in an office chair, looking at some DI that doesn’t really know you as he tries to comfort you for not having been in a relationship the past 27 years. ‘I mean, I divorced my wife a few years ago. That was more mess than anyone would’ve bargained for.’ And there it is, the distraction from you you desperately need. With ease, you change the topic to him, his divorce, as well as his other failed relationships, making him feel like he’s giving you life advice despite just ranting about his own failures.

 

Dinner would be nice. Let me know when. -CM

You reply to Mycroft’s text.

 

Anything, right?

Chapter 11

Rather than the expected text from Mycroft, the next text you receive is from an unknown phone number.

Meet me at The Regent’s Park tomorrow morning at eight sharp. -JM

His text is as it always is, short and to the point. He doesn’t even expect any sort of reply, he just expects you to be there. It’s clear cut, something he rarely is to people that do not know him. To most, Jim’s unpredictable, violent at times, but to you, he tends to be pretty straightforward. There are exceptions to this, however, like when he was suddenly at St. Bart's yesterday. While it wasn’t particularly out of character, it did surprise you due to you not really having been in the loop on what he’s doing. 
'Charlie, Greg,’ Sally approaches with quick strides, ‘new threat. I suggest we call the freak.’ ‘Sherlock, you mean.’ You correct her. ‘Yeah, whatever.’

Greg calls the consulting detective and he arrives not too long after, his, as he calls John, favourite blogger in tow. ‘Hello you two.' You greet them when they enter the station and walk with them to Greg’s office. ‘Lestrade's in his office, something about a pager and mobile phone.’ ‘Right, much else?’ You shake your head. ‘Only that the woman in question lives in Cornwall; her house was broken into by two men wearing masks who subsequently decked her out in explosives.’ I open the door to the office for them and Greg pushes the pager into Sherlock’s hands. ‘The explosives are enough to take out the entire house. She was told to call you and read this out.’ He says. ‘And if she’d deviated by one word, the sniper would’ve set her off.’ Sherlock glances over the paper. ‘Or if you hadn’t solved the case.’ John interjects. ‘Oh! Elegant!' Sherlock almost shouts. ‘Elegant?’ The former army doctor sounds incredibly confused. ‘But what was the point? Why would anyone do this?’ Greg asks as he pinches his nose and closes his eyes, thinking deeply. ‘Well… I can’t be the only person in the world who gets bored.’ Just as Sherlock speaks the pink phone goes off.

‘You have one new message.' A voice sounds through the phone’s speaker. 'Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.’

'Four pips!’ John exclaims. ‘First test passed, it seems.’ Sherlock grins at John. ‘Here’s the second one.’

A picture of a flashy sports-car appears, all its doors wide open. 'Abandoned, wouldn’t you say?’ Sherlock says as everyone looks over his shoulder at the phone. ‘I’ll see if it’s been reported.’ The Detective Inspector says and reaches for his phone. When he does so, Sally calls over to Sherlock from her desk. ‘Freak!’ She holds out her phone to him, slightly annoyed. ‘It’s for you.’ 'Hello?’ The tall man says as he holds Sally’s phone to his ear. 'It’s ok… that you’ve gone to the police…' A man’s voice sounds through the phone, he’s clearly scared. ‘Who is this? Is this you again?’ '...but don’t rely on them. Clever you. Guessing about Carl Powers. I never liked him. I had a little theory… about asteroids. Carl laughed at me. So I stopped him laughing.’ Ah, so Jim has found a new person to send yet another message to the consulting detective. ‘And you’ve stolen another voice, I presume.' '...this is about you and me.’ ‘Who are you?’ Sherlock asks, frowning, and you almost want to hit him for asking such a stupid question despite being such an intelligent person. Every person in their right mind knows Jim, or anyone in his situation, would never reveal his identity, nor would he let the person he’s holding hostage tell the detective who they are. ‘What’s that noise?’ He asks again. 'The sounds…of life…Sherlock. But don’t worry…I can soon fix that.’ There is a moment of silence before the man’s voice sounds through the phone again, Sherlock listening carefully. 'You solved my last puzzle in nine hours. This time you have eight.’ The phone goes dead and Sherlock hangs up.
You glance down at your work phone. You’d airdropped the photograph from the pink phone to your own before sending it to some of your colleagues. As you’re scrolling through, you receive a message. ‘Good news.’ You say quietly. 'It seems we’ve found it.’ ‘We’ve found what, Charlie?’ Lestrade asks. ‘The car.’ You hold up the message for them to see.

About two hours later, Sally and Greg return while the consulting detective and his blogger follow about another two hours later. You’re stood below Scotland Yard in the car pound. ‘How much blood is on the seat, would you say?’ Sherlock asks as he pulls his head back out of the car. ‘How much? About a pint.’ Greg replies and you interject. ‘Exactly a pint, actually.’ ‘That was their first mistake. The blood is definitely Monkford’s… but it’s been frozen.’ Sherlock’s mostly talking to himself.
‘Frozen?’ The DI asks. ‘There are clear signs. I think Monkford gave a pint of his blood some time ago. And that’s what they spread all over the seat.’ 'The colour’s slightly off from fresh blood. Happens when you freeze it.’ You explain. ‘Who did it, though?’ John asks. ‘Janus cars. The clue’s in the name.’ There’s a slight deadpan in Sherlock’s voice, and you realise just before John speaks. ‘The God with two faces.’ ‘Exactly. They provide a very special service.’ The consulting detective pulls off his rubber gloves. ‘If you’ve got problems, money troubles, bad marriage, whatever. Janus Cars will help you disappear.’ 'He’s a banker, right? Must've been financial troubles, it always is with those guys.’ Your eyes meet Sherlock’s. ‘He couldn’t see a way out. But if he were to vanish. If the car he hired was found abandoned with his blood all over the backseat…' He runs a hand through his brown curly hair, letting the information sink in. 
'So where is he?’ John is the first one to break the moment of silence. ‘Colombia.’ ‘Colombia?’ Greg just sounds confused. ‘Mr Ewart of Janus Cars had a twenty-thousand Colombian peso note in his wallet and quite a bit of change too.’ 

‘What else is there?’ Lestrade asks. ‘There must be more.’ ‘Well, he told us he hadn’t been abroad recently, but when I asked him about the cars I could clearly see the tan-line.’ The consulting detective’s eyes are almost glimmering. ‘No-one wears a shirt on a sunbed. That plus his arm…' ‘His arm?’ You ask curiously. ‘He kept scratching it.’ ‘Was he bleeding? Booster jab?’ You ask him. ‘It seems pretty likely, probably hepatitis B seeing that he came from Colombia.’ He’s almost gleeful at this point, though he’s still hiding it from the others fairly well. You recognise the excitement from how Jim can get at times, though it’s still slightly different. 'He’s just come back from settling Ian Monkford into his new life in Colombia. Mrs Monkford eventually cashes in the life insurance and she splits it with Janus Cars.’ ‘Mrs Monkford?’ The doctor tries to put the pieces together. ‘Oh yes, she’s in on it too.' He turns to Lestrade. ‘Now go and arrest them, Inspector. That’s what you do best. We need to let our friendly bomber know that the case is solved!’ You look down at your phone while Sherlock looks at his watch. 

‘I am on fire!’ He exclaims and grins.

That night, after arresting Mrs Monkford and Ewart, Sherlock taps away, congratulating Ian Monkford on his relocation. Not even a minute later, the pink phone rings and Sherlock snatches it up.

'He says…you can…come and fetch me.’ The scared man says before he starts shouting for help.

 

---

 

You head out on your morning run the following day, though a bit later than usual. After adding the route to your Strava, you make your way to The Regent’s Park to meet Jim. The route is slightly different from how you run it normally so you will arrive exactly at eight.
'Hello you.’ Jim’s voice sounds out just as you take out your headphones and pause the run. ‘Hello to you too.’ You turn to him. ‘Good seeing you.’ ‘We saw each other a few days ago.’ He retorts. ‘You know what I mean.’ You lean against one of the trees as you talk. The leaves cover the both of you from the sight of the cameras. ‘I know, Spikey. I know.’ His hand reaches up and tilts your head to the side slightly. ‘The iceman did a number on you.’ He remarks coolly, his voice changing slightly. ‘Is it that bad?’ ‘You know I don’t like it when you have to do things this way. This just reminds me.’ His eyes linger on the hickeys slightly. ‘Jim, it’s part of the job.’ You remove his hand from your chin and straighten your neck once more, looking into his eyes directly. 'You don’t like it, though, I know you well enough.’ ‘Neither of us likes the idea of romantic entanglements or using them to gain information,’ your voice is low, making sure your conversation remains discreet, ‘but it’s necessary and it’s working. Mycroft has already texted me to have dinner together some time soon.’ The criminal sighs and runs a hand through his hair. ‘I just worry. I cannot lose you, you're too good of an asset to me.’ ‘You wanted me to get close, I’m getting close. Anything, right?’ His gaze lingers on your neck but nods. ‘Anything.' He pauses. 'It has to be done.’ 

Your goodbyes are short, just like the remainder of the conversation. He tells you that he will be doing three more hostage situations and that time will likely get shorter and shorter for the consulting detective. He also mentions that after that, he will likely lay low for a bit, but will continue to need frequent updates from you. Clearly, this assignment will take much longer than you had initially anticipated. Still, he urges you to be careful and not take too much risk when it comes to the eldest Holmes brother. While he is very much into you, he is still a Holmes, and so incredibly perceptive and distrustful at times. If you were to break his trust in any way, it would mean that it would be broken forever, so it is of grave importance that that does not happen.

A ping goes off just as you arrive back at your flat.

 

I suggest we have dinner on Thursday. I'll have you picked up at seven sharp. -MH

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Sherlock fics