Fic: The Case of the Birthday Party (Sherlock) Part 2
Title: The Case of the Birthday Party (Part 2)
Fandom: BBC Sherlock/Modernised Raffles
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, AJ Raffles, 'Bunny' Manders.
Rating: G
Summary: One party, two adversaries and a small fortune in gifts at stake. Also, cricket.
Warnings: Some mild drinking and language.
The room itself had a personal guard assigned to it, but the man wasn’t paying attention to the windows. It was freezing outside as they peeked in to look at the table piled with expensive gifts from various guests.
John could see what looked to be diamond cufflinks and matching tie pin, expensive leather looking bound journals and antique books that had been lovingly restored to good condition inside a glass case. They must have been first edition somethings.
“Sherlock... why are we looking through the windows at your brother’s gifts at... three in the morning?”
“Because sometime tomorrow, Raffles is going to attempt to steal them.”
He blamed the fact he hadn’t enough sleep for his total lack of reaction to that. “Righty-oh then.”
“He won’t be able to resist the opportunity. He’ll steal them. Maybe not everything, too much, but the smaller, more expensive items.”
“And why will he do this, Sherlock?”
“Because that’s what Raffles does, John. He steals. He prides himself on his ability to steal and not be caught. He’s never been caught because the police are idiots and people are deluded by his smile and wit. He’s a thief and he’s going to rob this party to prove to himself that no one can catch him. Not even me.” Sherlock’s face was dark.
“Hang on. You think he’s going to rob your brother as part of this ongoing feud you two have over which of you is smarter?”
“No,” Sherlock snapped. “It is not a feud. I am smarter and he knows it. It is a matter of whether he is more cunning and manipulative than I am astute and logical.” He looked back to the window. John kept staring at him.
Sherlock ducked, tugging him down sharply.
He hit the ground on his butt, wincing but not trying to stand. The guard must have looked in.
“This is, in many ways, the apogee of our encounters. He will rob my brother and I will have only until the end of this party to recover the goods and prove once and for all that AJ Raffles is not a gentleman cricketer but a gentleman thief, robbing his hosts.”
Watching Sherlock’s face, John concluded that rightly or wrongly, Sherlock completely believed his story. “You really think he’d try to rob your brother, with all this security, all these people and you in the house?”
“John, I think he won’t be able to resist it, even if it wasn’t planned before.”
They sat in silence for a moment longer.
“Well... this has been enlightening,” John said, standing up. “I’m going back to bed.”
“But we haven’t explored the kitchens yet!” Sherlock stood, trailing after John, silk robe billowing in the wind. “Or the patio from after the drinks gathering!”
“You can explore away. It’s cold. It’s dark. I’m tired. I’m going back to bed and I suggest you come inside before you start to give yourself hypothermia.”
“Jooohn.”
“No.” He opened the door and looked back. “We can poke around tomorrow all you want, but right now, it’s cold and dark and it’s going to rain. I’m going to bed.”
Sherlock huffed, stamped his foot and stomped back inside after John, sulking the entire way back to their rooms and throwing himself into the couch before grabbing his violin.
John put in his earplugs and went back to sleep.
*~*~*
Most people would wake up in a better mood the next day. Sherlock, having probably not slept, was still being sulky when a rather nice full English breakfast was delivered for each of them along with a note card explaining the plans for the day.
John sat in the armchair and enjoyed breakfast while reading over the neatly written card. Sherlock lay on the couch and poked holes in his food with a knife until he was seized with some mad idea that involved taking the plate into the bathroom and testing if various pieces would float or sink.
He didn’t worry about it. Even Sherlock couldn’t do any major damage with breakfast and water. He focused on the card so he’d know the plans for the day.
‘Day One Events
10 am: Guided nature walk of surrounding woodland.
Badminton on the lawn.
12 noon: Lunch on the terrace.
2 pm: Cricket match (places still available on the teams).
Afternoon tea served during.
6 pm: Dinner in the main hall. Formal wear.
8 pm: After dinner drinks.
Operatic soloist Miranda Florence performing.
10 pm: End of scheduled events.’
At the very bottom, written in a different hand was a personal note. ‘Please don’t feel obliged to attend anything, I understand if you need to occupy Sherlock’s limited attention. -Mycroft.’
John chuckled at the note and tucked the card into his pocket.
“What’s so amusing,” Sherlock asked.
“Your brother sent me a note, reminding me that all the scheduled events are voluntary.”
“Events,” Sherlock spat. “It’s all so very old school, like we’re back before the war, upper classes playing in the manor houses while the lowers tend out whims.”
“Says the man who doesn’t even make his own tea when he’s at home.”
“I don’t schedule play events and grand balls.”
“Or get his own dinner. Or buy groceries. Or get his phone out of his pocket.”
“Are you still on about that? My hands were busy on the microscope.”
“You were too lazy to get your phone out of your jacket pocket,” John sighed. “Are you done in there, I want a wash and shave.”
“No, I am not done. You will just have to work around me.”
He rolled his eyes. That would be the payback for refusing to indulge running about the house last night.
He got up out of his chair and headed into the bathroom, picking up his electric shaver. Months of physical therapy and months before of living in a desert had got him used to using it and he was very grateful right now as he half leaned over Sherlock to actually be able to see into the mirror.
Sherlock glared at him in the reflection but John ignored him, focusing on what he was doing instead. Then, thankfully, Sherlock uncurled from where he was hunched over the sink and breezed through to the bedroom to take over the couch again.
“Are you going to come with me on the nature walk, or spend all day in here sulking?”
“I don’t sulk.”
“Or spend all day in here refusing to interact with the general public.”
“They are not the general public. They are Mycroft’s guests, which puts them below the police and above a common criminal, and even that point is disputable with the likes of Raffles here.” Sherlock hung his head off the couch to look at John. “Why are you going on the nature walk?”
“Because the grounds around here look nice. It’s a change from the city and it’s spring and I haven’t seen the English landscape in Spring for a long time.” He turned off his shaver, running a hand over his face. “Are you going to come with me?”
“Maybe.”
John didn’t push it any further than that. Maybe was more than he had expected. “There’s a cricket match this afternoon.”
“Don’t tell me you want to play,” Sherlock groaned. “I am not playing cricket with you.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. And no, I’m not signing up. Not with my leg and shoulder.”
“You’re twice as healthy as most of these people, you’d probably do splendidly out there. Maybe Bunny will fawn over your playing like he does Raffles’.”
John came to the doorway, staring at Sherlock. “What?”
“You seemed rather enamoured of Bunny last night, especially the way he was fawning over you.” He leapt to his feet, sidling closer. “I’ve never met a real soldier before,” he said breathlessly, in remarkable mimicry and mockery of Bunny last night. “It’s very awe-inspiring Doctor Watson. John.” His hand stroked John’s upper arm.
“Stop it,” John hissed.
“It just, it makes me admire you ever so much more,” he sighed out, pressing close.
“Jealous,” he asked peevishly.
“Perish the thought,” Sherlock snapped, straightening up. “It was revolting watching him pander to your ego and you lapping it up like a starved man at a desert oasis.”
“Do you have a problem with people being nice to me? He’s a nice young man.” He stomped past Sherlock to the wardrobe, grabbing some clothes.
“He wasn’t being nice, he was sucking up to you. I wouldn’t be surprised if Raffles sent him specifically to suck up to you to wheedle you onto his side.”
“For God’s sake Sherlock!” He turned to the younger man. “Not everything in life is about getting one up on other people. Sometimes people are just genuinely nice! Not that you’d know anything about it.” He went back into the bathroom, slamming the door.
Sherlock was a dear friend, but he drove John absolutely nuts some days. He took a few calming breaths and then got changed, cleaning his teeth and brushing his hair a bit neater before stepping out.
Sherlock was standing there, dressed and pulling his scarf around his neck.
John raised an eyebrow.
“I’m coming on the walk. If I leave you alone you’re as likely to have a relapse and get left behind because you refuse to admit you’re having troubles.” He did up his coat. “So I’m coming with you.”
John smiled slightly. Whatever excuse Sherlock felt the need to give, he didn’t mind. It was as close to an apology as the other man was ever likely to come. He grabbed his own coat and pulled it on, opening the door for Sherlock and then following him out and towards the patio.
*~*~*
As it happened, no one else they really knew came on the walk. Sherlock got bored about five minutes into it and tugged on John’s arm, offering to show him the interesting sights, not the easily reached, over publicised views that the tour would be looking at.
And John could never resist when Sherlock offered to show him something more interesting.
They had branched off and through the forest, away from the carefully tended path and into the still wild areas. They saw some rabbits getting into the spring spirit, the first bluebells and foxgloves flowering in small glens where the trees were yet to cover with newly sprouted leaves.
Then they reached the old quarry.
Sherlock scrambled up the mostly concealed path like a mountain goat, all sure footing and graceful movements. There was clearly a childhood’s worth of muscle memory in climbing up that path. John followed more carefully, half walking and half climbing after his friend until he reached the top and Sherlock gave him a hand to his feet and gestured.
It was beautiful. Looking over the valley, a meandering creek and blue pond... well, maybe lake was closer, but lit by the bright Spring sun, the water sparkled and the new growth seemed even more brilliant.
Even Sherlock seemed content looking out over the small valley when John glanced at him. His expression was relaxed, lips slightly upturned in a tiny smile, hands in his coat pockets and the light breeze tugging at his clothes.
John didn’t ask what this place was. It was special, and Sherlock had decided to share it with him. That was enough.
They sat on some rocks and sat in silence for a while enjoying the view and some quiet company.
*~*~*
They got back a few minutes after lunch had already started, but others were still wandering about. The terrace had been filled with garden tables, four chairs to each and a smorgasbord laid out that people were getting food from.
Sherlock took a table on the very edge which had had two of its chairs taken away to let three married couples sit together. John got himself something to eat, made sure to have a bit extra to try and get Sherlock to have lunch and came back. “Are you eating today? You missed breakfast.”
“I didn’t miss it, I chose not to eat it.” He rested his chin on his hand, watching the amassed people.
“You should eat. Especially after that walk.”
“Slows my thinking.”
“Stops your body trying to consume your brain for the nutrients it needs,” he countered. “You’re not a case, Sherlock.”
“Of course I am. And that case is coming this way.” His expression hardened as Raffles came strolling up, plate of food in hand and Bunny wandering alongside him, chatting away amicably. “I hate to intrude, but do you mind if we join you?”
“Yes,” Sherlock stated.
“Ignore him, please.” John gestured for the pair to join them.
Raffles set down his plate and grabbed two chairs, plonking his own down and then getting Bunny’s seat for him, pushing it in before taking his own.
Interesting. John made no comment though.
“Did you two enjoy the guided walk,” Raffles asked in a cheerful voice. “We came out too late to join in, sat and watched the badminton for a while, have to say, it was a riot.”
“Actually-” John started.
“The walk was like everything else my brother organises. Insipid and catering to the lowest common denominator,” Sherlock cut in.
“Which we all here know you aren’t, but maybe your opinion is just biased against Mycroft. John, what did you think?”
John paused, swallowing. “Very nice,” he said finally.
“Are you coming to the match this afternoon, John?” Bunny’s light voice cut across the building tension.
“Um... yes. Yes, I am. I’m looking forward to just relaxing and watching a match. Are you planning on playing, Mr Raffles, or enjoying not having to?”
Raffles grinned that wolfish grin. “I think I’d rather disappoint everyone if I didn’t. And Bunny does so love to watch me play. And just Raffles will do, I’ve always found it easiest. Public school upbringing drills it into you.”
“But you still call Bunny by his nickname, not his surname,” John pointed out.
“Bunny’s the exception to a great many things in my life,” Raffles said, giving Bunny a genuinely warm smile and reaching over to drape an arm around his shoulders. “It’s rare that one finds a genuinely good and loyal soul in this world. Rarer than than diamonds in English soil.”
Bunny blushed, looking pleased and reaching for his drink to try and hide his fluster.
Sherlock leaned forwards, taking one of the spring rolls from John’s plate, as if to make a point. “Yes, it is. Someone who’d do anything you needed them to.” He looked at Bunny. “And you would do anything for Raffles. You took the fall for him when he broke a window to get back into the school after curfew.”
Bunny lifted his chin. “Raffles looks after me, I do what little I can in return.”
“Oh dear Bunny, you do so much for me, you’re my constant companion,” Raffles smiled.
John got the feeling Sherlock was one breath off telling them to stop the sickening, over the top display of true comradeship and cut in before he could. “Bunny said you helped him when he was at a pretty low point, that was how you got back into contact after school.”
Raffles turned his attention to John. “Oh, it wasn’t that big a deal. Bunny just needed someone there for a little while and I was happy to oblige.”
“It was a huge deal, Raffles,” Bunny said softly.
“Nonsense.” Raffles was determined to underplay whatever had happened. John wondered why.
“Raffles!”
He leaned back on his chair, waving a hand at the table that had called. “The adoring public beckons.” He stood, grabbing his plate and drink. “Holmes, are you going to be joining the match? You know how I love to play against you.”
Sherlock looked up. “I don’t think so. Cricket isn’t a game I enjoy.”
“Then perhaps we’ll find something else later tonight.” He nodded. “Until later, Holmes, John.”
Bunny stood, nodding. “Enjoy lunch. I’ll talk to you later, John.”
John focused on his lunch, waiting for the inevitable.
“I loathe that man,” Sherlock spat.
“I know, Sherlock. Finish your spring roll and then you can tell me what it was that Raffles did that he’s so determined to underplay.”
Sherlock made a show of finishing the spring roll and cleaning his fingers off on a napkin. “Bunny inherited from his father. A lot of money. A lot. And then he didn’t keep an eye on his accountant. He had no idea how to.”
John could see where this was going.
“He was bankrupted. He had to sell the family estate and move into a townhouse. Then he started to see Raffles again and things started to pick up. No doubt Raffles was loaning him money and giving him gifts, but the question remained where Raffles was getting so much money. Of course, I know where.”
“From this thieving he’s apparently so skilled in that no one but you can catch him.”
“Precisely.” Sherlock lifted his coffee and sipped.
“Sherlock... Why don’t you want me getting on with Bunny?”
Sherlock didn’t reply for a long moment. “Because he’s a criminal, John. And worse, he’s not a criminal for any moral conviction or desire, but simply because Raffles drags him along. Whatever friendship you could have would be entirely dependent on what Raffles wants and you deserve better. No, you’re too good for those two.” He sniffed disdainfully.
“Because it sounds a lot like you’re jealous, to me.”
“I’m a sociopath, I’m not capable of jealousy,” Sherlock countered.
“You’re not meant to be capable of caring either but I know you do. If you felt nothing, you wouldn’t have have what you did at the pool.”
Silence stretched between them. Sherlock got up abruptly and walked off towards the house. John sighed.
Mentioning the pool was one of those things that was Not Allowed. Sherlock didn’t reminder of feeling defeated. John had never managed to find out from him how he felt about it, but he had put together a few things from observation.
He’d go and find Sherlock later. Once he had calmed down.
Until then, he was going to enjoy lunch.
*~*~*
After lunch, Sherlock had still not put in any appearances, so John made his way to the large lawn where the match had been arranged and settled himself into a comfortable deck chair with a shade keeping the sun off his eyes but on his feet for warmth.
He was surprised when the chair next to him was taken. Not by Sherlock, or even Bunny, but by the elusive host. “Doctor.”
“Mycroft.”
Mycroft smiled slightly, folding his hands over his stomach. “Enjoying this weekend?”
“I am, yes.” It had been lovely so far, despite Sherlock’s little tempers.
“Marvelous. I was so glad when my brother asked if he could bring company.”
“He did?” Sherlock had told him that the invitation was for him and a guest and he wasn’t going on his own.
“Well... Declared he was bringing you is more accurate, but for Sherlock, that’s asking.”
That was interesting. Sherlock had demanded the space be made to bring him. “Is that why we only have the one bed?”
“All the room in the West tower are the same. I presumed, I admit, but given Sherlock’s insomnia I thought it would be mildly inconveniencing at bed.” Mycroft glanced to him. “Did I presume wrong?”
“No. Not really. I slept. Sherlock spent the night watching the telly on the couch.” He shrugged. “I got him to eat a spring roll at lunch. I might even get him to sleep tonight.”
“That would be a wonderful birthday gift. You have done a marvelous job of looking after him so far. He’s only been hospitalised twice in six months and once of those times was due to a mad man and the other a car accident. I’m very impressed.”
“He’s nearly cost me my job five times.”
“And yet you manage to persevere. Good afternoon, Mister Manders, looking forward to the match?”
“Yes, rather,” Bunny said as he came over. “Good line up you’ve organised. Williams is awful good. Pity that your brother wouldn’t join in.”
“Spending hours in the sun isn’t really Sherlock’s thing.” Mycroft got out of the deck chair. “Now, I must get to the umpire’s seat and I will leave you two to enjoy the game.” He nodded to them both and left.
Bunny occupied the seat that had just been vacated, curling up to half sit on his legs. “I am sorry if we interrupted you and Holmes before.”
“No, it’s fine. He’s just been in a mood about having to be here.” John shifted slightly. “He told me a little about what happened to you. Before Raffles stepped in. I’m sorry you were taken like that.”
The younger man looked down. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. Well... I mean, I do know, and it’s awful to think about now. I just didn’t know what to do.”
John stayed quiet, nodding attentively and not correcting Bunny that Sherlock hadn’t known about this. He considered the fact he was arguably getting as nosy as Sherlock was but he couldn’t entirely care.
“I just went around there to say goodbye, tell him that he’d been terribly decent to me over the years and I wished him all the best in his career. Or maybe I’m lying, and I did want him to stop me, to know someone would worry enough to stop me doing something silly.” He looked up, eyes bright. “Look at me, still getting all emotional about it. But it just... I was at my rope’s end and then suddenly Raffles is sitting me down, getting things organised, offering me somewhere to stay to get on top of things and just being... Raffles.”
“Yeah,” John said softly. “I know what you mean.” Sherlock had forced him to put himself back together when he was about ready to stop trying.
“They’re more alike than either of them like to admit,” Bunny said quietly.
“God help the world,” John muttered and Bunny smiled and laughed and offered to get him a lemonade.
*~*~*
Eventually, in the name of being sporting, Raffles stopped bowling and one of the other gentlemen took over from him. Bunny went off to get another round of refreshment, leaving John alone again for a while.
“I can’t for the life of me see what you enjoy about this game, John.”
“It’s a gentleman’s game. With good players it’s a joy to watch and with bad ones a lot of fun to play if you’re as bad at it as I am.” He looked up to where Sherlock stood behind his deck chair. “Did you have fun wandering all over the place?”
“I found out some interesting things,” he replied, dragging a chair closer to John’s and further under the shade before settling into it. “I also got a good look at the gifts room. The windows are alarmed, there is a guard on the only door and there are motion detectors inside of the room.”
“Sounds pretty safe,” John commented.
“Yes it does, doesn’t it.” Sherlock stared into the distance. “That’s what you’re meant to think.”
John hated it when Sherlock got into these moods. “That room is pretty secure, Sherlock. I really don’t think anyone would be stupid enough to try and rob it.”
“There’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity and I am fairly certain it is one that Raffles enjoys walking.”
“He’s not as bad as you think, Raffles.”
“Of course he is,” Sherlock sniffed.
“He saved Bunny’s life. He was ready to- well, make an irreversible decision.”
“Commit suicide?”
“Yes.”
“Then just say commit suicide, euphemisms don’t become you, John.”
He sighed. “Fine. He stopped Bunny killing himself. Gave him somewhere to stay, support, not just financial, but made him feel like he still had a place, that he mattered.”
“That doesn’t make him a good person. Just a selfish one who doesn’t like giving things up.” Sherlock looked back from the crowd to John. “I should know.”
John didn’t really know what to say to that, so he said nothing, looking away from Sherlock and out to the game again.
“Oh, hello, Holmes. I have a jug and a spare glass if you’d like a drink.”
John got up to move one of the low tables between them all for Bunny to put the tray on. Drinks were poured from the one jug and John took one with a soft thanks.
After a moment, Sherlock took one as well, sipping and looking back out over the crowd. “Manders.”
“Mm?” Bunny looked up. “Yes, Holmes?”
“I know what he’s planning. And I’m just waiting for him to try.” He looked back to Bunny. “So you tell him I’m watching. And I will catch him. Not for any love of my brother. Just to prove I can.”
Bunny swallowed.
“Sherlock!”
“Are we clear, Manders?”
“Y-yes, Holmes,” Bunny stammered. “Excuse me. I have to- go.” He got up and fled from them.
“Sherlock! That was completely uncalled for!” John glared at his companion.
Sherlock shook his head. “Bunny isn’t as innocent as he looks.”
“Sure you don’t think Bunny knows about it?”
“My dear Doctor, Bunny is not that clueless. he knows something. He just doesn’t know what he knows.”
John was left trying to work that out while Sherlock sipped his lemonade with a smug smile.
Fandom: BBC Sherlock/Modernised Raffles
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, AJ Raffles, 'Bunny' Manders.
Rating: G
Summary: One party, two adversaries and a small fortune in gifts at stake. Also, cricket.
Warnings: Some mild drinking and language.
The room itself had a personal guard assigned to it, but the man wasn’t paying attention to the windows. It was freezing outside as they peeked in to look at the table piled with expensive gifts from various guests.
John could see what looked to be diamond cufflinks and matching tie pin, expensive leather looking bound journals and antique books that had been lovingly restored to good condition inside a glass case. They must have been first edition somethings.
“Sherlock... why are we looking through the windows at your brother’s gifts at... three in the morning?”
“Because sometime tomorrow, Raffles is going to attempt to steal them.”
He blamed the fact he hadn’t enough sleep for his total lack of reaction to that. “Righty-oh then.”
“He won’t be able to resist the opportunity. He’ll steal them. Maybe not everything, too much, but the smaller, more expensive items.”
“And why will he do this, Sherlock?”
“Because that’s what Raffles does, John. He steals. He prides himself on his ability to steal and not be caught. He’s never been caught because the police are idiots and people are deluded by his smile and wit. He’s a thief and he’s going to rob this party to prove to himself that no one can catch him. Not even me.” Sherlock’s face was dark.
“Hang on. You think he’s going to rob your brother as part of this ongoing feud you two have over which of you is smarter?”
“No,” Sherlock snapped. “It is not a feud. I am smarter and he knows it. It is a matter of whether he is more cunning and manipulative than I am astute and logical.” He looked back to the window. John kept staring at him.
Sherlock ducked, tugging him down sharply.
He hit the ground on his butt, wincing but not trying to stand. The guard must have looked in.
“This is, in many ways, the apogee of our encounters. He will rob my brother and I will have only until the end of this party to recover the goods and prove once and for all that AJ Raffles is not a gentleman cricketer but a gentleman thief, robbing his hosts.”
Watching Sherlock’s face, John concluded that rightly or wrongly, Sherlock completely believed his story. “You really think he’d try to rob your brother, with all this security, all these people and you in the house?”
“John, I think he won’t be able to resist it, even if it wasn’t planned before.”
They sat in silence for a moment longer.
“Well... this has been enlightening,” John said, standing up. “I’m going back to bed.”
“But we haven’t explored the kitchens yet!” Sherlock stood, trailing after John, silk robe billowing in the wind. “Or the patio from after the drinks gathering!”
“You can explore away. It’s cold. It’s dark. I’m tired. I’m going back to bed and I suggest you come inside before you start to give yourself hypothermia.”
“Jooohn.”
“No.” He opened the door and looked back. “We can poke around tomorrow all you want, but right now, it’s cold and dark and it’s going to rain. I’m going to bed.”
Sherlock huffed, stamped his foot and stomped back inside after John, sulking the entire way back to their rooms and throwing himself into the couch before grabbing his violin.
John put in his earplugs and went back to sleep.
*~*~*
Most people would wake up in a better mood the next day. Sherlock, having probably not slept, was still being sulky when a rather nice full English breakfast was delivered for each of them along with a note card explaining the plans for the day.
John sat in the armchair and enjoyed breakfast while reading over the neatly written card. Sherlock lay on the couch and poked holes in his food with a knife until he was seized with some mad idea that involved taking the plate into the bathroom and testing if various pieces would float or sink.
He didn’t worry about it. Even Sherlock couldn’t do any major damage with breakfast and water. He focused on the card so he’d know the plans for the day.
‘Day One Events
10 am: Guided nature walk of surrounding woodland.
Badminton on the lawn.
12 noon: Lunch on the terrace.
2 pm: Cricket match (places still available on the teams).
Afternoon tea served during.
6 pm: Dinner in the main hall. Formal wear.
8 pm: After dinner drinks.
Operatic soloist Miranda Florence performing.
10 pm: End of scheduled events.’
At the very bottom, written in a different hand was a personal note. ‘Please don’t feel obliged to attend anything, I understand if you need to occupy Sherlock’s limited attention. -Mycroft.’
John chuckled at the note and tucked the card into his pocket.
“What’s so amusing,” Sherlock asked.
“Your brother sent me a note, reminding me that all the scheduled events are voluntary.”
“Events,” Sherlock spat. “It’s all so very old school, like we’re back before the war, upper classes playing in the manor houses while the lowers tend out whims.”
“Says the man who doesn’t even make his own tea when he’s at home.”
“I don’t schedule play events and grand balls.”
“Or get his own dinner. Or buy groceries. Or get his phone out of his pocket.”
“Are you still on about that? My hands were busy on the microscope.”
“You were too lazy to get your phone out of your jacket pocket,” John sighed. “Are you done in there, I want a wash and shave.”
“No, I am not done. You will just have to work around me.”
He rolled his eyes. That would be the payback for refusing to indulge running about the house last night.
He got up out of his chair and headed into the bathroom, picking up his electric shaver. Months of physical therapy and months before of living in a desert had got him used to using it and he was very grateful right now as he half leaned over Sherlock to actually be able to see into the mirror.
Sherlock glared at him in the reflection but John ignored him, focusing on what he was doing instead. Then, thankfully, Sherlock uncurled from where he was hunched over the sink and breezed through to the bedroom to take over the couch again.
“Are you going to come with me on the nature walk, or spend all day in here sulking?”
“I don’t sulk.”
“Or spend all day in here refusing to interact with the general public.”
“They are not the general public. They are Mycroft’s guests, which puts them below the police and above a common criminal, and even that point is disputable with the likes of Raffles here.” Sherlock hung his head off the couch to look at John. “Why are you going on the nature walk?”
“Because the grounds around here look nice. It’s a change from the city and it’s spring and I haven’t seen the English landscape in Spring for a long time.” He turned off his shaver, running a hand over his face. “Are you going to come with me?”
“Maybe.”
John didn’t push it any further than that. Maybe was more than he had expected. “There’s a cricket match this afternoon.”
“Don’t tell me you want to play,” Sherlock groaned. “I am not playing cricket with you.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. And no, I’m not signing up. Not with my leg and shoulder.”
“You’re twice as healthy as most of these people, you’d probably do splendidly out there. Maybe Bunny will fawn over your playing like he does Raffles’.”
John came to the doorway, staring at Sherlock. “What?”
“You seemed rather enamoured of Bunny last night, especially the way he was fawning over you.” He leapt to his feet, sidling closer. “I’ve never met a real soldier before,” he said breathlessly, in remarkable mimicry and mockery of Bunny last night. “It’s very awe-inspiring Doctor Watson. John.” His hand stroked John’s upper arm.
“Stop it,” John hissed.
“It just, it makes me admire you ever so much more,” he sighed out, pressing close.
“Jealous,” he asked peevishly.
“Perish the thought,” Sherlock snapped, straightening up. “It was revolting watching him pander to your ego and you lapping it up like a starved man at a desert oasis.”
“Do you have a problem with people being nice to me? He’s a nice young man.” He stomped past Sherlock to the wardrobe, grabbing some clothes.
“He wasn’t being nice, he was sucking up to you. I wouldn’t be surprised if Raffles sent him specifically to suck up to you to wheedle you onto his side.”
“For God’s sake Sherlock!” He turned to the younger man. “Not everything in life is about getting one up on other people. Sometimes people are just genuinely nice! Not that you’d know anything about it.” He went back into the bathroom, slamming the door.
Sherlock was a dear friend, but he drove John absolutely nuts some days. He took a few calming breaths and then got changed, cleaning his teeth and brushing his hair a bit neater before stepping out.
Sherlock was standing there, dressed and pulling his scarf around his neck.
John raised an eyebrow.
“I’m coming on the walk. If I leave you alone you’re as likely to have a relapse and get left behind because you refuse to admit you’re having troubles.” He did up his coat. “So I’m coming with you.”
John smiled slightly. Whatever excuse Sherlock felt the need to give, he didn’t mind. It was as close to an apology as the other man was ever likely to come. He grabbed his own coat and pulled it on, opening the door for Sherlock and then following him out and towards the patio.
*~*~*
As it happened, no one else they really knew came on the walk. Sherlock got bored about five minutes into it and tugged on John’s arm, offering to show him the interesting sights, not the easily reached, over publicised views that the tour would be looking at.
And John could never resist when Sherlock offered to show him something more interesting.
They had branched off and through the forest, away from the carefully tended path and into the still wild areas. They saw some rabbits getting into the spring spirit, the first bluebells and foxgloves flowering in small glens where the trees were yet to cover with newly sprouted leaves.
Then they reached the old quarry.
Sherlock scrambled up the mostly concealed path like a mountain goat, all sure footing and graceful movements. There was clearly a childhood’s worth of muscle memory in climbing up that path. John followed more carefully, half walking and half climbing after his friend until he reached the top and Sherlock gave him a hand to his feet and gestured.
It was beautiful. Looking over the valley, a meandering creek and blue pond... well, maybe lake was closer, but lit by the bright Spring sun, the water sparkled and the new growth seemed even more brilliant.
Even Sherlock seemed content looking out over the small valley when John glanced at him. His expression was relaxed, lips slightly upturned in a tiny smile, hands in his coat pockets and the light breeze tugging at his clothes.
John didn’t ask what this place was. It was special, and Sherlock had decided to share it with him. That was enough.
They sat on some rocks and sat in silence for a while enjoying the view and some quiet company.
*~*~*
They got back a few minutes after lunch had already started, but others were still wandering about. The terrace had been filled with garden tables, four chairs to each and a smorgasbord laid out that people were getting food from.
Sherlock took a table on the very edge which had had two of its chairs taken away to let three married couples sit together. John got himself something to eat, made sure to have a bit extra to try and get Sherlock to have lunch and came back. “Are you eating today? You missed breakfast.”
“I didn’t miss it, I chose not to eat it.” He rested his chin on his hand, watching the amassed people.
“You should eat. Especially after that walk.”
“Slows my thinking.”
“Stops your body trying to consume your brain for the nutrients it needs,” he countered. “You’re not a case, Sherlock.”
“Of course I am. And that case is coming this way.” His expression hardened as Raffles came strolling up, plate of food in hand and Bunny wandering alongside him, chatting away amicably. “I hate to intrude, but do you mind if we join you?”
“Yes,” Sherlock stated.
“Ignore him, please.” John gestured for the pair to join them.
Raffles set down his plate and grabbed two chairs, plonking his own down and then getting Bunny’s seat for him, pushing it in before taking his own.
Interesting. John made no comment though.
“Did you two enjoy the guided walk,” Raffles asked in a cheerful voice. “We came out too late to join in, sat and watched the badminton for a while, have to say, it was a riot.”
“Actually-” John started.
“The walk was like everything else my brother organises. Insipid and catering to the lowest common denominator,” Sherlock cut in.
“Which we all here know you aren’t, but maybe your opinion is just biased against Mycroft. John, what did you think?”
John paused, swallowing. “Very nice,” he said finally.
“Are you coming to the match this afternoon, John?” Bunny’s light voice cut across the building tension.
“Um... yes. Yes, I am. I’m looking forward to just relaxing and watching a match. Are you planning on playing, Mr Raffles, or enjoying not having to?”
Raffles grinned that wolfish grin. “I think I’d rather disappoint everyone if I didn’t. And Bunny does so love to watch me play. And just Raffles will do, I’ve always found it easiest. Public school upbringing drills it into you.”
“But you still call Bunny by his nickname, not his surname,” John pointed out.
“Bunny’s the exception to a great many things in my life,” Raffles said, giving Bunny a genuinely warm smile and reaching over to drape an arm around his shoulders. “It’s rare that one finds a genuinely good and loyal soul in this world. Rarer than than diamonds in English soil.”
Bunny blushed, looking pleased and reaching for his drink to try and hide his fluster.
Sherlock leaned forwards, taking one of the spring rolls from John’s plate, as if to make a point. “Yes, it is. Someone who’d do anything you needed them to.” He looked at Bunny. “And you would do anything for Raffles. You took the fall for him when he broke a window to get back into the school after curfew.”
Bunny lifted his chin. “Raffles looks after me, I do what little I can in return.”
“Oh dear Bunny, you do so much for me, you’re my constant companion,” Raffles smiled.
John got the feeling Sherlock was one breath off telling them to stop the sickening, over the top display of true comradeship and cut in before he could. “Bunny said you helped him when he was at a pretty low point, that was how you got back into contact after school.”
Raffles turned his attention to John. “Oh, it wasn’t that big a deal. Bunny just needed someone there for a little while and I was happy to oblige.”
“It was a huge deal, Raffles,” Bunny said softly.
“Nonsense.” Raffles was determined to underplay whatever had happened. John wondered why.
“Raffles!”
He leaned back on his chair, waving a hand at the table that had called. “The adoring public beckons.” He stood, grabbing his plate and drink. “Holmes, are you going to be joining the match? You know how I love to play against you.”
Sherlock looked up. “I don’t think so. Cricket isn’t a game I enjoy.”
“Then perhaps we’ll find something else later tonight.” He nodded. “Until later, Holmes, John.”
Bunny stood, nodding. “Enjoy lunch. I’ll talk to you later, John.”
John focused on his lunch, waiting for the inevitable.
“I loathe that man,” Sherlock spat.
“I know, Sherlock. Finish your spring roll and then you can tell me what it was that Raffles did that he’s so determined to underplay.”
Sherlock made a show of finishing the spring roll and cleaning his fingers off on a napkin. “Bunny inherited from his father. A lot of money. A lot. And then he didn’t keep an eye on his accountant. He had no idea how to.”
John could see where this was going.
“He was bankrupted. He had to sell the family estate and move into a townhouse. Then he started to see Raffles again and things started to pick up. No doubt Raffles was loaning him money and giving him gifts, but the question remained where Raffles was getting so much money. Of course, I know where.”
“From this thieving he’s apparently so skilled in that no one but you can catch him.”
“Precisely.” Sherlock lifted his coffee and sipped.
“Sherlock... Why don’t you want me getting on with Bunny?”
Sherlock didn’t reply for a long moment. “Because he’s a criminal, John. And worse, he’s not a criminal for any moral conviction or desire, but simply because Raffles drags him along. Whatever friendship you could have would be entirely dependent on what Raffles wants and you deserve better. No, you’re too good for those two.” He sniffed disdainfully.
“Because it sounds a lot like you’re jealous, to me.”
“I’m a sociopath, I’m not capable of jealousy,” Sherlock countered.
“You’re not meant to be capable of caring either but I know you do. If you felt nothing, you wouldn’t have have what you did at the pool.”
Silence stretched between them. Sherlock got up abruptly and walked off towards the house. John sighed.
Mentioning the pool was one of those things that was Not Allowed. Sherlock didn’t reminder of feeling defeated. John had never managed to find out from him how he felt about it, but he had put together a few things from observation.
He’d go and find Sherlock later. Once he had calmed down.
Until then, he was going to enjoy lunch.
*~*~*
After lunch, Sherlock had still not put in any appearances, so John made his way to the large lawn where the match had been arranged and settled himself into a comfortable deck chair with a shade keeping the sun off his eyes but on his feet for warmth.
He was surprised when the chair next to him was taken. Not by Sherlock, or even Bunny, but by the elusive host. “Doctor.”
“Mycroft.”
Mycroft smiled slightly, folding his hands over his stomach. “Enjoying this weekend?”
“I am, yes.” It had been lovely so far, despite Sherlock’s little tempers.
“Marvelous. I was so glad when my brother asked if he could bring company.”
“He did?” Sherlock had told him that the invitation was for him and a guest and he wasn’t going on his own.
“Well... Declared he was bringing you is more accurate, but for Sherlock, that’s asking.”
That was interesting. Sherlock had demanded the space be made to bring him. “Is that why we only have the one bed?”
“All the room in the West tower are the same. I presumed, I admit, but given Sherlock’s insomnia I thought it would be mildly inconveniencing at bed.” Mycroft glanced to him. “Did I presume wrong?”
“No. Not really. I slept. Sherlock spent the night watching the telly on the couch.” He shrugged. “I got him to eat a spring roll at lunch. I might even get him to sleep tonight.”
“That would be a wonderful birthday gift. You have done a marvelous job of looking after him so far. He’s only been hospitalised twice in six months and once of those times was due to a mad man and the other a car accident. I’m very impressed.”
“He’s nearly cost me my job five times.”
“And yet you manage to persevere. Good afternoon, Mister Manders, looking forward to the match?”
“Yes, rather,” Bunny said as he came over. “Good line up you’ve organised. Williams is awful good. Pity that your brother wouldn’t join in.”
“Spending hours in the sun isn’t really Sherlock’s thing.” Mycroft got out of the deck chair. “Now, I must get to the umpire’s seat and I will leave you two to enjoy the game.” He nodded to them both and left.
Bunny occupied the seat that had just been vacated, curling up to half sit on his legs. “I am sorry if we interrupted you and Holmes before.”
“No, it’s fine. He’s just been in a mood about having to be here.” John shifted slightly. “He told me a little about what happened to you. Before Raffles stepped in. I’m sorry you were taken like that.”
The younger man looked down. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. Well... I mean, I do know, and it’s awful to think about now. I just didn’t know what to do.”
John stayed quiet, nodding attentively and not correcting Bunny that Sherlock hadn’t known about this. He considered the fact he was arguably getting as nosy as Sherlock was but he couldn’t entirely care.
“I just went around there to say goodbye, tell him that he’d been terribly decent to me over the years and I wished him all the best in his career. Or maybe I’m lying, and I did want him to stop me, to know someone would worry enough to stop me doing something silly.” He looked up, eyes bright. “Look at me, still getting all emotional about it. But it just... I was at my rope’s end and then suddenly Raffles is sitting me down, getting things organised, offering me somewhere to stay to get on top of things and just being... Raffles.”
“Yeah,” John said softly. “I know what you mean.” Sherlock had forced him to put himself back together when he was about ready to stop trying.
“They’re more alike than either of them like to admit,” Bunny said quietly.
“God help the world,” John muttered and Bunny smiled and laughed and offered to get him a lemonade.
*~*~*
Eventually, in the name of being sporting, Raffles stopped bowling and one of the other gentlemen took over from him. Bunny went off to get another round of refreshment, leaving John alone again for a while.
“I can’t for the life of me see what you enjoy about this game, John.”
“It’s a gentleman’s game. With good players it’s a joy to watch and with bad ones a lot of fun to play if you’re as bad at it as I am.” He looked up to where Sherlock stood behind his deck chair. “Did you have fun wandering all over the place?”
“I found out some interesting things,” he replied, dragging a chair closer to John’s and further under the shade before settling into it. “I also got a good look at the gifts room. The windows are alarmed, there is a guard on the only door and there are motion detectors inside of the room.”
“Sounds pretty safe,” John commented.
“Yes it does, doesn’t it.” Sherlock stared into the distance. “That’s what you’re meant to think.”
John hated it when Sherlock got into these moods. “That room is pretty secure, Sherlock. I really don’t think anyone would be stupid enough to try and rob it.”
“There’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity and I am fairly certain it is one that Raffles enjoys walking.”
“He’s not as bad as you think, Raffles.”
“Of course he is,” Sherlock sniffed.
“He saved Bunny’s life. He was ready to- well, make an irreversible decision.”
“Commit suicide?”
“Yes.”
“Then just say commit suicide, euphemisms don’t become you, John.”
He sighed. “Fine. He stopped Bunny killing himself. Gave him somewhere to stay, support, not just financial, but made him feel like he still had a place, that he mattered.”
“That doesn’t make him a good person. Just a selfish one who doesn’t like giving things up.” Sherlock looked back from the crowd to John. “I should know.”
John didn’t really know what to say to that, so he said nothing, looking away from Sherlock and out to the game again.
“Oh, hello, Holmes. I have a jug and a spare glass if you’d like a drink.”
John got up to move one of the low tables between them all for Bunny to put the tray on. Drinks were poured from the one jug and John took one with a soft thanks.
After a moment, Sherlock took one as well, sipping and looking back out over the crowd. “Manders.”
“Mm?” Bunny looked up. “Yes, Holmes?”
“I know what he’s planning. And I’m just waiting for him to try.” He looked back to Bunny. “So you tell him I’m watching. And I will catch him. Not for any love of my brother. Just to prove I can.”
Bunny swallowed.
“Sherlock!”
“Are we clear, Manders?”
“Y-yes, Holmes,” Bunny stammered. “Excuse me. I have to- go.” He got up and fled from them.
“Sherlock! That was completely uncalled for!” John glared at his companion.
Sherlock shook his head. “Bunny isn’t as innocent as he looks.”
“Sure you don’t think Bunny knows about it?”
“My dear Doctor, Bunny is not that clueless. he knows something. He just doesn’t know what he knows.”
John was left trying to work that out while Sherlock sipped his lemonade with a smug smile.