The Park

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It was an hour or two later,  after they had finished their meals and had headed to the park, that Sherlock texted her.
‘I won. SH.’
She showed John the text. “He always does in the end. I think Mycroft just gets sick of the childish arguments. He’s ‘above’ that.”
‘Will return soon. With John. Bye. Avery.’ She texted back.
“You don’t do the initial thing?” John asked.
She shrugged. “Sometimes. When I’m doing something important. Not when I’m talking to my brother. He doesn’t seem to care.” She added with a hint of sadness.
He looked at her, unsure whether he should comfort her or not. Suddenly she perked up.
“So, come on! Let’s get a cab! You know, one not hired by Mycroft. You never know with him. He could try something underhand.” She smiled and grabbed his hand. “Off we go!” and she pulled him forward and they ran through the park towards the road. John panted slightly.
“Was there a reason for that?”
“Do we need a reason?”
“Sort of. Maybe more warning next time?”
“Sure,” she grinned as she hailed a taxi. “Baker Street please.”

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