sherlock holmes brother

Crazy, who would do that to a lady who deserves peace!I went straight to the gravekeeper, and we found her near the cemetery, and she was so black that she couldn't see anything. "At the end, his voice gradually lowered, and Watson nodded in understanding.

"Your mother chose Westfield Cemetery herself? Why? I thought it was in two directions from your house." Sherlock's tone was still aggressive.

Watson gave Professor Fitzwilliam a somewhat apologetic look. His cohabitants had never been able to understand that ordinary people should adjust their tone at such a time.

"Is it so difficult to fulfill a lady's dying wishes? Or is it that my mother doesn't even have the right to freely choose a suitable burial place for herself!" Professor Fitzwilliam was enraged, his voice raised, "I don't want to Talking to you again! Whatever you are, please leave!"

"Sorry, he didn't mean it. We are sorry for your loss..." Watson was embarrassed, but he was interrupted by Sherlock before he finished speaking, and the other party had already put on his coat, "Goodbye." He There was something sly about knowing everything in his voice.

The two left one after the other, and Wilton and Professor Fitzwilliam did not speak for a long time.The aroma of coffee mixed with the smell of various hormones secreted by Professor Fitzwilliam floated into Wilton's nose. Thank them for sitting close enough. Wilton could distinguish anger, shame, excitement, and... ...belonging to a smell that the other person can barely smell.

"Don't let those indifferent people ruin your mood," Professor Fitzwilliam drank his coffee, and then changed his expression, "Tell me about you, Wilton, I heard about a Miss...."

Wilton narrowed his eyes slightly when he thought about the smell he had just smelled, and then about the "Miss" mentioned by Professor Fitzwilliam. The one named "Mary" became more and more interesting.

☆、Brother Holmes

Wilton had a pleasant chat with Professor Fitzwilliam. Oh, it should be said that most people are very happy with Wilton. Some people seem to have a natural trait that makes people feel comfortable with him . "You'll probably be busy soon." Wilton pointed to Professor Fitzwilliam's watch, which he had checked several times within half an hour. "Thank you for your coffee."

"It's nothing. You are a good colleague. If you have time, please come to my house. I remember that I have the book about Freud you mentioned." Professor Fitzwilliam is also very happy, although he used to talk to this Polk The professor didn't have much contact with him, but after chatting with him today, he found that he was really a person who suited his appetite, so he asked to pay the bill, and this person could be handed over.

Wilton walked out of the cafe with Professor Fitzwilliam smiling, and parted ways at an intersection not far from the door. He walked forward alone for less than a block, and a black car slid into his car silently. around.

"Mr. Holmes, Boss is looking for you." The car door opened, and a woman's voice came out.

Wilton got in the car and closed the door without any surprises. He turned around and saw the woman next to him didn't even take his head off the blackberry. "What's your name today?" It was still gentle as always.

"Elsa." The secretary who changed her name every day didn't even change her tone. After staying with Boss for a long time, especially dealing with Sherlock's affairs a lot, she would not believe that there would be a Holmes family. "Normal" youngest son.

Wilton didn't feel embarrassed either. He wanted to see his elder brother anyway, so he closed his eyes and rested his mind. He has always been an obedient brother, hasn't he?

After driving for about half an hour, the black car stopped in front of a two-story exquisite house. Wilton looked at the place with some interest. He remembered that he never knew his elder brother had such a thing before he left England. a house.

"Boss is inside," Elsa's eyes were still glued to the phone screen, "the car will be outside."

Wilton thanked the driver with a smile in the rearview mirror, got a friendly look, thanked him politely, and got out of the car.

"A, don't you think you're being too mean to that gentleman?" The driver still couldn't hold back after Wilton got off the bus. Miss Blackberry, who is used to changing her name every day, was codenamed A in MI[-].

"Be vigilant, D, as Boss said, don't jump to conclusions on anyone." Miss Blackberry's tone was very light, but the driver's nerves were tense. They were MI[-], and any slight mistake could lead to irreparable loss.

Wilton was completely unaware of this scene in the car, in fact, if it hadn't been for the habit of pretending, he wouldn't be called a hypocrite by his second brother.

Pushing open the door of the house, Wilton was subconsciously relaxed by a certain familiar atmosphere, "Uncle!" A crisp voice followed by a little girl in a pink lace princess dress pounced on him. in the arms.Wilton's face seemed to be magical, and the gentleman's mask of restraint and politeness seemed to be peeled off in an instant. It was his family. "Little princess, why are you here?" He gently kissed the little girl's left hand. face, and then kissed the right cheek under the dissatisfied gaze of the other party.

"Greg said he would go home for dinner today, and I'm waiting for him, uncle, do you want to come with us?" The little girl was like a happy bird.

"Is your father here? I have something to look for him." Wilton's voice was full of smiles, Greg?It seems that a lot has happened during his absence in the UK.

"Father is in the study, you know, he is always in the study..." The little girl frowned, like a little adult, "I don't like the study!" In order to match her tone, she waved her hand vigorously.

"I'll take you to see Sherlock next time you're obedient, okay?" Wilton suddenly thought of something, and he tapped the little girl's nose lightly.

Sure enough, the girl's eyes lit up, "Sherlock!" She giggled, "I haven't seen him for a long time, grandma said he was busy dating, let me not bother him, his boyfriend is handsome ?"

"I thought you weren't old enough to care about this issue," Wilton frowned deliberately, "or our little princess is already being chased by someone...that's not okay..."

"You know that's not true." The little girl smiled proudly. "Your eyes haven't changed. Sherlock said that it means your expression just now was fake."

"Okay, okay." Wilton made a gesture of surrender, and then put the little girl down, "I'll go to your father first, will you be obedient?" He turned back to confirm.

"As long as you say what you say." The little girl waved her little fist, and then mouthed "Sherlock".

Wilton smiled, walked slowly to the door of the study, and subconsciously adjusted his appearance. After the permission of "please come in" was heard inside, he walked in solemnly. The laughing and joking with his niece just now seemed to have completely disappeared , in Mycroft, he can always find the majesty of the head of the pure-blood family in his previous life. "Brother." From the previous life to this life, Wilton surrendered and relied on the truly powerful family from his soul.

"Elizabeth is just curious, don't talk nonsense in front of her." The curtains were drawn in the room, and the yellowish light reflected the whole space with a strange warmth, "I heard that a lady is looking for you today?" Standing in the middle of the room in a black suit, he held a black umbrella by his hand, which seemed to be used as a walking stick.

Wilton subconsciously wanted to say that I had nothing to do with her, but the scent he smelled when he was with Professor Fitzwilliam in the afternoon made him pause, "I don't plan to get married, but I want to take my time," he said to that person. Some are interested, but if his elder brother is involved, he will not be interested at all, "I mean to get in touch slowly, without monitoring, without background checks, otherwise I will tell Mommy that you are living with the detective." Without hurting each other Take advantage of all the conditions in your favour.

Mycroft rubbed his hand against the handle of the umbrella, "I told you about Sherlock's condition..."

"I thought you knew I could keep myself safe," Wilton said straight away. "I'll be home next week at the latest, and Mummy is upset that I didn't see her first." That's it threatened.

"Well, I hope you know what you're doing." Mycroft conceded. He wasn't really a "manipulative villain" as Sherlock said, but anyone who Sherlock's younger brother, who caused trouble like him, didn't dare to say that he could do better than him.There is a gap when there is a comparison. In front of Sherlock's hard work, his younger brother is simply the best brother model, "There is no monitoring, no investigation, and you can handle it yourself with Mommy." I don't believe that my mother doesn't have her own way of obtaining information.

"Of course, brother." Wilton understood that this was already Mycroft's concession. Since the threat called Moriarty made him call himself back from the United States, he changed direction to show that he was not a lone ranger. There are at least two or more forces behind him as support.

The two exchanged a few words, and Mycroft was the one talking most of the time, and Wilton replied that, unlike the tension with Sherlock, Mycroft and Wilton seemed more closely related. Family—Although they are only nine years apart, Wilton always remembers how the young man in his early twenties grew up to be a shelter for them after their father passed away.

"When will you get married?" Wilton suddenly asked this question. In the Holmes family, it is unforgivable to live together without getting married.

Mycroft choked on a rare occasion. Apart from his little brother, no one else would ask him such a question so bluntly. "Greg still needs time." He squinted at one of his younger brothers, "Take care of yourself." This meant the end of the conversation. The new relationship between him and the inspector hadn't been developed for a long time, and his warning hadn't Already sent out.

Wilton stepped back slightly knowingly and spread his hands to show his harmlessness, "I wish you happiness." He said with some teasing, "When are you going to tell Sherlock?"

It stands to reason that the fact that Mycroft brought the detective home to keep him in captivity should not have escaped Sherlock's eyes. Given the frequency with which the detective appears in 221B, Sherlock has not directly texted Mycroft to question him until now. The relationship between them can only show that his heart is disturbed, and there is something more worrying about him that has affected his basic judgment.

Of course, this is not to say that Sherlock has lost the sharpness of interpretation that he has always been good at, but that he is somewhat negligent in the people he knows and trusts.

Mycroft and Wilton, who knew their brothers well, knew what such "negligence" meant to Sherlock, "When do you think he will figure it out?" Wilton's voice was full of gloating.

"Mummy will hope that none of you will go home alone for Christmas." Mycroft held a black umbrella with a flower in his hand, and then he looked at the clock in the room, "You should go." He said Greg should be back soon.

For a moment, Wilton had the idea of ​​staying and disrupting his elder brother's pace, even though he admired and believed in Mycroft, just like Sherlock, he also had an idea that "Mycroft is always right" The desire to refute is like a child who knows everything the parents say is right but is always a little bit unconvinced.But not today, Wilton himself still has a handle in Mycroft's hands. He finally found a "toy" that his elder brother promised not to touch.

She left cleanly and left countless promises to the little princess. As the only Sherlock Holmes in the next generation, Elizabeth is definitely the real princess.

Before the car started, Wilton subconsciously glanced at the house with lights on, feeling a little melancholy.This was different from when Mycroft got married, when his eldest brother married that woman for the sake of the Holmes family, Lestrade was Mycroft's own choice, and his eldest brother was willing this time.

Thinking of Mycroft having Lestrade and Sherlock having Watson and Wilton, he felt a little melancholy, but this melancholy turned into a warning when he opened the door of 221C. There was another person in the room. The smell of adrenaline.

"Who?" Wilton could feel that every cell in his body was mobilized. In this life, he has been fascinated by fighting since he knew that he became a real Muggle. He tries to learn better.

"My dear, you don't remember me so soon?" Because of the sky, the room was completely dark, a vague figure was sitting in an armchair, and the male voice with some Irish accent seemed very brisk, "Welcome back Home."

☆, soaked linen

Sherlock, who was separated by a wall, had no idea that the greatest enemy he had identified so far was now sitting carelessly on his brother's chair, oh, it's still a chair now, maybe it will be a bed in a while.Now he is wearing gloves and carefully dripping some clear test fluid onto a yellowish thing on a glass slide.

"Sherlock, that's evidence!" Watson, who came down from the stairs, immediately recognized the yellowish thing as the linen that Sherlock showed him after leaving the cemetery that day.

"It's just a small piece. I need to draw conclusions through experiments." Sherlock's hands didn't even shake, and he raised the glass slide slightly. He didn't pay attention to Watson at all.

"Then what did you see?" Watson walked around to the opposite side of Sherlock with some helplessness. Because of his height, his head had to be raised slightly to meet Sherlock's line of sight.

"Gasoline, no doubt," Sherlock seldom answered directly because of lack of concentration, "and something else, maybe some kind of spice..."

Watson looked at the man in front of him, with slightly curly black hair, high cheekbones, and pale skin. His gaze uncontrollably passed from his light gray eyes to his tall nose, and finally landed on the light-colored man. On a pair of thin lips.Hearing that people with thin lips are often fickle and mean, Watson thought absently, from a doctor's point of view, if a person's life is irregular for a long time, a person's lips will easily become dry, peeling, and dry, but Sherlock's is obviously not the case. , I don’t know how to paste it... Paste it!

"What's going on in that little brain of yours? I said it all, stop thinking, it's useless except to add to the noise." Glancing at his doctor, Sherlock sharpened as he didn't get an answer.

It was obviously such a sharp word, but when it came out of Sherlock's beautiful lips, it brought an indescribable temptation.Lure|temptation?Watson's face turned pale, and it was pasted to be seductive. What happened to him today?

"Are you okay?" Watson's abnormality was finally noticed by his cohabitant. "Looking at the expression on your face, I thought I saw Edvard Munch at the art exhibition."

"What Edvard Munch?" Watson was all focused on his "abnormality". When he came back to his senses, he found that the face of the object of his thinking was enlarged in front of his eyes. The distance is less than ten centimeters!Such a discovery made him back subconsciously. Unfortunately, there was a cardboard box behind him, and Watson naturally lost his balance.

"Call, my doctor." Sherlock pulled him into his arms, "Don't tell me that you 'normal' people don't even know what that painting by Edvard Munch is."

"Of course not." There was no time to be shy about the ambiguous behavior between them, Watson simply didn't want to be despised by Sherlock, although he was often judged by the other party for his IQ.

"Sherlock, oh, I'm sorry to bother you!" The door of 221B was suddenly pushed open violently, Sherlock held Watson's waist and the latter leaned on the former's arms obediently like a "little bird", it was blinding the eyes of others.

"We're not..." Watson hurriedly stood up from Sherlock's arms, belatedly realizing that their actions just now were hard to explain, "Inspector Lestrade, what's the matter?" Call people in directly, and walk into the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea for the good detective who is still working hard at night.

If there is no relationship with Mycroft, maybe the inspector will start to tease Watson at this time, such a standard "Mrs. Holmes" behavior, but considering his current relationship with Holmes' eldest son, Lestrade decisive Controlling his impulse, "The autopsy report is out, your guess is right." Sherlock jumped up from the sofa and quickly tied his scarf, "John, let's go."

"But...tea..." Watson had just come out of the kitchen with a cup of tea, and after putting it down, he gave Lestrade a sorry look.

"It's okay, I'll drink and leave." Lestrade pointed to the teacup understandingly, and the hidden meaning in the words made Watson's face blush even more.

Muttering something, Watson still put on his jacket and followed Sherlock downstairs.

Lestrade's mobile phone rang upstairs, who was picking up his teacup. He ignored it deliberately, and it rang again after a while.Lestrade looked at the phone, which was singing desperately, and finally picked it up, "Greg, why haven't you come home!" The little princess's childish voice was extremely lethal, "I'll call Scotland Yard Yes, you left work a few hours ago."

Before Lestrade could speak, another voice came from the phone, "Elizabeth, Greg is just a little bit delayed, the traffic conditions in London are not always good, he is already on the way, and he will be there in four or ten minutes." I will probably be able to go home." "Is that so? Greg, are you really on your way?" The little princess's voice was full of uncertainty and expectation.

Lestrade rubbed his face hard with his hands, knowing that Mycroft probably knew he was in Baker Street.Four and ten minutes, which happened to be the drive from Baker Street to his home, Lestrait would not believe that the other party said it casually.

"Greg?" Because he didn't answer, the little girl on the opposite side was already crying.

"Yes, I'm on the way, it's four or ten minutes." Lestrade said as if surrendering, while drinking the tea in the cup, "I'll go home now." After hanging up the phone, he said bitterly Stepping on the stairs of 10B, the Sherlock Holmes family, no one is easy to deal with.

Perhaps because of Lestrade's defamation, Sherlock sneezed hugely, and Watson, who was still distracted in the taxi, was taken aback.

"What were you thinking just now?" It was rare for Sherlock not to put all his energy on the case, even though Lestrade had just given him an important clue.

"Where are we going?" Watson didn't answer the detective's question, feeling as if he'd been crossing the line more and more since he'd lived and died with his roommate by the pool.

"Buzz, the experiment just now may have results." Sherlock just asked, and his attention was still mainly there before the case was solved.

As soon as Sherlock entered Buzz's laboratory, Sherlock entered a state of crazy experimentation. He kept taking things out of bottles of different colors, then shook his head and put them back, and then repeated.Watson looked around boredly, "What can I do for you?"

"Shut up!" Sherlock glared at Watson sharply because he was about to find it but missed the door.

For a moment, Watson felt aggrieved. It was obvious that Sherlock had dragged him to Buzz at night, but now he was not allowed to speak.With such a vengeful mentality, Watson not only did not calm down, but stomped on the floor with his own shoes, "When you go to the medical school to do experiments at night, you should be lucky that there are no mummies or zombies here, or else..."

He was interrupted by Sherlock before he finished speaking, "What did you just say?" He strode over, holding Watson tightly with both hands.

"Hey, I thought you didn't believe this, you haven't even watched Resident Evil and The Mummy Returns." Watson joked that he didn't believe that his cohabitants would be afraid of those things, if there were zombies or the mummy Sherlock, I'm afraid He will be the first to rush forward to study why the other party can still move.

"You are such a good doctor to me." Sherlock hugged his doctor tightly, and then ignored Watson's flushed face. "Cinnamon cinnamon..." he said as he took out another small bottle and sucked it through a straw. After pouring out some transparent liquid inside, he dripped it on the glass slide, and the change of color on it made him smile with satisfaction.

"What the hell is going on here?" Watson knew the detective was not joking.

"Use your little mind, doctor," Sherlock said with some joy in his usual arrogance, "the sackcloth has not been burned clean, and there is combustion-supporting gasoline on it, and you have just mentioned the following ingredients."

"Mummy?" said Watson in amazement. "But, oh my God, they've been wrapped up, but why?"

"Yes," Sherlock snapped his slender fingers in the air, "Just now Lestrade told me that the medical examiner identified Ms. Fitzwilliam's body because it was too completely burnt to be recognized, but the first The two female corpses were re-examined at my request, her tongue was cut off before being burned, and with this cinnamon on the sackcloth..."

"Cinnamon?" Watson repeated.

"The shrouds of mummies can also be treated sackcloth, as long as they are soaked in herbs such as cinnamon before." Sherlock quickly pressed his blackberry, "Tongue cutting is also an ancient Egyptian ritual." It seems that our suspect is very interested in the history of ancient Egypt."

"Then where are we going now?" Watson rubbed his temples.

"Go home, it's time to go to bed, I thought you were the doctor." Sherlock winked and opened the door.

"What about tomorrow?" Watson smiled connivingly as he couldn't imagine being taught a lesson by the detective.

"British Museum, I just found out there is a Professor Michael." Sherlock put his hand into his coat pocket, and walked half a step behind his doctor. The shadows of the two elongated and slowly became entangled together.

The author has something to say: [Note] Edvard Munch, a Norwegian painter.

☆, be my boyfriend

"Professor Michael?" The administrators of the British Museum looked at the two men, one tall and one lower, in doubt. The former was somewhat bookish, while the latter looked more like a teddy seller in a street toy store.

"Yes, we..." Watson smiled softly. He originally planned to say, "Although we don't have an appointment, we have something very important to see him."But he was interrupted by the detective before he finished speaking, "We are with that man," Sherlock pointed his gloved finger at the two men not far away without hesitation, "It is the man who was with Professor Michael. together."

The administrator turned his head to look suspiciously, "But that Professor Polk only registered one person."

Polk?Polk!Watson immediately understood why that figure looked so familiar. That figure was obviously Sherlock's younger brother.Regardless of thinking about why the other party appeared in this place, Sherlock had already rushed over aggressively, and Watson stayed to explain in a good temper, "Yes, we are here with Professor Polk, Wilton, His name is Professor Wilton Polk, and he teaches psychology at Barts."

Here Watson is still finishing up their actions, while Sherlock has already soared all the way to the two men who were talking, and the black coat floated gently behind him, showing full momentum.

"Professor Michael, Professor Pork, please forgive my presumptuousness, but Professor Pork, you seem to be late." As long as Sherlock wants to, he can pretend to be anyone, such as now, he will be an embarrassing assistant He acted very realistically, especially when he was very sure that the other party would not disrupt the stage, "You have an appointment with the flower shop at ten o'clock, and today you intend to propose marriage."

Wilton obviously didn't expect to see Sherlock here, and he also knew very well that his second brother knew that he was an unmarriageist, and then related to the possible purpose of Sherlock's appearance, "Look at my memory. It was so much fun chatting." Well, he's a good brother, and he shouldn't hold back when his second brother is "working".

"Professor Polk." Watson, who was a step behind, didn't hear the excuse Sherlock made in front of him, and let him continue despite the usual tacit understanding, "I'm so happy to see you, Sherlock has been looking for you for a long time .”

"It seems that today is really inconvenient." The only man who didn't speak smiled, his eyes behind his round glasses were full of smiles, "Marriage proposal is a big event in life, we can make an appointment in a few days, and then you can bring Go to your fiancée, oh, I believe no lady can resist your charm." He laughed and patted Wilton on the shoulder, and the latter stiffened for a moment but still did not move.

"If you don't mind, I would like to chat with you. You know, I have been very interested in the history of ancient Egypt since I was a child. If it weren't for my mother's request, I would definitely study history instead of psychology." Sherlock looked yearning, and next to him recalled that when he was a child, Wilton, who was studying the mummy production project with great interest, gritted his teeth in his heart. In the end, his second brother who was so crazy that he really planned to go to the morgue to steal a corpse was not right. He was "extremely" interested in the history of ancient Egypt, so interested that his elder brother had to "talk" to him at home to dispel his mummy-making experiment that he planned to practice to gain true knowledge.

"If I'm the lucky one, of course." Wilton blinked, "Then I'll go first, and I hope to see you next time." He pulled away and prepared to leave, but before he left, he remembered Sherlock An excuse for him, "Dr. Watson, Mary asked me to tell you that Sarah hasn't seen you for a long time." Then he added an explanation, "Oh, Sarah is Mary's best friend, you know, woman Friendship between us." Wilton's pretended helplessness made Michael laugh out loud, and Sherlock also bent his mouth in unison.As for Watson, of course he knew that "Mary" was made up, but that didn't stop him from feeling guilty when he heard the name Sarah, oh, and he couldn't even remember when they last dated.

"Women are fickle animals, aren't they?" Michael winked at Watson after Wilton left, "I hope you didn't offend her too much, but they will hold grudges to the end."

Watson laughed dryly, not knowing why he felt uncomfortable talking about this issue in front of Sherlock. "Doctor John Watson." He held out his hand.Before he could shake hands with Professor Michael, the other's hand was held by another strong hand, "Sherlock Holmes, I'm Professor Polk's assistant, and I'm currently helping him organize the lesson plans and arrange the itinerary." Hold After reading it, he shook it slightly, "I heard that you have done a lot of research on the history of ancient Egypt. Oh, the city of Thebes, Tutankhamun, and the high priest are simply fascinating."

"You mean the top ten disasters in Egypt?" Professor Michael's voice was full of interest, not upset because the person who shook hands changed, "Fire rained from the sky, all the wine was turned into blood, and the Holy Spirit beetle?"

"Yes, that's it. Is this all true?" Sherlock looked eager for knowledge.

"The Mummy Returns, it seems that the film really deceived many people," Professor Michael pushed his glasses, "There were indeed ten disasters in ancient Egypt, but unlike in the movie, the ten disasters in ancient Egypt actually refer to Bloody floods, frog plagues, lice plagues, flies plagues, animal plagues, boils, hailstorms, locust plagues, darkness plagues, and firstborn son plagues. Naturally, the cause is not the mummy’s curse, but the Pharaoh’s curse in the Bible. It is a punishment for forcing the Israelites to leave Egypt for not listening to dissuasion. However, in this regard, the film has indeed attracted many people's attention to the history of ancient Egypt, and many legends of ancient Egypt are quite fascinating."

Sherlock seemed a little disappointed, "Then the punishment of insect bite does not exist?"

"That's not true. Insect eating was indeed a punishment in ancient Egypt. Of course, it also said that there were throats cut, feet chopped, etc."

"What about tongue cutting?" Watson couldn't help interjecting, and Sherlock glanced at him.

"Cutting off the tongue, cutting off the tongue, of course, cutting off the tongue is also one of them. Ancient Egypt only used this punishment for betrayers." Professor Michael replied, "Why are you so interested in this?"

"I'm not interested in this," Sherlock changed the subject before Watson could say anything, "I prefer Anubis."

"Oh?" Professor Michael completely abandoned Watson and turned his attention to Sherlock, "Why Anubis, he is the god of death, and besides, he doesn't look very attractive with a jackal head. People like jackals, I think you know, a kind of wild dog that scavenges around graveyards, and that's not a pleasant animal."

"Fair," Sherlock said softly, "Anubis has a scale, and his duty is to weigh the scales of judgment. Every dead person must pass judgment before entering heaven or hell. He will Locke's feather is placed on one side of the scale, and the heart of the deceased is placed on the other side. If the heart weighs as much as the feather, then the person can ascend to heaven and live forever with the gods. If the heart weighs more than the feather, the person will think He is guilty, and he will also be thrown into hell. No matter rich or poor, rich or poor, everyone must use the same standard, absolutely fair."

Watson looked at Sherlock, unable to hide his surprise at all. You must know that the last thing you should say about absolute fairness is from Sherlock. Considering that Anderson, who was satirized by Sherlock every time, With the pickpocketing Donovan and the London criminal class playing around, Watson dares to say that most people will think that the existence of Sherlock is extremely unfair to other people.

"Absolute fairness..." To Watson's surprise, this sentence aroused the other party's interest, "Perhaps absolute fairness does not exist at all, and everyone is faced with a choice, right?" He offered to ask With a left hand, "It's a pleasure to chat with you, but I have other work, and I may have to go first." He unilaterally ended the conversation.

"Of course, if there is a chance next time..." Sherlock enthusiastically held the other's hand.

"Arthur Michael, you have the right to visit me at any time." Professor Michael finally smiled at them and left.

"Sherlock, Charlotte..." Watson followed Sherlock who walked out quickly after breaking up with Michael. The latter was pressing back and forth on the BlackBerry while reaching out to hail a taxi on the side of the road.

"Sherlock, where are you going?" Watson stood there a little sadly when he saw the detective get into the car but didn't let him get into the car at all.

"Left hand, he shook my hand twice differently." Sherlock's tone was a little impatient, "If you want to come up, hurry up, otherwise don't come up."

In fact, Sherlock will sometimes be like this when he is immersed in the case wholeheartedly. He will forget to greet Watson, forget his assistant, and just rush forward when he gets the clue.So Watson's rationality told him that he shouldn't care about it, because he already knew that Sherlock was such a person.But not now, when he was provoked to feel guilty towards Sarah, Watson suddenly couldn't figure out why he