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“So... Mycroft Holmes! I didn’t think I’d get to meet you, very... sedentary, I’ve heard.” Kate looked at him straight in the eye. His frown deepened. “Mind you, we had a run in with your brother earlier this year. Funny how those little memory erasing devices work, isn’t it? He couldn’t pick me out of a line up without there being large flashing arrows around me.”
“My brother is really good at reading people.” Mycroft said matter-of-factly.
“He also shares some latent misogyny with you, and it might just play to my advantage.” She replied with a smirk.
There was a pause during which they stared at one another in expectation of the next move. This was chess, or so Mycroft thought. Kate was playing bridge. The two games were not compatible.
Suddenly, the door behind her opened, Mycroft’s assistant showing two people in. That was not part of the plan. Those were not the rules. The rules were just the two of them, no witnesses, no reports, just a little heads up between not really esteemed colleagues who hadn’t even met yet.
“Mycroft.” The voice coming from behind her made her close her eyes in annoyance. Sherlock Holmes. Of course. She had been outplayed, or so she’d lead them to believe.
“Sherlock.” Mycroft replied coolly. Kate wasn’t surprised; in fact she didn’t believe Mycroft could reply to anything more human-like than coolly. Maybe she should have checked he was human, but then again it would have taken ages to scan the whole building.
Sherlock was looking at her. She stared back. He looked her up and down, and she put her hands on her hips, slowly twirling on the spot, with a little smirk Mycroft couldn’t help but admire. She had nerves.
“You are very sure of yourself, which is rare if not unheard of in my brother’s office. You seem to know who I am, but I don’t recall your face, so either you fly very low under the radar, or you are utterly unimportant. By your behaviour, I think you believe yourself to be the former, but actually are the later.” The more he talked, the larger her smirk.
Mycroft briefly covered his eyes as he sighed. This is not what he had meant when he asked (ordered) his brother to come in to crosscheck someone. He thought he might be interested, but he looked utterly bored. Bother.
“You are not military, or even work with them, from your outfit. It wouldn’t be at all pertinent in a science related field either. Journalist, perhaps?” He smirked. She laughed.
“He really is something, isn’t he?” She said, looking at Mycroft.
“So is DI Lestrade, hello!” She turned to the man standing to Sherlock’s right. He looked utterly baffled. She could see Mycroft frowning.
“We keep tabs.” She said, winking. She could have sworn his face had almost moved. Horror? Anger? Annoyance? Possibly all of those things, hard to tell with someone who made the stiff upper lip into an art.
“Any reason they are here, despite our very strict agreement, other than trying to either impress or intimidate me?” She was facing Mycroft, ignoring the other two. She could almost feel Lestrade looking at Sherlock questioningly. She imagined he did that a lot.
“I believe we might need them.” Mycroft stated.
“Maybe you do.” She replied.
“I also asked for your assistant to be escorted here.” He said. He could see a flicker of... something, in her eyes. Check.
“Thank you for the meagre attempt at restoring some sort of gender balance.” She said. “Hardly necessary, really, I wouldn’t do the work I do if I felt threatened by masculinity.”
Shortly afterwards, a soft knock on the door announced the arrival of Osgood. She had clearly been made to go down the stairs faster than she usually was, and was wheezing slightly. Her wheezing intensified when she took in the people in the room.
After a moment of silence, she walked over to Kate, who whispered ‘Inhaler’ to her, softly, but audibly enough that all would hear it.
“Protective... interesting.” Sherlock said.
“Goldfish...” He added, an odd emphasis on the f, as if the world was slipping through his lips. Mycroft gulped, looking at Lestrade, betraying exactly what Sherlock needed to know.
“Well, it is a rather cramped bowl, isn’t it.” Kate added. She seemed to be the only person in the room who wasn’t ill at ease.
“And it’s going to get even more cramped in a minute. DI Lestrade, I suggest you move over towards the centre of the room, yes, right there. We have a... let’s say unexpected visitor.” Kate smiled at Mycroft.
She had sent a message to the Doctor. She was practically certain he would be there. She hoped he would be, because if he didn’t turn up she would look like a fool, and that was not something she enjoyed.
What worried her most was that she had no idea which face had received the message, and it could be any of them, and even she wasn’t prepared for that. Of course, they had files, but she didn’t fancy introducing herself, not with company there.
When the blue box materialised, they all held their breath. Mycroft had been trying, and failing, to discreetly reach his desk to hit the distress button. DI Lestrade was the least baffled. Or maybe he was so used to being baffled that he took it in his stride to having to wait for someone to do some explaining. Osgood took an extra step towards Kate, who actually felt better having her close. Sherlock’s mind was reeling, and Kate couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of him being completely out of his depth. He had caused too much trouble in the past not to.
The door opened rather more forcefully than was strictly necessary, and out came a tall, grey haired, walking pair of eyebrows.
“Kate.” He said.
“Doctor.” She replied.
So he knew her. Good. Hopefully she hadn’t missed anything.
“This better be good.” He answered grumpily. He had a Scottish accent. Oh boy, let him not have a Scottish temper! He was shaking his psychic paper, for all to see. She observed Sherlock, wondering if he could see anything on it.
“Oy, Ash boy, that paper of yours was rubbish by the way, what are you doing here?” He asked Sherlock.
“Kate...” The tone of the Doctor’s voice indicated that he wanted answers, preferably a century ago. Mycroft tried his hardest to look smug, but he mostly looked alarmed.
“Doctor, this is Mycroft Holmes” Kate pointed towards him. “He is...”
“A pain in the ass?” the Doctor offered, unhelpfully.
“Well, yes, but that’s not why we’re here.”
“Good. Is he always this stuck up?” the Doctor asked, acting as if they were alone in the room.
“Well, he normally has an umbrella around...” She replied. Lestrade was trying to hide a smirk. Sherlock wasn’t even trying.
“So, you’re... police?” Lestrade started, hoping to start a civilised conversation. He understood very quickly that keeping his mouth shut from now on would probably be a better option. The Doctor had glared, which was all the more impressive with the eyebrows this version sported, Osgood had let out a small laugh she disguised as a cough. Kate wasn’t quite as subtle. Mycroft just looked baffled, and Sherlock was clearly still trying to stomach the ash reference. Or maybe he was trying and failing to read the Doctor.
Suddenly, Mycroft seemed to realise what was going on. “Bigger on the inside.” He whispered to himself. He turned to Kate. She looked at him, and replied, for all to hear.
“You’re the one who brought civilians into this.” Her voice was sharp, making Sherlock look at her, about to say something when the Doctor interrupted.
“Kate?” From her voice, she knew it would be the last utterance of her name before he flew off if she didn’t give him an explanation.
“Doctor, this is Mycroft Holmes, you could say he is the... everyday life counterpart of what we do. I wanted to make sure future cooperation was possible.” She said. “On both sides.” She added, looking pointedly at them both.
“What about the two pudding brains?” He asked, pointing at Sherlock and Lestrade.
“Unimportant.” She added. “Their memories will be wiped.”
“Safety protocols.” She told them.
“And how do you expect to achieve that?” Sherlock asked. “Hypnosis?”
“Do you remember the fourth of May of this year?” She asked. He thought for a moment, then thought again. She smiled. “I thought not.”
“Osgood, could you escort them out and make sure they’re taken care of?” She asked her assistant who eagerly nodded. “Make it quick.” She added, Osgood suddenly looking a bit less enthusiastic, she had hoped she could have a word with them before they were... gone.
Once they were gone, the Doctor turned to her and said, with an almost admiring tone: “Your father would not have approved.”
She sighed.
“My father did not have to arm wrestle with him!” She said.
Mycroft gulped. This wasn’t chess anymore, or bridge. He was outnumbered, and at least one of person in this room was an alien, of the outer space sort. This is not how he expected the meeting to go. Then again, with UNIT, he should have known to expect the unexpected.