[Shen Xia] Britannia Rose

"Can you take this dog away from 221B? Of course it would be great if you could disappear with it."

After waiting for a long time, he finally regained his sanity that he had been offline for a long time. Sherlock held a newspaper in his hand, and he sat on his exclusive sofa with the same calm expression as usual.

"I don't see 221B No Dogs is posted downstairs, and besides, Mrs. Hudson loves it, doesn't she, Scott?" Isabella held the corgi by the back of its neck, and it stared at Sherlock. The trousers of the suit are about to move.

"Don't call that name!" Shouted Sherlock.

At the same time, strange footsteps were heard on the stairs.

The person came at a slow pace, as if coming to 221B was just an activity to digest food after a meal, and as his footsteps fell, there was also the sound of crisp metal objects hitting the ground.

"Oh...the fat man is here again." Sherlock, who could hear the sound, rolled his eyes, and covered his face with newspapers.

"Good morning, my dear brother," Mycroft seemed to be in a good mood, using an umbrella as a stick, "I heard that you were slapped by Thewoman...I'm here to express my condolences to you."

"Come on, you just came to watch the fun." Sherlock said dissatisfied.

"How come, don't you know? I care about you very much," Mycroft paced slowly, he glanced at Isabella who was sitting on the single sofa on the other side, and then stood behind her, " When Inspector Lestrade sent me the photo, well, I was quite surprised."

"What photo?" Isabella asked curiously.

"SHUTUP!" Sherlock was furious, he said angrily, "Are you here to laugh at me?"

"No, of course not," Mycroft put away his teasing tone and said seriously, "I want to ask about Thewoman."

"The photos are safe." Sherlock didn't look up.

Mycroft puts one hand in his pocket and holds an umbrella in the other. Perhaps because it is too cold outside, he wears a knee-length black windbreaker over his usual three-piece black suit and wears a In the bitter cold air.

"Safety in the hands of a fugitive sex worker?" Mycroft felt incredible.

"She doesn't want to blackmail anyone, she just wants... to be protected, I don't know why," Sherlock paused, "I think you should withdraw from the police investigation into the shooting at her home?"

"She has the photo in her hand, what can we do, we can't do anything..." Mycroft lowered his hand and put it lightly on Isabella's shoulder.

"She sure likes your wording, do you see what's going on? That camera phone is her get-out-of-jail medal, you gotta let her go and treat her like royalty, Mycroft."

"Wait...Allow me to intervene," Isabella paused slightly while stroking the dog's head, and she looked at Sherlock like a monster, "Although I have many dissatisfaction with the royal family...but I objectively By the way, you are insulting the royal family by saying that."

Mycroft sneered inaudibly.

"Ah~"

Mycroft's expression froze instantly.

"What's that?" The expression on Watson's face was wonderful.

"Emmmm...it seems to be the phone ringing?" Isabella stared at Sherlock, "It has been ringing this morning."

"SMS." Sherlock put away the newspaper.

"But the voice?" Watson asked.

Sherlock got up and picked up his mobile phone from the fireplace, "Did you know there was someone else staring at her, Mycroft? Did you know before you sent me and John? It seems to be a professional killer from the CIA."

"They're not bad," Watson remarked. "Yes, thank you, Mycroft."

"It's so good to send your brother to that kind of dragon's den and tiger's lair..." Mrs. Hudson came out of the restaurant suddenly, and while she was clearing the table, she babbled at McCall, "You only have family to rely on, McCall. Holmes!"

"Oh, shutdown, Mrs Hudson!" Mycroft blurted out.

Now even Isabella couldn't stand it anymore, and the three of them shouted in unison, "Mycroft!"

Mycroft is used to being in a high position and giving orders to others. It was the first time he was suddenly glared at and reprimanded. His face changed and changed before he suppressed the anger in his heart and smiled stiffly, "Sorry."

"CIA?!" Isabella looked at McCoff in disbelief, she patted McCoff's hand on her shoulder, and asked in a raised voice, "Why didn't you tell Sherlock?! What if What should I do if something goes wrong?"

Mycroft looked down at Isabella, he hesitated to speak.

"Thank you." Mrs. Hudson accepted McCoff's apology.

"You do need to shut up though," Sherlock whispered.

"Ah~"

"She's not going to do anything, at least I don't think so." Sherlock continued flipping through his pile of newspapers.

"What are you talking about?" Isabella wanted to take Sherlock's head apart to see if his memory palace was still working, "There was Moriarty standing behind her, and you said she didn't know anything Can’t do it? Did the two of you brothers go offline together because of their IQs today?”

Mycroft, who was scolded innocently: "..."

"Anyway, not at the moment." Sherlock said coldly.

"I can set the highest monitoring level for her." Mycroft gave another plan.

"Why bother, you can follow her itinerary just by looking at Twitter, I think her username is Queen of the Summit."

"Yeah, it's really interesting," Mycroft looked down at the ringing phone, "Sorry, excuse me."

"Why does your phone make that sound?" Watson asked.

"That's the sound of a text message, which proves that I have received a text message."

"Your text message won't call me a bed..." Watson finished speaking and found that Isabella was still sitting on the sofa. Seeing this, he quickly changed the subject, "Uh, right? That's not very polite, it's too... People are delusional."

"Someone took my phone, apparently as a joke, and changed the text message ringtone."

"There's no need to reason," Isabella stood up and looked down at Sherlock. "It was set by that woman. I just can't understand it. Do I need to remind you? Caring is not advantage, Sherlock."

"What are you trying to say? I'm fine, of course I'm staying sane."

"No, you didn't. You knew she was a woman who held countless people in her hands and even dared to threaten the British government, but you spoke for her again and again, didn't you? I thought you were her defense sent this morning Where's the lawyer!" Isabella said coldly.

"Uh, calm down, Isabella." Watson tried to calm her down.

With that said, Mycroft made a phone call and entered the door, "The implementation of the Bond Air program has been decided. I will check with Coventry and talk about it later."

"What else does she have?" Sherlock said to Mycroft. Seeing that the other party seemed not to understand, he put the newspaper away and put it close to McCoff's ear, "Irene Adler, American You won't be interested in her just for a few sensitive photos, she still has something, a lot. Something big is going to happen, right?"

"Irene Adler has nothing to do with you. From now on, don't meddle in this matter." Mycroft was unmoved.

"Oh, really? Just like the old John? Just like what you did to him back then? Say something about Sherlock, don't you interfere?" Sherlock stared into Mycroft's eyes, the second brother The atmosphere among the people dropped to freezing point, and the smell of gunpowder was so strong that even Watson noticed it.

"Wait, what John before? Who else?" Watson asked.

"Sherlock's roommate from a long time ago was still at Cambridge University." Isabella explained in a low voice.

"Okay, excuse me, I have to go and apologize to my old friend for many years." Mycroft lowered his head and twirled the tip of the umbrella.

And Sherlock has already picked up his violin, and sent a classic "Send the Plague God" to his brother, "Say hello to her for me."

Mycroft endured his unhappiness, and before going downstairs, he said, "Don't forget to go home for Christmas, my mother specially asked me to."

"Didn't mother tell you to take the other half of the ring home?" Sherlock said mercilessly.

"What?" Isabella looked at Mycroft in surprise, "Mrs. Holmes?"

"I think you have to go back to Buckingham Palace to send Scott off later?" Mycroft looked down at the corgi who only knew how to eat and smiled, "Isabella, I can give you a ride, anyway, our destination it's the same."

"..." Isabella hadn't forgiven him for cheating on Sherlock, so she hesitated and didn't agree or refuse.

"Comeon, I think you don't want to listen to this kind of soul-destroying music for another second?" Mycroft stretched out his hand in a gentlemanly manner, waiting for her reply quietly.

"OK." Isabella shrugged, picked up the corgi, ignored McCoff's outstretched hand, and went downstairs first.

Mycroft was brushed off, and Sherlock gave him a schadenfreude smile.

"This seems to be a real quarrel." Watson murmured softly, looking at the back of McCoff.

Downstairs, Anthea opened the rear door of the car for Isabella, who was holding a dog in her arms. Behind her, Mycroft also came out from 221B. His long black windbreaker fluttered in the cold wind. Even more grim.

"Buckingham Palace, Sir?" Anthea confirmed the itinerary.

"Yes." Mycroft nodded, and the shedding corgi huffed and wanted to pounce on him, but was tightly held by Isabella in her arms.

"Scott, be honest!" she reprimanded.

"It's much more polite than when I was a child." Mycroft seemed to have nothing to say.

"Yes." Isabella said indifferently.

"I guess it doesn't have a good appetite recently, you should pay more attention to its hair loss."

"Okay."

"It is not normal for animals to shed hair frequently in winter."

"Yes."

"..." Mycroft pursed his lips and said affirmatively, "You are angry. Is it because of the CIA?"

"No, how could it be." Isabella also responded to what McCoff said back then.

"Sherlock is not a child, he can handle everything."

"I know." Isabella said without interest.

"...Then why are you angry?"

"I don't want to quarrel, Mycroft." Isabella kept her head down and didn't even look at him, "I just think that maybe your decision at the beginning was wrong and I shouldn't hand Irene over to Sherlock to deal with it." .You look at how he's been this morning...it's not quite right, isn't it?"

"Maybe," Mycroft was noncommittal. He was silent for a while, and he asked when the car was about to turn into Buckingham Palace. want to see you."

"You told them about me?"

"No, mom just infers my relationship status from the ring on my finger and some words from Sherlock, but she doesn't know who the other party is." Mycroft paused a lot, as if he was trying to decide the words, he tried his best Keep your tone tactful.

"But according to the usual Christmas, I will attend the royal dinner, which will be on Christmas Eve." Isabella said in embarrassment.

"I know, after the banquet, or the next day, I will pick you up."

"...Do I have to prepare anything?" Isabella had met the kind Holmes couple a long time ago, but this time she went in a different capacity, and she was still a little nervous.

"I don't need anything, just knowing this is enough for Mommy to cry with joy, I can imagine it." Mycroft said helplessly.