Sherlock Holmes Mycroft Novels & Stories

he responded. “You also told her to send the information to your phone. It’s not dead. Of course, assuming that you’re a detective wannabe, you have deleted the text you sent so she won’t know its contents. Did I get that right?” I smiled when he slowly nodded. I am confident that I’m a good detective and probably next to the great Sherlock Holmes. Similar to him, I have always worked my cases alone. That is until he met Dr. John Watson, which apparently I don’t have.

After much debate I left her reluctantly. After dropping Bethany at her home I directly went to my penthouse.I shaved, showered and put on fresh clothes. While my chef has prepared pasta for me,I wasn't in the mood of eating.I don't know why but I was having a bad feeling. Just then there was a knock and in came my detective.No one knows his real name but he is called Sherlock.Cliched much right? "Hello there Mr.Sherlock.How have you been?" "I'm doing fine Mr.Martin.Your father gave me this case about your girlfriend's accident."

"What else do you want, Sherlock? We almost destroyed Moonlight pack for you." Sherlock smirked. "Took you long enough to ask. There's one more thing that needs to be done." I arched a brow. "Which is?" His smile broadened. "Michael Donovan." Jeremy and I exchanged glances, confusion etched on our faces. Michael Donovan???

I had to admit I hadn't exactly thought much of it when I decided to take Connor and Theodore with me to grocery shopping. I guess I'd gotten too used to being a normal couple while we were married and simply forgotten that Connor wasn't just the youngest Mycroft son anymore. He was the CEO of one of the largest construction companies in the world, and as such, he and his son needed to have security to match.

The mayor, City Council members and the Chief of Police, all hoping and praying the madness would cease. And Conner. Perched on his couch, yellow pad and pen beside him, DVR set to record so he could analyze and dissect what he saw. Mycroft Holmes, remaining above the fray, ready to help from a distance. Telling himself he could remain untouched by the madness. Praying that he was right.

Mycroft Sherlock was one of the most powerful fighters of the Cheever family, and was tasked with guarding the heirs of the family. “How dare you harm the young master, little brat!” Mycroft’s thunderous roar shook everyone to their cores. “Kill him, Uncle Sherlock!” When he saw Mycroft arrive, Garth, who had just been panicking and shaking in fear moments ago, seemed to have found his savior. Tyr turned and gave him a cold, deadly stare. “Uncle Sherlock is here, Tyr Summers. How dare you glare at me like that? I’ll gouge your eyes out in a heartbeat!”

Connor grumbled playfully. Despite the appearance of a specter at the feast (I’m quoting Mycroft Holmes to Benedict Cumberbatch in the BBC’s version of Sherlock – go watch the show, it’s awesome), things went well for the rest of the night. The rich people got their opportunity to press the flesh with Connor, the environmentalists raised some money, and I didn’t go to jail for killing Miranda. A moderately passable time was had by all. Until the end.

This was all his fault. Aaron Bridges was my captain back at the fraud department. He volunteered one of his detectives for a temporary transfer to homicide, and I managed to be the lucky winner. I silently curse him and everything else before making my way up the front steps. Making my way towards the captain’s office, eyes start following my every move. I knew they were talking about me. I tried to pretend that it didn’t bother me, but man was it hard.

he said soberly “You are welcome” “Goddd! Can't believe I would have been dead now” he chuckled “Thank you, I really appreciate” “Come on detective…” “Decker, call me Decker” he interrupted “You know you are like that girl in the series, Eleven. The moment I was up in the air by that, uhm, what's he name Caterer” “Carter, mum called him Carter” “Yep, whatever. you were like, Get away from him you douchebag”

Sherlock: I don’t know much about you either. Furrowing her brow, Khali expressed her concern. ‘He has no idea who I am. But how did he figure out what I needed to know?’ Khali thought. Khali: Can I name you Sherlock on my phone? Sherlock: Why Holmes? Khali: Sherlock Holmes is my favorite character. Sherlock: You named me after your favorite. Khali: Yeah, you do seem mysterious to me. The same goes for me. Can you tell me my name on your phone?