[Shen Xia] Britannia Rose

221B.

The cold rain is rustling, like continuous spider silk, crackling and pounding in the puddles on the square stone brick floor, and a low-key and simple black umbrella is slowly propped up from the red eaves of the coffee shop in front of 221B. rise.

Mycroft was standing at the entrance of the coffee shop smoking a cigarette. The passers-by were almost in a hurry, not paying any attention to this well-dressed man holding a black umbrella, and he lowered the umbrella so that he could not see clearly His condensed gaze under the umbrella.

With his left hand, he wrapped a stack of documents in a transparent file folder and pressed them on his chest. The smoke that he exhaled almost hit the raindrops before being ruthlessly smashed to the ground by the roll.

And his elegance and calmness are in stark contrast to the military doctor who walked quickly to the coffee shop in the rain after a while.

Watson turned up his collar. He was very thankful that the green jacket he was wearing today was waterproof. Although it made him look like a drowned chicken, he still felt better psychologically.

"You don't smoke." Watson frowned and squinted to prevent the rainwater from entering his eyes.

"I never come to cafes either."

As if he had been waiting for him, McCoff neatly put away the little black umbrella, and strode into the coffee shop with his briefcase in hand.

"This is the file of Irene Adler," Mycroft put the transparent folder on the table, leaning back on the chair with his back straight, even in a casual coffee shop, he still couldn't help With a sense of oppression from a high position for a long time, "The file is permanently closed, I am going to notify my brother..."

Watson lowered his head and touched the file bag lightly with his finger. Although there was no moisture as expected, it was very cold.

"Or if you want, it's up to you," McCoff paused, "She has applied for the Witness Protection Program in the United States, with a new name and a new identity, and she will be alive and healthy, but he will never see her again .”

"Would he care? In the end, he abandoned her, and he didn't mention her name, just said Thewoman..." Before Watson finished speaking, a cup of steaming latte was suddenly handed to him. He had a good temper Say thank you.

"A name is just a code name, isn't it?"

Watson's hand holding the coffee almost trembled, and he finally raised his eyes and realized that it was Isabella who was "disguised" as a waiter in the cafe.

"Ahem... Ah, Isabella..." Watson frantically tried to pull a chair for her, but was gently stopped by the other party.

Isabella smiled and sat on the seat next to her.

"...Is that disgust or praise, unique, the only woman he cares about." Mycroft continued.

"He's not that kind of person." Watson retorted firmly.

At the same time, Isabella couldn't help complaining to him in a low voice: "Are you sure you didn't exclude Mrs. Holmes?"

"Well, I don't think he feels that way," said Watson.

"My brother's brain is comparable to that of a scientist or a philosopher, but he chose to be a detective. How much can we infer about his heart?"

"I do not know."

"I don't know," agreed Mycroft, "but his original dream was to be a pirate."

"He should be able to accept the Witness Protection Plan, and he will be fine if we can't meet again." Watson said thoughtfully.

Isabella, who was listening quietly at the side, had already shifted her gaze out of the window. Large and large raindrops were falling down the eaves. Did not care.

"I agree," Mycroft took a deep breath, "so I decided to tell him so."

Watson's expression froze, he was stunned for a few seconds and asked, "What's the truth?"

"She's dead."

The sudden female voice made Watson turn his head to look, but Isabella didn't intend to join their conversation at all, and was still looking out of the window in a daze.

And McCoff met Watson's eyes again, nodded slowly, and confirmed Isabella's statement, "Two months ago, she was captured by a terrorist organization in Karachi and beheaded."

"..." Watson was silent for a while, "Are you sure it's her? She cheated once."

"I promise to be safe this time. If Sherlock Holmes wants to deceive me, I don't think he is there, right? So..." Mycroft pushed the folder on the desktop over, "How do we and Sherlock said?"

"Just follow the plan you mentioned. It's pretty good. Anyway, Sherlock won't show it no matter whether he hates it or praises it. Let's just pretend that he doesn't care." Isabella twirled the fringe of the tablecloth, The line of sight still falls outside the window.

Now even Mycroft couldn't help asking, "What are you looking at?"

"I'm counting when it rains on the streets of London whether there are more people with umbrellas or more people without umbrellas."

"The result?" Mycroft asked.

"It depends on how much the umbrella sellers at the subway entrance have bought." Isabella blinked.

Watson couldn't help laughing.

"..." Mycroft stood up with a small black umbrella, and he left the file bag to Watson, "Then follow what we said, you can take him upstairs and tell Sherlock, and Isa Bella, if you have finished your mid-term assignment recently, you will go back to Buckingham Palace for a few days, I think Her Royal Highness Princess Matilda may have a lot to say to you after hearing the news."

"What? Is it cursing Irene Adler for being a blackmailer, or is she crying about the death of her lover?"

"Maybe it's both." Mycroft shrugged.

"In my opinion, not necessarily," Isabella pouted, "but I will go back to the palace."

After watching Mycroft leave with an umbrella, Isabella and Watson looked at each other and smiled helplessly.

"So, do you really want to tell Sherlock like that?" Watson raised the file bag.

"The happy ending of the fairy tale he finally made up for his younger brother may comfort Sherlock if he tells it."

"Uh...you're quite right."

Although the coffee shop is only one step away from 221B, Isabella still held up the umbrella gracefully. She looked at Watson who turned up her collar and rushed into the rain, and issued an invitation: "Do you want to be together?"

"No, I don't need this," Watson shook his head, "I'm probably the Brit who wouldn't even buy an umbrella when passing the subway."

As he said that, Watson stepped up the steps in three steps and two steps and opened the door.

Isabella laughed out loud. She followed Watson into 221B, put away the umbrella and put it on the umbrella stand.

"It seems that you have news to tell me." Sherlock didn't even lift his eyelids, his eyes were fixed on the microscope. "If it's the Leeds triple murder case, the murderer is a gardener, so no one noticed the earring?"

"Well, no, it's about Irene Adler."

Hearing this name, Sherlock finally raised his head to look at Watson, "What? Is something wrong? She's back?"

"No...uh..."

"In short, we met your brother downstairs just now. He was going to answer the phone, so he asked John to bring these documents." Isabella took the conversation and said kindly.

"Has she returned to London?"

"...emmmm," Watson looked left and right to avoid staring at him. In the end, he took a deep breath and met those blue eyes that could see through all lies, "She is in America."

"U.S?"

"Witness Protection Program," Isabella reminded.

"Well, yes, she applied for the Witness Protection Program, I don't know how she did it... So, you know, you can't see her again," Watson said in one breath.

"Why do I want to see her again?" Sherlock subconsciously retorted indifferently.

"Yes, of course you don't want to see her again. You don't need to." Isabella said meaningfully.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"This is her file?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm going to return it to Mycroft, you want..."

"No." Sherlock refused Watson very simply.

"But I think you might want this," Isabella took the document bag from Watson's hand, and took out the mobile phone inside and put it on the corner of Sherlock's desk, "For a thought or something."

"..." Sherlock didn't speak, nor did he raise his head, as if he was still studying his microorganisms.

"Did she text you again after that?" Watson asked.

"Once a few months ago."

"What did you say?"

"Good-bye, Mr. Holmes."

Watson pursed his lips and lowered his footsteps. He and Isabella nodded, and went to return the Mycroft file first.

At this time, only Isabella and Sherlock were left in the room. She stopped at the door and said before leaving: "I hope you didn't forget to fill up the fuel tank of my plane."

The author has something to say:

Abba Abba has been busy with her studies recently... ps: Do you understand the last sentence of the heroine ~ maybe it's a bit cryptic?

感谢在2021-08-2000:54:45~2021-08-3122:46:48期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

感谢灌溉营养液的小天使：海倫.梅爾約林、最爱抖森本尼20瓶；非洲酋长、陌上薰厘10瓶；君暮笙7瓶；Snape酥玖5瓶；霏花3瓶；瑾2瓶；沈遇安1瓶；

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