AN: The next, very untimely installment, of my 365-Day Writing Challenge is here. Thanks for reading!
Day 5 – Speed
As it turned out, at least according to Mycroft and his sources, Sherlock had been working on behalf of the government throughout the fiasco with Moriarty. The detective had been recruited by certain officials; MI6 was hinted at but never implicated outright, to attract the interest of Jim Moriarty and other members of the criminal element. The government, of course, had always been aware that Richard Brook was an obvious lie introduced by a gullible media onto an unwitting (moronic) public. While it was not outwardly said by the attractive and yet official looking presenter, who was tasked with reintroducing Sherlock at the very dull press conference that Mycroft had forced him to attend, the opinion of the people in the know was that the media, and specifically the reporter who first ran the story, were all unmitigated idiots with not a single journalistic leg to stand on.
It should have been more satisfying, Sherlock thought, the speed at which Mycroft was able to turn him from a disgraced, dead man into a triumphant returning hero, but really he was just tired. All he wanted to do was get John and go home. Or go home and get John to come home. He would accept either outcome. Then the cases would come and he wouldn't have to think about the time when he was gone and the things that he had done to make sure that none of Moriarty's people would be able to hurt his people.
But there were questions that needed to be answered. Not that Sherlock was allowed to answer any questions. In the very brief, before-hand preparation for the press conference it was decided that Sherlock was to simply sit still and attempt to look as un-sociopathic and dangerous as possible while the young official hosting the conference would take all questions.
Which was a good thing because the questions were beyond boring: Where was Moriarty now? How long had Sherlock been working for the government? Why was the 'Richard Brook' story allowed to perpetuate? Was Sherlock happy to be back in London? What were his plans for the future now?
Why didn't they ask him what his favorite colour was and what footie league he followed?
It took all of his willpower not to roll his eyes and slouch back in his chair.
But Mycroft was watching and as much as it pained Sherlock to admit (really, truly hurt him) his older brother had done him a very large favor. It was no small task to do what Mycroft had done for him and he would spend the rest of his life paying him back for it. He may as well start by not intentionally ruining the well thought-out presentation.
Afterwards, when questions had been answered sufficiently enough the brothers stood together on a small terrace and smoked.
"The assassins are all dead." Mycroft breathed out a stream of smoke.
Sherlock said nothing because there was no point. If the assassins hadn't all been dead he wouldn't have been there.
Mycroft was unperturbed by the lack of response. "All who were of importance in his organization are being held for questioning. I doubt any of them will ever see freedom. The underlings have been left in place for the most part. They will still go about their work never knowing that their new bosses are all on our payroll."
"What is your point Mycroft, beside the joy of hearing yourself talk?" Sherlock asked sourly even though he knew exactly where his brother was going with this.
The older man smiled, "I must say, Sherlock, I am very impressed with your work. You did a splendid job, and on behalf of Queen and Country too."
Sherlock scoffed, "You know that 'Queen and Country' had no influence on my behavior; as if I care about that!"
Mycroft continued as if he had not heard, "I shiver to think of what you could do if you really did have all the resources that I can offer at your beck and call. Sherlock, we could accomplish so much together."
"I don't have the time, or the inclination, to play rulers of the world with you, Mycroft. I have to get back to the work."
"Oh yes, the work, tell me of your plans." He was smiling, "I suppose you will be expecting DI Lestrade to start requesting your help again? Have you spoken to him?" At Sherlock's expression Mycroft tsked at him, "Dear brother, please tell me that your DI will not be finding out that you are alive through this evening's news?" Mycroft sighed and stamped out his cigarette, "You are not a very popular person at the Yard. I would not count on getting many cases from them. Have you resolved your situation with Dr. Watson?"
Sherlock flinched, and recalled quickly succinctly why he hated his brother, "There is no situation with John. Everything will be fine. He just needs some time to adjust. Not that it is any of your business."
Mycroft strode past him back into the building but stop, his hand on the door, "Sherlock, everything concerning you is my business."