Chapter Text
It was similar for the next several months. They corresponded with the guise of dating apps - several, just in case, much to Mycroft and Sherlock both's dismay - for Sherlock to report current status and Mycroft to relay information.
And after three months, Sherlock snapped. Even though there were chaotic termoils after Moriarty's death, Sherlock has to lay low and be careful just in case - Mycroft was adamant with it -, which means a lot of observatory ones like at Rennes and lots of downtime between cities. Sherlock was BORED.
Sherlock was sprawled face down at his bed for the time being and just breathing. Which is insanely boring.
Finally, contrary to his better judgement, he picked up his current phone from the nightstand. There were several more similar urges before this, which he managed to talk him out of it thankfully, but he just can't stand anymore. He needs some kind of stimulation, any kind, and he has enough common sense - he scoffed at the terminology - to know he couldn't resort to drugs during his tour.
William : [ What are you doing right now? ]
It didn't take much for Mycroft to respond. He never does, in case there's some kind of emergency.
Leo : [ Working, I'm afraid. But I can be persuaded to take some time off. What do you have in mind? ]
So not in the meeting right now, and he's asking if something's wrong. Sherlock clenched his hand around the phone for a moment before start typing again. He already contacted Mycroft, and he will know this is not his usual work-related message anyway even if Sherlock decided to stop.
William : [ No, but I was sure you could come up with something. ]
Leo : [ Oh.]
Oh? Mycroft sent Oh? Mycroft never sends something so meaningless. Sherlock arched his brow at such unusual behavior from his brother. He must be really rattled that Sherlock contacted him during his boredom. Which, to be fair, didn't happen since Mycroft took off to university. Even though Sherlock couldn't contact anyone else right now, it's not like he contacted Mycroft before Lestrade or John.
Sherlock huffed at Mycroft being so unsettled at small thing like this. And intrigued. He never managed to rile him up this easily before. It could be fun. Or at least it might reduce this brain-melting boredom.
Leo : [ I am glad that you thought of me while you are bored. What do you say about solving some puzzles? ]
It didn't take long for Mycroft to gather himself and send another message. Only a few seconds. Damn. But it could be equivalent to an hour considering it's Mycroft. Anyway, puzzles. Hmm.
William : [ Depends on their complexity. ]
Leo : [ You know I have access to scripts from crime dramas, which you assured me that you didn't watch. What about figuring out villains of each episode? And for my defense, I did not write those scripts, so spare me if some plots are too straightforward. ]
Sherlock jumped up from the bed. So Mycroft will send him case files. Cases from secret service? No, they are too sensitive to be sent outside, especially the ones Sherlock will find interesting. And if he's being honest, Mycroft doesn't need Sherlock to solve the ones that doesn't need extra legwork. Yard's, then. Most of it will be idiotic, but maybe Mycroft will sensor some truly idiotic ones? Right now, he is too bored to gladly - with loud complaints if John's here - take 4. Not below that, though. He still have some standards.
Sherlock typed the message excitedly.
William : [ I need it, give it to me. ]
Leo : [ Bossy, aren't we? Give me an hour to gather a few. ]
An hour? Mycroft must be really busy right now or he will select some good ones, then. Sherlock stilled for a second, considering whether to send thanks or not. He discarded the idea swiftly. He must really be out of his own mind if he is considering it, even if it's just for the sake of maintaining the cover.
Sherlock dove back to the bed, having to spend one more hour of excruciating waiting. Mycroft should hurry.