Orphan on Baker Street

Twenty Seventh: Casual

The following morning, I wake up a lot later than usual. It feels amazing.

"I thought you'd never wake up," Mrs. Hudson chuckles at me as she puts away groceries. "Do you want any of this before I put it away?"

"No, it's fine," I say quickly, not bothering to see what it is she has. I slide a bowl and some Cheerios closer to me on the counter.

"Sherlock said that you two were going out later today. Did you know about that?"

"No. What do you mean by 'going out'?" I move my bowl of cereal to the kitchen table and take a seat. Mrs. Hudson does the same.

"Well, um... I don't know if I should tell you that I know, but he told me about Moriarty," she says nervously, folding her hands on the table.

"So you know what he offered me?"

"Yes, and Sherlock told me that you were going to discuss that today when you went out."

I scoop a spoonful of Cheerios into my mouth, which are slightly soggy by now. There's no more talk about the situation after that, so I finish my breakfast in silence while Mrs. Hudson goes off to do her thing. When I finish, I return to my room to get dressed in something casual and head to Sherlock's flat.

"Knock knock," I say as I open the door.

He turns around to glare at me. "Did you really just do that?"

"I did," I confirm with a smile. Sherlock returns his gaze to sheet music in his hand.

"How come you always have sheet music, but I never hear you play?" I inquire, taking a seat on the couch.

"Because," he tucks the papers into a book, "if it isn't perfect, I'm sure no one wants to hear it. I know I certainly don't."

"Who's it for?" My legs stretch out across the cushions, and I cross my arms.

"It's not for anyone; it's just casual writing," he says, frowning over at me. There's a pause. "If you don't mind, I invited someone to meet us for a late lunch."

"Is it whomever you're writing the music for?"

"No, and I think you misused 'whom'," he says.

"Why did you invite them?"

"It's just a matter that requires a certain... eye that he has."

"John?"

"No."

"Well, then, I guess I should look better than this if we're off to meet a stranger," I say as I stand up from the couch.

"Oh, he's no stranger," Sherlock says as he rolls the cuffs of his sleeves up.

"All the more reason, then," I tell him as I swing the door open.

"Was that supposed to make sense?" he calls after me.

--

After a 20 minute ride, our cab driver pulls to a stop in front of a diner. We get out, and I stare at the building.

"Are we still in London?" I ask dramatically.

Sherlock just chuckles. Then he leads me into the diner, and we take a seat in the back corner. He looks around nervously.

"I take it I'm not fond of the person we're meeting," I say, glancing out the window beside me. People walk and bike past, and I try to find the person that will take a turn into the diner. Then, I see him.

"Sherlock," I whisper angrily, leaning over the table towards him. "Really? Really?"

"Hello, Greg," Sherlock says happily. I roll my eyes as he scoots over for Lestrade to sit beside him.

"It's nice to see you again, Sherlock. You too, Mickey," he says politely.

I laugh. "How's group?"

"It's going pretty well," he replies with a smile. "Thanks... How're you?"

"I'm fine," I say as my eyes glance over to Sherlock. "Did you tell him why we're here? Because you didn't tell me."

"You didn't tell her?" Lestrade asks curiously. "It's about, uh," he lowers his voice a bit, "Moriarty."

"Oh," I say as I remember what Mrs. Hudson said. "Right. Who else knows about this? I assume John and Mary; have you told your high school friends yet? Your brother?"

"Mickey, I wasn't blabbing all over London about it," Sherlock defends. "I just told those who I thought should know..."

"So most of the people I listed."

"No," he protests again. "Just Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade... John already knew."

"So, what is there to discuss?" Lestrade inquires casually. I glance over at him and examine his face.

"A plan," Sherlock says quietly. "We need Mickey to work with Moriarty without him knowing what we're doing."

"You two could have a big fight and just not talk up until Monday," Lestrade interrupts. "I mean, I assume you want her to be a spy." The two continue in a low voice, looking around suspiciously all the while, as I glance between them.

"Of course I want her to do that," Sherlock says with an irritated tone. "But this guy's clever. Don't you think he'll know something's up?"

"Well, he's got every right to be suspicious. Have you met Mickey? She could be trying to kill him, and nobody would know," Lestrade's gaze wanders over to me as he speaks. I try to hold back a smile.

"So, I get we all agree I should accept the offer," I begin quietly, "but what after that?"

"You get close to Moriarty, farther away from me, and when his plan's almost done, I'm there to ruin it. All you're doing is convincing everyone we've stopped talking, but we'll communicate somehow... whether it be with notes in the grocery bag or what have you," Sherlock concludes.

"Wait, if that's it, then why am I here?" Lestrade asks.

"Because you need to get your job back," Sherlock says lowly.

"I never lost it," Lestrade tells him with a frown. I laugh again. "I was just suspended for a little while."

"They didn't fire you?" Sherlock asks incredulously. "Then when are you getting back?"

"Early next month," he replies shyly.

"That's 2 or 3 weeks. What if Moriarty strikes before then? Who's on my side - John?"

"So, you're using me, is that it?" Lestrade asks with a smirk. "You think that just because I'm a detective I'll help you."

"Because you will," Sherlock says flatly.

"Right," Lestrade says with a grin. "I guess I'll see you both again in a few weeks, then?"