Sherlock: His Enigma Called A

Brothers {Adelaide}

To my surprise, I’m actually dropped back off at the bookstore. Anthea returns my phone and I hurry back upstairs to get my stuff to head out for work. I hope I’m not late!!

I run up the stairs and bump into Sherlock, who’s expression of worry fades instantly when he recognizes me, “Adelaide, where were you?!”


“You haven’t been answering texts and-“

“Sherlock, I’m alright, okay? I was just,..” Should I tell him? I pause mid-sentence. Sherlock’s eyes narrow and he grasps my shoulders.

“Just what, Adelaide?”

I decide to tell him, “I-I got a text telling me to go outside and get in a car earlier this morning. They ended up taking me to your brother-“

“Mycroft? And why weren’t you answering your phone?”

“He had his assistant confiscate it in the car.”

Sherlock releases my shoulders, “So you’ve now made Mycroft’s acquaintance?”

I nod slowly, “Yes. He still doesn’t seem happy about our relationship but…”


“I think I caught him off guard…”

“What did you say to him?”

“Um… I told him that he was sentimental…”

“And he didn’t arrest you?”

I shake my head, “No. I told him why he’s sentimental and then he said that because you’re inexperienced that-“

“That I would be a bad romantic partner to you?” I nod and he sighs, “Mycroft has a far worse understanding of human sentiment. He strives to be perfectly logical and free of emotion. He sees little benefit in sentiment and endeavors to keep me from it as well. Did he say anything to insult you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Sherlock peers over me, “You didn’t have breakfast before he stole you away, did you?”

“Do, I didn’t. I was planning on picking up breakfast since I don’t want to be late for work-“

“Already done.” I hear a voice from behind and whip around to find my younger brother Finley holding a bag with takeout containers. I smile.

“Hey, Finn!”

“Hullo, Ada,” I give him a short hug and he eyes Sherlock, who is looking him over as well.”

Talk about timing. I might never make it to work.

I step back and gesture, “Sherlock, this is my brother Finley Cavanagh.”

They reach forward and civilly shake each other’s hands. Sherlock greets, “Hello, Finley.”

“Finley, this is Sherlock Holmes. My boyfriend.”

“Hello, Sherlock.”

Finley is just about Sherlock’s height with an athletic build, dark blue eyes, somewhat shaggy ash blonde hair, and a tan from his frequent trips to the Mediterranean. He’s plays Football and is currently in art school, but is also a gamer. Of course Sherlock probably has deduced all this already.

Sherlock clears his throat, “Seeing as Adelaide has not eaten yet and you brought breakfast, we should probably allow her to eat so that she can get to work on time. I believe she is working the Rescue team today.”

Finley looks at me and I nod to confirm Sherlock’s statement. He sighs, “Alright then. Inside?”

“Oh, yeah. Come on.” I weave past Sherlock and unlock my flat, letting them in. Finley carries the bag in and sets it on the table while I go around and collect my things, stepping into my room. At least they are getting along right now.

I end up staying in my room for a bit to see how they interact with each other and when I exit I find Finley grilling Sherlock, “Finn, what are you doing?”

“I’m your brother, Ada, it’s my job to interview your boyfriend and make sure he’s not a psychopath.” He retorts.

I almost laugh, knowing that Sherlock is restraining himself from telling Finley right off that he’s a sociopath. I walk up and whisper to Sherlock, “I need to eat and get going. I’ll let you finish talking here, then?” I know him well enough to notice the sudden panic in his eyes, “He won’t bite, I promise.”

“It’s fine. I gotta get to class anyway. We’ll finish later.” Finley pipes up.

I nod, “Alright then. Thanks for the breakfast, Finn.” We hug briefly and I see him out, allowing him to say a curt farewell to and study Sherlock one last time. Once he’s gone, Sherlock exhales.

“I’m debating which is worse. Mycroft’s interrogation or Finley’s interview?”

“Sherlock, he’s just being protective. Once he’s sure you’re not planning on killing me or hurting me, he’ll be fine,” I peck him on the cheek, “Now, have you had breakfast today, Sherlock?”


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