Thank you Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan on livejournal for the transcripts. They help so much.
Here is the Great Game.
I own nothing, except Calliah
Later, we are in the back of a taxi. “Nineteen eighty-nine, a young kid – champion swimmer – came up from Brighton for a school sports tournament; drowned in the pool. Tragic accident.” He shows us the front page of a newspaper on his phone. “You wouldn’t remember it. Why should you?”
“I remember that.” I say softly. Sherlock looks at me questionably.
“But you remember.” John says to Sherlock.
“Yes.” Sherlock says, still looking at me. I was ignoring him. I wasn’t happy with him.
“Something fishy about it?” John asks.
“Started young, didn’t you?
“The boy, Carl Powers, had some kind of fit in the water, but by the time they got him out it was too late. But there was something wrong; something I couldn’t get out of my head.” Sherlock explains.
“What?” John asks.
“His shoes.” Sherlock says.
“What about them?” John asks.
“They weren’t there. I made a fuss; I tried to get the police interested, but nobody seemed to think it was important. He’d left all the rest of his clothes in his locker, but there was no sign of his shoes ...” He leans down and picks up a bag containing the trainers. “... until now.”
When we get back to the flat, Sherlock shuts himself in the kitchen. In the living room, on the other side of the closed doors, John is pacing back and forth. I lay on the couch with one of the books from Sherlock’s shelf. John finally stops and slides one of the doors open.
“Can I help? I want to help. There’s only five hours left.” John says. His phone sounds a text alert. He gets the phone from his trouser pocket and looks at the message. “It’s your brother. He’s texting me now.” He frowns. I look over and smile. “How does he know my number?”
“Mycroft knows all.” I joke and laugh.
“Must be a root canal.” I hear Sherlock say. John goes into the kitchen and I pick up my phone to see if Mycroft had texted me. He hadn’t. John sticks his head out of the kitchen.
“I’m going to talk to Mycroft. D’you wanna come?” He asks me. I grin and jump up. “Yup.”
A little while later, John, wearing a jacket and tie, and I, wearing a blue short sleeve waffle skater dress, blue Sperry Top-Sider Harlow Women's Lace-up Boots, and a blue clutch, sit in Mycroft’s office. John was in a chair and I was sitting on Mycroft’s desk. John looks anxiously at his watch. I laugh. Mycroft walks into the office, reading a report. “John. How nice. I was hoping you wouldn’t be long.” Mycroft says as he walks across to the desk, still looking at the report. John politely stands. “How can I help you?” Mycroft walks straight past John and puts the report on the desk. He leans over and kisses my cheek and I smile at him softly. He looks me up and down and smirks. I roll my eyes and he shrugs. John coughs and we both look at him. Mycroft rolls his eyes and looks at his desk. Mycroft waves a hand in John’s direction.
“Thank you.” John says and sits. “Um, well, I was wanting to… um, your brother sent me to collect more facts about the stolen plans, the missile plans.” John says.
Mycroft looks over his shoulder and smiles at him. “Did he?”
“Yes.” John smiles back a little nervously as Mycroft turns towards him and leans back against his desk. He places a hand on my knee. “He’s investigating now.” Mycroft puts his hand to the right side of his mouth as if he is in pain. I frown and place my hand on his shoulder. “He’s, er, investigating away.” Mycroft lowers his hand from his cheek and smiles at John as if he doesn’t a word of it. “Um, I just wondered what else you can tell me about the dead man.
“Uh, twenty-seven; a clerk at Vauxhall Cross – er, MI6. He was involved in the Bruce-Partington Programme in a minor capacity. Security checks A-OK; no known terrorist affiliations or sympathies. Last seen by his fiancée at ten thirty yesterday evening.” Mycroft tells John.
“Right. He was found at Battersea, yes? So he got on the train.” John says.
“No.” Mycroft says.
“What?” John asks.
“He had an Oyster card ...” Grimacing, he raises his hand to his mouth again. “... but it hadn’t been used.”
“Must have bought a ticket.” John suggested.
Mycroft lowers his hand. “There was no ticket on the body.”
“Then ...” John says.
“Then how did he end up with a bashed-in brain on the tracks at Battersea? That is the question – the one I was rather hoping Sherlock would provide an answer to. How’s he getting on?” Mycroft asks.
“He-he’s fine, yes. Oh, and-and it is going ... very well. It’s, um, you know – he’s completely focused on it.” John says and grins at Mycroft unconvincingly.
“Okay. Do you have all you need?” Mycroft asks.
“O-Oh, yes.” John says and stands up. He goes to leave and turns back. “Calliah, are you coming?”
“No, I’m going to spend time with Croft.” I tell him. He nods and leaves the room. I turn to Mycroft and frown. “Are you in a lot of pain?” He nods. “Okay, ice cream time.” I say and get off his desk. I take his hand and lead him to the car. I get in and move over. He gets in and grabs my legs.
“You know you are a tease.” Mycroft says.
“I have no idea what you are talking about?” I say, trying to look innocent. He just laughs and wraps an arm around me. He sat in comfortable silence on the way to the ice cream parlor. We get there and he helps me out. We sit and order. “So last time we were here…”
Mycroft looks down. “We should just forget about that day. It was one of the worst days of my life.”
“But Croft…” I say. I really wanted to talk about the almost kiss.
“Please Ardaigh.” He says. Mycroft almost never says please so I nod.
“Sure.” I say and look at my hands.
He moves over to my side of the table and grab my hands. “Ardaigh, you know I have problems talking about feeling and sentimental things.” I nod and look up at him. “So just know I think more highly than this country.” He kisses my cheek and smiles.
I smile and hug him. I knew that would be the closest thing to hearing Mycroft say something about his feelings. Our ice cream comes and we eat.
After we get done we go back to his house and watch the next Harry Potter movie. Mycroft walks me to my bedroom at the end of the movie. I lean on the door frame. He smiles at me and I smile back. “Thank you for spending the day with me.” I say.
“Any time.” Mycroft says. He moves my hair behind my ear and keeps his hand on my cheek. I could feel my heart start racing.
“Want to come in?” I ask softly. He nods and I open the door. We go in and I lay on the bed. We had changed after we got home. He comes over and lays on the bed. I move into his arms and he wraps one around my waist and the other one under my head. I look up at him. He smiles back. I move my hand to his cheek. “You are the most important person in my life.” I say softly. He leans in and kisses me softly. I kiss him softly back and then we pull back. I notice that he is blushing and I know that I am. I close my eyes and snuggle into him.
I wake up the next morning to an empty bed. I frown and lay on my back. Maybe it was all a dream. I hear my door open and I sit up. I see Mycroft coming in with a tray full of food and drinks. “What is this?” I ask.
Mycroft looks up and frowns. “I was gonna wake you up. I didn’t want you to wake up with an empty bed.” He comes over and sets the tray down.
I grin and hug him. “Thank you”
He hugs me back and kisses my head. “Are you mad that you woke up to an empty bed?” He asks when we pull apart.
“No Croft. I was disappointed because I thought it was all a dream but you made up for it. I am touched.” I say and take a piece of bacon.
He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Well that is what all those men do in those stupid… what did you call them?” He looks away in thought. “Oh! Rom coms.” I laugh and move to him. “What did I say it wrong?” He asks.
I shake my head and move onto of his lap. “Nope. You said it right. I never expected you to be watching those. I really just thought you were pretending to make me happy.”
“I was at first but they aren’t horrible.” He says and wraps his arms around me.
I giggle and grab a piece of bacon and feed it to him. He eats it and we lay down. We eat and talk about nothing of importance. We lay in bed and just look up at the ceiling. “You know it can’t be like this always.” Mycroft says.
“Of course. I wouldn’t want to change you.” I say and look over at him.
He smiles and we get up and Mycroft leaves to change. I get changed into some jeans, a red Doublju Women V contrast Color Shirring Neckline Tunic Top, red Minnetonka Cally Slipper, and a red clutch. I look at myself in the mirror and smile. I needed to start dressing like I wanted to impress someone and not like a slob. I feel my phone vibrate and I pull it out. New text message.
We are heading to Scotland Yard if you want to meet us. JW
I smile and head out of my room. I notice Mycroft sitting at the table and I go over. “Can I get a ride to Scotland Yard on your way to work?” I ask.
“How do you know I was going to work?” He asks. “Maybe I was going to steal you away somewhere romantic.”
I laugh and kisses his head. “It is Thursday and I know for a fact it would kill you to miss a day of work.”
He sighs and looks at me. “You know me too well.” I smile and start walking to the car. He follows me.
We get to Scotland Yard and I turn to him. “I think we should keep this from Sherlock.” We say at the same time. I blink and laugh. “Why do you think we should do that?” I ask.
“He would think that I was stealing you away.” Mycroft says.
“Since I was never his, I would disagree, but since I know Sherlock I agree.” I say.
“What about you? Why do you want to keep this a secret?” He asks me.
“He is on a case that could harm a number of people. I don’t want to chance anything.” I tell him.
“Oh so Sherlock isn’t investigating away?” He mocks John. I laugh and shake my head. He smiles and leans in and kisses me softly. He moves a hand to my cheek and I move one of my hands to the back of his head as I kiss back. We move away at the same time and I smile.
“That will be fun to do. But later. I have to go to the boys and you have to be the government.” I say. He kisses me once more and smile.
“True. I’ll talk to you later Ardaigh.” I smile and get out of the car. I wave at it as it leaves. I smile and rush inside. I go to Greg’s office and see Sherlock at the window, Greg at his desk, and John in the chair opposite side of Greg’s desk.
“But what was the point? Why would anyone do this?” Greg asks.
“Oh – I can’t be the only person in the world that gets bored.” Sherlock says and looks at me. He frowns. “You are too happy.”
I go into the office and sit down. “I’m not happier than I was yesterday.” I say and smile at John and Greg. Sherlock opens his mouth to say something as the pink phone beeps a message alert. John and I turn to him.
“You have one new message.” The voice alert says.
As Sherlock walks towards Lestrade’s desk, the phone sounds the Greenwich pips again, but this time there are three short pips and one long one.
“Four pips.” John says.
“First test passed, it would seem. Here’s the second.” Sherlock says. Guess I missed Sherlock solving the first case. He shows a new photograph to the us. It’s a close-up of a car with its driver’s door open and the number plate clearly visible. John and Lestrade get up to take a closer look, and I stay sitting. “It’s abandoned, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’ll see if it’s been reported.” Greg says.
As he picks up his phone, Sergeant Donovan comes to the office holding another phone. “Freak, it’s for you.” She says. I glare at her and she rolls her eyes. Sherlock walks over to the door and takes the phone from her. John sits down again and looks at me.
“Have fun last night?” He asks me.
“A blast.” I say and smiles. I get up and go out to where Sherlock is standing. John follows me.
“And you’ve stolen another voice, I presume.” Sherlock asks. “Who are you?” He asks. “What’s that noise?”
Greg comes out. “We’ve found it.” He says and starts to head out. Sherlock pockets the phone and follows Greg. I sigh and John and I follow Sherlock.
We go to a river, the police have arrived at a large open space where the car was found. Forensics officers in protective clothing are working on the car as Lestrade leads Sherlock towards it. John, Donovan, and I are walking along behind them.
“The car was hired yesterday morning by an Ian Monkford. Banker of some kind; City boy. Paid in cash.” Greg explains. “Told his wife he was going away on a business trip, but he never arrived.”
As Sherlock and Greg reach the passenger door of the car, Sally turns to John and me. “You’re still hanging round him.” She says to John.
“Yeah, well…” John says and shrugs.
“Opposites attract, I suppose.” Donovan says.
“No, we’re not…” John tries to explain. I cover up my laugh with a cough.
“You should get yourself a hobby – stamps, maybe. Model trains. Safer.” She says and goes by Greg and Sherlock. I feel my phone go off. It was Molly asking if I could cover for her today. I text her back and tell her I could.
“John, I have to go into work. I’ll text you when I’m done.” I tell him. He nods and I go off.
The next morning I come out of my bedroom to the boys getting their coats on. They turn to me and I wave. “We are going to breakfast. You coming?” John asks. I nod and get my coat on. We get to a café and I sit by Sherlock on one side and John sits on the other. John was eating a full breakfast and has a mug of tea. I only had a cup of coffee. Sherlock didn’t have anything. He was drumming his fingers impatiently on the table.
“Feeling better?” Sherlock asks John.
“Mmm. You realise we’ve hardly stopped for breath since this thing started?” John says and eats another forkful of food, then looks thoughtful. “Has it occurred to you ...?”
“Probably.” Sherlock interrupts.
“No – has it occurred to you that the bomber’s playing a game with you? The envelope; breaking into the other flat; the dead kid’s shoes – it’s all meant for you.” John offers.
“Yes, I know.” Sherlock says with a slight smile.
“Is it him, then? Moriarty?” I ask.
“Perhaps.” Sherlock says. The pink phone beeps a message alert. Sherlock switches it on and it sounds two short Greenwich pips followed by the longer tone, and a photograph of a smiling middle-aged woman appears on the screen. “That could be anybody.”
“Well, it could be, yeah. Lucky for you, I’ve been more than a little unemployed.” John says and I frown.
“How d’you mean?” Sherlock asks.
“Lucky for you, Mrs Hudson and I watch far too much telly.” John explains and stands up and walks over to the counter. Smiling at the woman behind the counter, he picks up a remote control and switches on the small television hung on the wall. He switches channels a couple of times until he finds what he wants. The woman from the photograph is on the screen, partway through her make-over show. She is gesturing to someone just offscreen. “Thank you, Tyra! Doesn’t she look lovely, everybody, now?” Connie says. The pink phone rings. “Anyway, speaking of silk purses and sows’ ears ...”
Sherlock picks up the phone and answers it. “Hello?” Sherlock answers. I turn and look at him. Sherlock listens to the person on the phone. Sherlock and I look at John as he sits down. “Why are you doing this?”
Sherlock lowers the phone and shakes his head at John, then drops the phone onto the table as he turns to look at the TV. “... and I see you’re back to your bad habits.” Connie on the TV says. As the footage continues, a voiceover replaces her voice and a news headline at the bottom of the screen reads: Make-over Queen Connie Prince dead at 48. “... continuing into the sudden death of the popular TV personality, Connie Prince. Miss Prince, famous for her make-over programmes, was found dead two days ago by her brother in the house they shared in Hampstead ...” the news reader says.
We go to the morgue and I groan. I was just here for work. I didn’t want to be back already. Greg and the boys are looking at Connie Prince’s body. I was sitting at the table and playing with my phone.
We go back home later. I lay down on the couch when Sherlock steps over me to pin things on the wall. I ignore him and soon he is finished. He starts pacing back and forth in front of the sofa. Greg was standing by. “Connection, connection, connection. There must be a connection.” Sherlock says under his breath. He stops and gestures towards various spots on the display on the wall as he speaks. “Carl Powers, killed twenty years ago. The bomber knew him; admitted that he knew him. The bomber’s iPhone was in stationery from the Czech Republic. First hostage from Cornwall; the second from London; the third from Yorkshire, judging by her accent. What’s he doing – working his way round the world? Showing off?” The pink phone rings and he takes it out of his pocket. Sherlock looks at Lestrade for a moment, then switches the phone off, puts it back in his pocket and raises his hands to his mouth in the prayer position, concentrating on the wall in front of him.
I get up and yawn. “I am going to take a nap.” I tell the boys.
They ignore me and I shrug. I go to my bedroom and sleep. I wake up and no one is home. I shrug and smile. “House to myself.” I say and turn on some music. I grin and dance along with it and sing my head off. After an hour of it, I get a phone call. I see that it is Mycroft and smile. I try to control my breathing and answer. “H-Hello.” I says.
“Hello. What are you up to?” He asks me.
“Oh nothing much. Chilling at home alone.” I say.
“Yes your dance moves are getting better.” He says. I groans and look around for the cameras.
“Really Croft? You have the placed bugged?” I ask.
“Of course I do and if you want access to the book store, you will keep them there and not tell Sherlock about this.” He says.
I sigh and sit down. “Fine.” I laugh.
“What is so funny?” He asks.
“I’m talking to my boyfriend about cameras he has put in my flat, which is also his brother’s flat and am getting bride with a book store. That is so not normal.” I say and laugh.
“Boyfriend?” I hear Mycroft say softly.
“Shit. I didn’t…. er, I mean…” I trail off.
He laughs softly. “I never thought I would be anyone’s boyfriend.”
I smile softly. “Well you are better than a boyfriend. You are my Croft.” I say.
“Your Croft.” He repeats. I can hear the smile in his voice. I yawn again. “Get some sleep.”
“I just got some.” I argue.
“I guess not enough. I will call tomorrow, if you are good.” He says.
“Night Croft.” I say softly.
“Night Ardaigh.” He says softly.