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“What’s wrong!” Greg asks, breathless. “Where’s John?”
“I don’t know! The door is locked and… the noise! It’s terrifying!” As Ms. Hudson looks up the stairs, a bang followed by a metallic sound resonate. “John is in a conference for the week, Sherlock has been restless since he’s gone…”
“What the Hell…” Greg mutters as he goes up the stairs. Not wanting to warn anyone that may have nefarious intentions, he took the key and swiftly opens the door.
“Oh. My. God!” The key falls from Greg’s hand at the sight that was in front of him.
It was Sherlock with a… sword! Smiling, panting, his curly dark hair plastered by sweat… He was breathtaking! Oh my… John is missing something… He was getting his phone to take some pictures when someone charges on the detective. It was Mycroft bloody magnificent and sexy Holmes.
The fight went on for five minutes, it was spectacular to watch, before Mycroft realizes that the door was open and that Greg was staring at him. “Sherlock, stop!”
“What?” He turns towards the door. “Hello Geof! Is it for a case?”
“You are fighting. With swords. In your flat.”
Mycroft and Sherlock both look at Greg with a isn’t it obvious glare.
“Yes…” Sherlock pouts. “The club doesn't allow fights if the swords are not blunted!”