Chapter Text
It was a normal Wednesday afternoon [for Sherlock, it was a boring afternoon]. No cases, no Lestrade. John finally visited his sister and Mrs. Hudson was busy with her own things.
So Sherlock was left alone.
He tried to sleep and waste time.
He tried reading and criticizing John’s blog.
He tried reciting playing every song he knew with the violin.
Halfway through repeating ‘Happy Birthday’ for the third time [and in a different chord], his phone buzzed and with sharp movements, he took it. The message was from-
“The Woman?”
It said:
HELP. I can see Parliament. No sun. Work out where I am. Please. IA.
He didn’t think twice. Taking his coat [and surprisingly forgetting his scarf], he dashed out of the flat.
“Taxi!”
He bit his knuckle. He knew where she was. He was already thinking of what he was planning to do with her captors.
Once the taxi stopped, he quickly left [but before that, paid the cabbie and didn’t get the change]. He raced to the door [and he didn’t even open it. He just slammed the right side of his body towards it.] Racing John’s gun [which he took from John’s locked room and desk], he walked slowly and quietly until he saw a man’s figure. He took the man by his collar and [almost like an animal] demanded where they kept her.
The man couldn’t do anything so he led Sherlock [with a gun pointed at the back of his neck]. He slowly unlocked a door to a room. Sherlock pushed him aside [harshly] and stormed into the dingy room, only to find his older brother sitting on a chair in the middle of the room.
Mycroft looked at his watch. “4 minutes and 2 seconds,” he said. He raised his brow. “I underestimated you. I said 6 at most. John said 3. Anthea said 4. Well, that was a bet I wasn’t prepared to lose. Especially to a PA”
Sherlock heaved in air [only now did he realise he was out of breath]. Bet, 4 minutes, that bloody please at the end of the message?
“What the hell was this for?” he questioned [only did he now feel the cold air around his neck]. He flipped up his collar. Mycroft laughed, “Brother mine, did you forget that scarf for that woman? My, my, I did underestimate you. But to be fair, John overestimated your capabilities and sentiments for her.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
“This was just a test, that’s all. Thank you for participating.”
“I came all this way for nothing?”
[His brother paused.] “Not at all, brother dear.”
Sherlock left without a word. Mycroft’s phone buzzed. He looked at the message:
You owe me a day-off, sir.
He sighed heavily.
Sherlock received his own text once he was back at Baker Street. It read:
Congratulations. You did well today. Let’s have dinner. IA.