The Unexpected Coincidence by Amelia Price

survived its encounter with the window glass.
    He tried not to
appear too obvious when her eyes came in his direction. It made him
feel a little better that she was trying to be careful and see any
potential threats, but it made her more likely to spot him. He
wondered if he should have put more effort into the disguise, but
hiding in plain sight was more Sherlock's sort of thing and he'd
wanted to be quick.
    Letting her walk
ahead, Mycroft followed Amelia along the street towards Sherlock's
flat. Every few hundred metres she took a good look around her,
flicking her hair or pretending to look for a shop to cover her
actions. When a guy almost bumped into her, coming out of a clothes
shop, she bit back a scream and he saw the wild haze of panic in
her eyes before she managed to contain it and move on.
    As she turned the
corner at the end of the road, he hurried to catch up. Mycroft
didn't want her out of his sight for longer than necessary, even if
no one else seemed to be following her.
    It didn't take him
long to get to the end of the road, but a few people gave him odd
looks as he loped down the pavement. He knew they expected him to
pick up litter, but it didn't matter if they were confused.
    He paused at the
end of the road to pick out his quarry from the crowds of people,
but when he looked left to see where Amelia was, he realised she
was gone.
    A cough came from
the doorway just behind him. Amelia stood, half in the shadows, a
slight grin on her face. They stared at each other for a moment. He
took in all the damage to her body. She'd removed the gauze patches
and had an assortment of cuts and several stitches on her eyebrows.
The shopping was also hanging from her left hand, despite her being
right-handed.
    “Hello, Myron,”
she said, a hint of pleasure in her voice. “Not your usual attire.”
    He gave her a fake
smile as she eyed him up and down, and then came up closer so they
could talk without being overheard. He was impressed. Not many
people would have noticed him, even considering his lack of
practice.
    Once he was beside
her, he turned to face the road so they were side by side, but not
looking at each other. He then took her right hand and gently
inspected the wound.
    “Very neat
stitches,” he said to break the silence.
    “Yes, but it will
probably scar and in the meantime I can't write – not by hand,
anyway.”
    Mycroft let go of
her and looked away. He wouldn't say sorry, even if he was glad she
wasn't more hurt.
    “My brother sent
me a message to tell me that you were fine, but staying at Baker
Street with him.”
    “I suppose it
depends on your definition of fine. I'll heal. But yes, I'm staying
with Sebastian. He offered when he heard I'd had another letter and
the police recommended I wasn't alone. They released Guy as well.
He's gone missing since. No one knows where he is.”
    “I'm aware.”
    “Of course you
are.” She shook her head and he picked up on her annoyance. It only
served to flare up his.
    “Given our
arrangement, I'm surprised you didn't ask me to find you
somewhere safe to go.”
    “I did, don't you
remember? About five hours before Guy shoved me through a
window.”
    Mycroft coughed as
a woman walking by stared at them. It was evident she'd heard
Amelia's outburst.
    “I assumed our
arrangement was over anyway,” Amelia managed to say in a calmer
tone. He knew it was a question despite how it was phrased, and he
knew she was providing him with a way to apologise. It was an easy
way out of a situation he didn't feel comfortable in, and he found
himself impressed with her skills for the second time in only a few
minutes. He was starting to understand why Sherlock liked her.
Somehow, she had a way of getting what she wanted.
    “If you can
refrain from turning up at my club unannounced in future, I think I
can be magnanimous enough to allow our arrangement to
continue.”
    “Thank you for
your most gracious leniency.” Every word she said oozed sarcasm and
he found