Floating Masterpieces

Scraps of work that have never been finished and may never be complete...


6. A Study In Curiosity

Mycroft sat across from Sherlock his umbrella across his lap, the usual stubborn silence filled the air, Sherlock on the other hand was looking across at his violin which was perched on the window sill, “Before you do,” Mycroft began as he stood up hesitantly pointing towards the violin, “Can you take a look at this case.” Silence. Ripping his gaze away from the violin, Sherlock glanced down at the file flicking through a couple pages and then looked up at his elder blood brother who loomed over him with a frustrated look on his face. “Why did you miss your dentist appointment, brother dear?” asked Sherlock putting the file on his ridiculously messy desk whilst smirking slightly at the use of his brother’s beloved phrase; “So will you take the case, brother dear?” insisted Mycroft again, looking slightly sheepish after repeating his brother’s just used sentence ender. Stubborn.

Sherlock paused, “I fear we may be having two different conversations…” Mycroft instantly rolled his eyes and sat back down folding his umbrella over his lap once more. “How did you know I missed my dentist appointment?” questioned Mycroft as he watched his younger blood brother take the violin from the window sill and place it upon his left knee, his usual spot. Smirking slightly Sherlock replied, “You keep twitching slightly and rubbing your tongue around your cheek and the quiver in jaw bone is obviously a sign of discontent with your mouth. So simple a baby could notice it, and you are very keen to keep your teeth in order so you would have made an appointment as soon as you noticed it. There is a little wrinkle below your mouth where you’ve felt this pain before so it has been happening for a while therefore you made an appointment and missed it. Obvious. Now why?” Sherlock began to pluck the strings of the violin in a harmonious tune. Mycroft stood up once more and in doing so heard Sherlock stop playing and sighed in relief, “I missed my appointment because I was busy Sherlock, it’s what people who have a job are!” The atmosphere grew slightly colder as the Holmes brothers became more defensive.

Quickly, Sherlock’s face contorted with confusion, “I have a job Mycroft, although you seemed set on keeping me away from it with your minor national emergency requests.” Sighing, Mycroft glared down at his brother, “Sherlock you have a job not of your own accord but because John Watson has a financial mind un-like yourself, who seems content to drift through life with no money,” Mycroft folded back a piece of his hair behind his ear and rubbed his cheek again. The pain was growing. “It was the second cousin Frederick,” stated Sherlock as Mrs Hudson came through the door and looked in shock at the mess that was piled up around the room; not an uncommon reaction to seeing Sherlock’s flat.

Mrs Hudson yelped in a somewhat startled way and then put her hands and her hips and said in a motherly like tone, “Oh, Sherlock! Why can’t you keep this place tidy, all I do is clean it up for you. Wish John would come back; he always kept this flat clean.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, he stood up and looked around twirling on the spot, “It’s for a case Mrs Hudson, now Mycroft, Frederick came in through the back and stabbed his aunt with the knife in his hand then bleached it and returned it dipped in Kevin’s blood which he had recently donated to the hospital as he was working as an intern for three weeks before this accident and as Kevin donated the blood two weeks before. He was able to get it. Therefore committing the crime and sealing the blame on someone else. A very good plan… Almost worked.” Shaking her head, Mrs Hudson sighed and began picking up bits of paper and books which lay thrown across the room, “Motive?” asked Mycroft leaning on his umbrella and flinching slightly and then rubbing his cheek once more.

“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Sherlock sitting back down in his chair, Mycroft sighed as Sherlock picked up his violin and held it under his chin his bow poised to play, “I suppose so, brother dear. I suppose so. Good day Mrs Hudson.” Mycroft waved towards Mrs Hudson with his hat and then placed it on his head and walked out of the flat an exhausted look on his face. Sherlock began to play a Christmas tune on the violin and as he did so Mycroft began to walk faster holding his cheek in pain. 

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