Chapter Text
SH
Sherlock returned home at 8pm, Shit he was late. He promised Enola that he would be back at 6. He could hardly tell the time when he was solving cases. He got to wound up at the possible crime scene, To Sherlock Holmes there were a thousand possibilities. Which made his life a thousand times worse. Each time he found a key, it could fit into ten doors. Enola would understand. Although it was no excuse to be late. Sherlock valued punctuality. He rang the doorbell. 1 2 3…7 8 9. There was a click of the doorknob from the other side. Sherlock was greeted by Enola’s scowl.
“You’re-”
He cut her off. Which wasn’t the most polite thing to do. To be honest Sherlock rarely thought of what the polite thing was.
“Late. I know,” He paused. “I’m sorry about that.”
Enola grinned. It annoyed Sherlock. What was so funny?
“I didn’t catch that last bit, Mind repeating it?”
Sherlock threw his briefcase on the couch.
“Too bad.”
Enola crossed her arms.
“It is a strange sight to see you apologize, You know?”
It felt strange apologizing too. Although a lot of things have been strange since Enola and him got closer. A good type of strange. It was rather unusual. Enola was his sister after all. They ought to be close right? No, they only recently got in touch. Which was because of their mothers disappearance. Not exactly the family reunion that people dream of.
“Don’t get used to it.” He replied, as he sat on the chair.
“What happened to your case?”
Sherlock sighed.
“Just like the others, nothing too out of the ordinary.”
Enola poured a cup of tea and offered him some.
“No thank you.” He said,
“Iv’e got to go in about an hour.”
That got Sherlock's attention.
“Where? It's late.”
“Just going on a walk with Tewksbury.”
Sherlock noted her cheeks pinkening at his name. Sherlock had no problem with the young lord nor with Enola roaming late in the night. He knew perfectly well that she was able to defend herself. It still didn’t stop him from worrying. Enola had some radar for trouble.
“Well, enjoy yourself.”
Time passed. It had been roughly ten minutes since Enola left. Sherlock brewed some coffee. He tapped his foot. His mind went back to the case. Until the doorbell rang. It couldn’t be Enola. Then who was it? He wasn’t expecting anyone. When he answered the door it was some he was not expecting. Mycroft. He ran his hand through his hair. Of all the people it was Mycroft.
“Hello brother.”
Sherlock couldn’t help but roll his eyes.
“What do you want?”
“It is not possible that I just wanted to visit?”
“At 9pm unannounced? No.”
Mycroft's gaze shifted to the living room which was a mess.
“Goodness,”
“I am aware of the state of my apartment.” Sherlock said before his brother could go on about how filthy it is.
“Does Enola not clean the apartment while she is here?” Mycroft asked, raising a brow.
“That is not her job, neither am I dependent on someone cleaning up after me.” Sherlock replied sharply.
“Will you really keep me standing at the doorstep Sherlock?”
That did seem rather amusing.
“Not until you tell me why you are here.”
Mycroft sighed.
“Well since I am here we can go to the bar and have a drink while I tell you.”
Mycroft seemed to realise that was not enough to convince him to go have a drink.
“Drinks on me.”
Well that did it. Sherlock wasn’t cheap. If he wanted a drink he could very much afford it but using Mycroft’s money always gave him satisfaction.
“Let’s see what you’ve gotten yourself into brother.”