I have special killing skills

Are drugs corrupting you? "

"Don't compare me to a poisonous bug, Jim." Gritting his teeth, Charles seemed to be enduring the pain, and squeezed out the words through his teeth.

"But your reaction is very similar to that of a poisonous bug." Moriarty still didn't let go of his wrist, holding it tightly.

Charles no longer had the strength to argue, his painful expression became distorted, he could feel obvious changes in his body, his legs started to go numb, he didn't feel any sensation, and his waist was in severe pain.

"You are in trouble, Charles, maybe you would like me to help you." Jim Moriarty, who has always been understanding and helpful, said.

Charles didn't care what the man's heart was, and directly touched his coat with his arm. Moriah reached into his collar, touched a pocket from the inside, and took out a syringe.

Inside is a brown-yellow potion.

"Give me..." Charles' voice had already started to weaken, but his eyes became brighter because of the moisture.

Moriarty glanced at him, and didn't give him the syringe in his hand. Instead, he pressed Charles' forearm against the armrest of the chair, and inserted the needle of the syringe into his skin.

Charles didn't seem to like the scene, so he turned his head away, a gesture of defiance that Moriarty took to heart.

Calmly pushing the potion into the man's body, Moriarty pulled out the needle and put the syringe in his pocket with a calm expression, as if he didn't think there was anything wrong with taking it by hand.But Charles didn't have the strength to pursue it now, because he was panting heavily and sweating profusely, and he couldn't devote any energy to Moriarty at all.

Moriarty helped Charles up, lowered his head slightly, and said softly, "Charles, my dear friend, maybe you'd like to tell me what happened, and I'd like to help you." When he saw Charles' distrustful eyes , Moriarty smiled, "You helped me once, didn't you? I just want to return your favor."

Charles stared at him for a few seconds, and finally let out a soft breath: "You have to promise, take me to see Eric."

"Of course." Moriarty said with a smile.

Charles got rid of Moriarty's support, tried his best to sit upright, and then said slowly after Moriarty sat opposite him: "I was hit in the spine and lost the ability to walk. In order to walk, I have to inject this A potion, that's all."

Moriarty tilted his head, obviously dissatisfied with such a simple explanation, but this does not mean that he will not observe: "You lost your ability, is it because of this?"

Charles' eyes became sharp for an instant, but when he met Moriarty's concerned gaze, he tightened his lips, and finally nodded.He smiled self-deprecatingly: "Eric was originally imprisoned at the bottom of the Pentagon. There was no metal there, and there was no possibility for him to escape, but he left. I became a useless person. As long as I use my ability, I will Become like just now, abandoned by him, and also by my sister..."

"I will help you." Moriarty said, "You and Eric are both my saviors. Without you, I would have died outside the battlefield."

"I don't believe you, Jim." Charles closed his eyes tiredly.

Moriarty looked at him, and suddenly stretched out his hand and lightly pressed Charles' wrist: "I believe that you are weaker than ordinary people now, so it is easy for me to subdue you, so why should I lie to you? It's no good for me."

Charles fell silent, as if evaluating Moriarty's words.

In the end, he really didn't find out why Moriarty lied to him.

"I'm going to cause you trouble." Charles, who has regained his senses, is a man who is easy to speak. unimportant.

Moriarty looked at Charles with a smile, and said with some excitement: "Charles, I think you will like my family. I want to introduce Moran to you. He is very nice and has many friends. They There is something unique about it, and trust me, your life will never be boring."

Charles obviously resisted knowing people, but he still didn't refute, supporting his body and trying to stand up.Moriarty supported him and they walked up the stairs together.

However, shrewd little Jim just thought in his heart:

I helped you, how could it be of no benefit to me?Just because you can hold Eric firmly, this is enough.

And your injury... Oh, I'm afraid Loki can't count on it. He's faking amnesia now, and I'm afraid he has no time to help, but wizards can even make birth potions, so the treatment shouldn't be a problem for them.

This deal, I made my own money!

☆、103·Perm and curly hair

Charles didn't tell anyone about his visit to England this time, not even his most trusted Hank.

The purpose of his coming here is not to capture Eric under the Pentagon again. In fact, Charles also knows that it is really difficult for him who has lost his ability to do this.But the reason why he took the risk to come to England was that he wanted to ask Eric one thing in front of him.

Why abandoned him, he needs a reason.

The pain in his body subsided a lot, and Charles followed Rocky to Baker Street.

Here, the house that was blown up by Moran himself without leaving any tiles has been rebuilt. Moriarty had asked Parker to buy it a long time ago, and it was considered Moriarty's private property.

Moriarty wants to use Charles to force Magneto King Eric back, and what he wants is this amulet. In fact, the safest way is to let Charles live with him.But thinking about Moran's accidental injury, Moriarty thought it would be better not to provoke him, and it was rare for little Jim to find out.

Since he couldn't take it home, Moriarty thought about it and finally brought him to Baker Street.

Although the monitoring here is terrible, it can also make Eric feel jealous and won't break in easily. After all, Mycroft has been fooled once and suffered a loss once, but he won't come again for a second time. In front of Ford, Eric may not be able to take advantage of it.

Moriarty opened the door, smiled and raised his hand inside: "Dear friend, please come in."

Charles pursed his lips and walked into the room.After his spinal injury, Charles didn't like to leave the house, not even his bedroom.His association with alcohol and drugs has seriously depleted his physical and mental health, but fortunately, his mind has not been dulled.

Smart people may observe and think in slightly different ways, but they can all come to the right conclusions.Charles noticed unusual things about the street—such as the 1.1-meter hidden camera and the taxis that were always parked along the street—but he could also tell that the house was safe and untrammeled.

"Thank you." Charles thanked him in a low voice, and walked in.

The house was clean, and Moriarty called the cleaning company regularly.Charles looked at the large floor-to-ceiling windows and the house across the street that the windows faced, without saying a word.

Moriarty entered the kitchen with an unknown song, put the kettle on the stove and started it up, and while waiting for the water to boil, he used the glass of the cabinet to observe Charles in the living room behind him.

The man was sitting on the sofa, his large coat and soft sofa made him look thinner, and his frowning brows seemed to never be untied.

After brewing black tea with boiling water, Moriarty came out with the tea, put one of the cups on the coffee table opposite Charles and said with a smile: "You always look tired, it's not good, my dear Charles, you need some breath of life right now."

Charles picked up the teacup, and didn't have any emotional fluctuations because of Moriarty's words, but responded in a light tone: "That's not important."

"No, it's very important." Moriarty seemed to confirm his words with a nod and strengthened his tone, "Eric is doing well now, he snatched my lover - literally - Then forced my lover to turn against me, hey, do you know his expression at that time? The arrogance made me want to punch him."

Charles raised his eyelids and glanced at Moriarty: "You can't beat him."

Moriarty shrugged. "Yes, I can't, but that doesn't mean I don't want to bully him."

Charles raised his eyebrows at Moriarty's words.

"So you have to live well, Charles. You look decadent like a little girl who has been teased and abandoned. Believe me, if Eric sees you, he will laugh at you."

Moriarty's words made Charles' eyebrows twitch violently. Reason told him that the man who could manipulate a steel heart would not have the slightest emotion at all, but Charles inevitably followed Moriarty's words. Go Lenovo.

If Eric really saw my downcast look, what would he say?

Hard to imagine.

Moriarty looked at Charles' face and felt that his suggestion had worked, so he spread his hands: "I think you need a new suit now, and then go for a haircut. Speaking of which, my friend, where did you get your ironing?" Hair? Doesn't look like much."

In the end, Charles couldn't hold back his rebuttal: "I've always had curly hair."

Moriarty blinked, and suddenly realized: "It doesn't matter that you used so much hairspray before, that's why. Hey, why don't you try shaving your hair? I think it will be good too."

Charles just turned his head away and didn't look at him. If he continued to chat with this person about his hair, even if he didn't get shaved, Charles felt that his hair would fall out of his anger.

================================================== ==================================

After settling in Charles, I called the shop I like to make clothes and asked them to send a few sets of suits according to my size and make some casual clothes.

They are about the same height, and now that Charles is extremely thin, they are about the same size, so the step of tailoring clothes can be saved.

After everything was arranged, Moriarty left Baker Street and did not take care of the good neighbors.

After all, Sherlock and Watson are probably overwhelmed by the upcoming meeting with their parents. Rocky is having a great time playing with his brother now, and I'm afraid he won't get any good treatment after he goes there.

Perhaps it would be a good idea to visit Mrs. Hudson when she came back, for Mrs. Hudson's cookies were pretty good, you know.

After returning home, he quietly climbed into bed and rubbed himself into Moran's arms. Moriarty closed his eyes.

Early the next morning, he was awakened by a knock on the door.

Moran hasn't woken up yet. This is a rare thing. After all, Captain Moran has always been a model of going to bed early and getting up early. He has his own schedule and implements it meticulously like a precision instrument.

Ignoring the seemingly endless knocking on the door, Moriarty carefully lay on Moran's body, put his ear on the man's heart, felt the heart beating powerfully inside, and unconsciously heaved a sigh of relief, then lightly He lightly bit Moran's lips, nodded in satisfaction after seeing the obvious teeth marks, got up, put on his coat, and walked out wearing fluffy slippers.

Walking down the stairs slowly, even though you knocked on the door more and more hurriedly, it didn't make Moriarty's expression change.Yawning, he pulled the small metal piece on the door mirror and looked out, muttering in his heart while looking.

My door mirror is made of tempered glass, which can stop even bullets. I really don’t know what those people who use ordinary glass think, are they not afraid that someone will poke it in with an awl when they put their eyes on it?

Moriarty, whose persecution paranoia was getting worse, stretched out his hand and scratched his cheek. When he saw Thor standing outside, he blinked, then put on the most friendly smile and opened the door.

"Hey, it's nice to see you so early in the morning, Thor, don't you think I don't need a good night's sleep at all?" I saw Moriarty's strange expression at the moment.

Thor scratched his head, although it was late, but looking at Moriarty's attire, he knew that this person was lying in bed.Smiling awkwardly, Thor said, "I'm sorry, Jim."

Moriarty shrugged and didn't say anything more, but leaned against the door frame and said, "You don't work in the tavern, what are you doing at my house?"

The eager expression on Thor's face did not relax in the slightest. He looked at Moriarty and said, "Jim, someone lives in your house!"

Moriarty knew without thinking that he was referring to Charles on Baker Street, so he nodded: "Yes, he is my friend, I asked him to come and stay."

"But that person was invited by Loki to my house, and he's not going to leave yet!"

Moriarty was taken aback for a moment, and then his expression became a little strange: "Charles...what are you doing?"

Only now did Thor know the name of the man with the half-long curly hair. He pursed his mouth, he was clearly a tall man, but he looked like a child: "I went out for a walk with Loki this morning, and we met ... Well, Charles. Loki invited him to come and sit at the house, and Charles didn't leave my house until I left."

Moriarty blinked.

In his impression, although Charles had some cute tricks, he was a very decent person in the final analysis, but he was not the kind that Moriarty hated.Charles is neither the type of Lestrade who wants to drive out all criminals, nor the kind of control freak like Mycroft. He has his own bottom line and dignity. Bright means.

Charles was smart and likable, and who knows how Eric would get over him.

Realizing that he had strayed off topic, Moriarty coughed twice: "Thor, I assure you, Charles is a very nice person, he is kind, intelligent, and has a good demeanor."

"But he is also very beautiful." Thor frowned and whispered.

This sentence made Moriarty show a malicious smile: "Hey, big man, are you jealous?"

Thor was taken aback for a moment, then looked at Moriarty in horror, turned around and ran to the bar not far away without saying hello, and never came out again.

"I'm really a good person who helps others, hehe." Moriarty thought so, yawned again and turned to go upstairs, ready to go to sleep again.

As for Charles' friendship with Loki... well, what does that have to do with him.

☆、104·Light yellow tie

Watson couldn't take the matter of meeting his parents calmly. In other words, he was very nervous, very nervous.

Even though there were many terrible relationships in the past, and girlfriends spread across three continents—forgive the heart of a veteran who longs for love—but the only one who has really reached the point of marriage is Marie. The other party is an orphan, so she can naturally skip meeting her parents. One step, and his proposal was ruthlessly interrupted by Sherlock.

Although Sherlock had told him about it a few days ago, Watson still felt uncomfortable.You know, this is not something that can be taken lightly, at least for Watson, just what tie to wear gave him a headache for a full hour.

Sherlock sat on the bed, with Watson's laptop on his lap, typing on the keyboard with his fingertips freely, and cracked Watson's blog password in just 30 seconds.Incidentally, he was pleased with Watson's change of status from "single" to "dating".

Hearing Watson rummaging through boxes and boxes, Sherlock didn't raise his head: "Give it up, John, that tie is very inappropriate."

Dr. Watson, who was frowning and putting on his tie, turned his head in surprise, and the half-tie light gold tie was hanging loosely around his neck: "How do you know, Sherlock, you didn't even look up!"

"Red shirt, golden tie, oh my dear Watson, what is your little head thinking?" With a sneer, Sherlock showed his mocking meaning without reservation, but only the corners of his mouth moved and the rest of his face moved. The unchanged expression made Watson feel the most naked ridicule.

Annoyed, Watson untied his tie and threw it on the bed, then strode forward, grabbed the computer Sherlock was holding, closed it with a snap, and stared at him with a frown: "Hey, Sherlock , I don't think it's good for you to laugh at me, and don't use my computer casually."

"What's yours is mine." Sherlock looked at Watson, stood up, took a step forward, and looked down slightly at the man with golden brown hair in front of him.

Watson took a step back in fright from this very purposeful action, but immediately, the good doctor stared back not to be outdone: "That's really nice to say, ha, who told you that!"

The corner of Sherlock's mouth curled up, showing a half-smile expression: "Support each other, regardless of you and me, promise to God."

Watson was taken aback for a moment, and then remembered that this was a passage he wrote in his personal blog.

The time to write it down was the night when Sherlock broke into the restaurant and told him that he would marry him after being punched by himself.

Everyone gets excited, right?Dr. Watson will also have some urge to talk.

"You peeked at my blog again!"

"Oh come on John, even a monkey can guess your password, 'MySherlock', I like it very much, but next time, please add an underscore in the middle to make it more difficult."

The fist tightened and loosened. If it hadn't been for the thought of going to see Sherlock's parents in a while, Watson's fist would have made close contact with this person's face, and he could precisely avoid the high cheekbones.

Sherlock didn't seem to feel the danger coming at all. He took the laptop from Watson's hand and didn't open it, but put it aside.After taking off the dark blue silk pajamas, revealing the dark purple shirt and straight suit pants, Watson's eyes seemed to be glued to this person.

Among the people Watson met, there seemed to be a lot of guys who liked to wear suits, Mycroft, Moriarty, Rocky, and Sherlock.

Unlike the other three, Sherlock appears to be wearing one size smaller than his normal size.Watson was well aware that this man did not want to look so thin, that he had well-defined, curvaceous muscles—yes, the good doctor had not only seen but felt them, and was sure of their authenticity—so his clothes would warrant There is room to wrap his body.But the clothes Sherlock chose, from shirts to suits and trousers, didn't have a lot of room.

Usually, it is not obvious to have a coat or a coat to hide, but now, it is so conspicuous.

The third button of the purple shirt was tightly stretched, and the shape of the beautiful pectoral muscles was outlined in detail. The suit and trousers wrapped the legs, especially the slightly raised buttocks, which always made Watson's eyes unconsciously look at him. Glance there.

Obviously it looks meticulous, but in the eyes of a good doctor, there is always a trace of abstinence.

Out of nowhere, Watson asked, "Who bought your clothes?"

Sherlock, who was impatiently pawing back and forth in the closet, replied casually: "Mycroft, he will send someone to help me change the closet at regular intervals. If you pay attention, you will find that every month at midnight on NO.12, there will be someone Put a package in the storage room on the first floor, and I'll put them in the closet next morning, John, watch."

Watson apparently never noticed this, even though he was alert enough.

Even if you leave the battlefield, you can't relax your vigilance. He warned himself in his heart, and Watson continued: "But don't you think that those clothes are a little... small?"

"Mycroft likes me in it, and I don't bother to buy it."

So, this is actually a personal interest of Mycroft?Watson was a little speechless, thinking that the man who always held a black umbrella with an inscrutable face would think about how to "dress up" Sherlock, and Watson felt something was wrong.

Perhaps Sherlock fills the void where Mycroft doesn't have a toy?

"And what about the clothes you changed into?"

"Throwing it away, donating it will lead to unnecessary loss of information."

The corners of Watson's eyes twitched. Sometimes the world of the rich is really confusing.

================================================== ============================

Sherlock took out a shirt from the closet, and beckoned to Watson: "Come and try."

They are living together now, and they share a wardrobe, but it is obvious that Sherlock is holding a shirt that belongs to Watson. Even if the good doctor does not know the style of this dress, he does not know when he bought it, but You can know where it belongs just by looking at the size.

Walking over, Watson took the shirt and touched it with his hands.This is obviously not cheap, the good doctor likes cotton clothes, but he will not refuse better taste - after all, he is walking by a mobile hanger - just feel the clothes Great value.

Looking at the sign with some doubts, Watson immediately widened his eyes.

OMG, this one could buy all my clothes!

"Where does it come from!" exclaimed John Frugal Housekeeper Watson.

Sherlock waved his hand indifferently: "Starting from this month, Mycroft will also start sending you clothes, which is very good, we can cancel those boring shopping full of disgusting smells."

Even though he had experienced how much Mycroft doted on Sherlock from various aspects before, Watson never thought that that person would include himself.

Perhaps it was his blankness that made Sherlock impatient, the tall and thin man walked up to her in a few steps, reached out and started to unbutton his shirt.Watson stared blankly at the hands that were moving on his clothes. His fingers were clean and slender, with a little paleness. This was the result of frequent contact with chemicals. His nails were very neatly trimmed. This is what Watson helped him trim yesterday. There is a faint dark red mark on the wrist, which is Watson's protest of taking a bite out of his unlimited demands.

His cheeks were flushed, and the good doctor stretched out his hand to hold Sherlock's hand. Feeling the coldness of the man's fingers, he subconsciously tightened his hand to hold his hand in his own: "Okay, Sherlock, I think I can change it myself." .”

Sherlock didn't realize how much his good doctor had just thought about in his head, he just nodded, then let go of his hand, walked to the side and sat down, picked up his phone and started checking Twitter.

Watson was facing Sherlock, exhaled lightly, and then rubbed his face hard a few times.

John Watson, what are you thinking?Brace yourself, after all, that's a... fool who doesn't even know what he's doing.

This word made Watson bend his lips unconsciously, and the charm in his heart was also diluted a lot.He unbuttoned his half-unbuttoned shirt, and put on the one that Sherlock recommended to him.

The dark blue shirt seemed to fit tailor-made.It didn't have the small problem of Sherlock, and it was very comfortable. Watson looked in the mirror and felt that it was worthy of its price.

"What about the tie?" Watson turned to ask Sherlock's opinion.

Sherlock raised his head and pointed to the pale gold tie that Watson had just thrown aside: "This," the voice paused, "it fits your hair very well."

I don't know if it's because the atmosphere is too warm, Watson smiled unconsciously, Sherlock frowned a little incomprehensibly, but immediately Watson picked up his tie and started to tie it, and Sherlock stopped thinking about the meaning of that smile , Continue to browse Twitter with your head down.

Then, he snorted a little when he saw one of them.

"What's the matter?" Watson asked while straightening his collar.

"Lestrade is lamenting that he has no case in his hands." Sherlock said flatly.

"London is calm again. It's lucky." Watson looked back at Sherlock as if suddenly realizing something. "...Well, it's not very lucky."

"Can't he think that because of the bill signed by that stupid prime minister, the Scottish referendum will be held soon, and Mycroft, who has been missing for a long time, will be devastated, so the case in Lestrade's hands will become more and more serious. Is it less?"

Watson nodded unconsciously, but immediately, he asked, "Mycroft helped him finish all the cases?"

Sherlock snorted again: "Obviously, Mycroft's teeth are going to start hurting again recently."

Regarding the rivalry between the two brothers, Watson was noncommittal. Regarding the recent referendum, the good doctor also remained silent. After all, this is not something he can control.

It was safer to worry about sitting in the same car with Mycroft for an hour now.

Looking at his watch, Watson said, "Maybe we should go."

Sherlock stood up, put the phone in his pocket, put on his suit jacket, tied the dark blue scarf around his neck, then picked up the jacket hanging behind the door, shook it off and put it on.The hem of the coat drew a nice semicircle in midair.

Watson took a small basket from the table, which made Sherlock a little confused: "What is that?"

"Cookies, I asked Mrs. Hudson to make them." Meeting Sherlock's strange eyes, Watson rolled his eyes, "At least I shouldn't be empty-handed, although it's not a holiday, but... well, I just A little nervous!"

Sherlock didn't know how to comfort people, so he remained silent, but stretched his hand back as he walked down the stairs, and accurately grasped Watson's palm.

Clasping his fingers together instantly made Watson feel at ease.

He looked at Sherlock's back and smiled again, a warm and soft smile that Sherlock was not familiar with.

☆、105·The way home

For this homecoming, both Mycroft and Sherlock attached great importance to it from different angles.

The man representing the British government put aside the time spent wrangling with Scotland, and sat in the iconic black car waiting for his younger brother and his lover, while Sherlock didn't bring anything for entertainment. , not even the magnifying glass that he would hide in the cuff of his coat.

To go home is to abandon work, which is the consensus of the Holmes brothers.

Watson was not surprised that Mycroft would come, but when he saw Lestrade sitting next to Mycroft with an unhappy face when the window was rolled down, Watson unconsciously revealed Surprised emotion.

"I thought it was just for Mummy to meet John this time." Sherlock frowned, staring at Mycroft with folded hands.

The man who combed his hair meticulously had a pale complexion, obviously the impact of the previous prison life has not been completely eliminated, but the corners of his mouth have already put on a familiar stratagem, and that smile will always be in Sherlock's eyes So glaring: "In order not to surprise Mommy too much, I think it would be a good choice to go with Greg, and Greg doesn't have any work to be busy recently."

As soon as Lestrade was mentioned, he felt depressed. In fact, after he sent that tweet, someone ruthlessly pointed out that Mycroft was behind all the seemingly peaceful and prosperous events.

And it wasn't Sherlock who made the point—even though young Holmes always liked to pick on his older brother—but Jim Young, the consulting criminal whom Lestrade had been watching for so long without being able to get any evidence of him.

If it wasn't for scaring people, he would have blocked that black-haired kid who always gloats and fears that the world will not be chaotic!

Lestrade gritted his teeth angrily.

Mycroft seemed to sense Lestrade's displeasure. He reached out and held Lestrade's wrist. Of course, he used the shadow of the two bodies intertwined. He didn't want to lose his actions in front of Sherlock. The majesty of my brother.

But obviously, Sherlock doesn't care about these things. He glanced at Mycroft, then looked over the black car at another stretched black car not far behind, frowning slightly: "It seems that this This time we have other friends."

"Yes, they're just here for a ride, and I think you'll like them more than an hour's journey with me." Mycroft responded with a smile, but he didn't open the car door consciously.

Sherlock frowned slightly: "Don't make it sound like you've seen all my thoughts, Mycroft."

Mycroft mercilessly threw back a smirk: "My poor brother, your head has been paralyzed by emotions and has become unresponsive. You know, I am very tired, and I don't like to use another one. Arguing and bickering with you for hours, like it happens every Christmas, it makes me uncomfortable."

Sherlock's face turned very bad for a moment, because he could hear that his brother was telling him blatantly that it was not because of Sherlock's consideration that he was asked to sit in another car, but because Mike Roft hadn't thought about being with him at all.

But Watson raised his eyebrows, feeling a little emotional in his heart, it's really rare that Mycroft said these words so bluntly.Thinking about it from another angle, maybe Mycroft is really having a bad time recently, look at his pale face, he is no better than those poor little ones living in the hospital.

Sherlock ignored Mycroft and strode towards the car behind.

Just when Sherlock was out of sight, Lestrade, who had been silent for a long time, said, "It's not good for you to talk to him like this, Mike, Sherlock is a person with strong self-esteem, and he is very sensitive."

Mycroft pressed a button, and the car window went up automatically. He laughed when he heard Lestrade beside him say that, and generously held Lestrade's palm in his hand. Putting it in the palm of his hand, he put it on his lap, and tapped lightly on the back of Lestrade's hand with his slender fingers: "Don't worry, Greg, he will like the gift I gave him," The voice paused, and Mycroft continued, "And our relationship is already like this, we are all used to it."

It's not a good thing, isn't it? Lestrade is the only child in the family, but he also has some cousins, and when they get together, because of Lestrade's older age, gentle temper and fair personality, he always Will be the role of the king of children, and strictly abide by the things that many good brothers must do.

Humility, generosity, gentleness.

In his opinion, it would be best for Mycroft to treat Sherlock with this attitude, so as to ease the estrangement between the Holmes brothers.

But just thinking about Mycroft touching Sherlock's hair with a gentle smile on his face and calling him "little sweetheart" in his head, Lestrade shivered.

Oh, that was like a horror movie.

Mycroft did not continue the conversation on this topic, he looked up, looked at Anthea who was sitting in the front co-pilot, and said, "What time is it?"

"Nine ten, Boss." After a pause, Anthea continued, "There are four hours and fifty minutes left