Chapter Text
Mycroft sat at his desk, looking at the file in front of him, quickly assessing the required information before writing his decision and signature on the final sheet. After placing that file into a bin, he automatically reached for the next briefly glancing at the front to see which crisis would be outlined in this one. Paperwork was commonplace in his life, along with meetings, phone calls and anything else involved in keeping the British Government running smoothly. He was halfway through a summary of a recent MI6 job when his phone rang, interrupting the pace he had set. Glancing at the screen, he sighed, knowing what was in store.
“Yes brother mine?” he answered, anxious to hang up and get back to the looming pile of files Anthea had placed on his desk that morning.
“Come to the flat now”, was the only words he heard, before the man on the other end hung up, cutting off any chance of a reply. Another sigh escaped as he reluctantly put the file down. There was no point fighting his brother on this, even though he could easily win being the smart one of the two, but he knew in the long run it would be easier to appease his child-like brother. The quicker he got over there, the quicker he could return to his job. After putting on his coat and grabbing his black umbrella, he let Anthea know where he would be, then set off in his black car.
The flat looked the same as always. Same smiley face made from bullet holes, same stacks of paper covering most of the surfaces. Same lab equipment and experiments taking over the kitchen. With another sigh, he sat down in the chair, staring at the tall curly haired man laying upside down on the couch. “Well, what is of the utmost importance that it trumps the dire issues of the world?”
“I solved it. It was the Chinese diplomat”
“And this warrants a personal visit brother mine? I must say you’re slipping. Craving human interaction now are we?”
At this moment John walked in from his room, carrying his laptop and noticing their guest. “Oh hey Mycroft. I’m sorry he made you come over here. Sherlock, I don’t see why you didn’t just text him. I’m sure he has important things to do.”
The man on the couch sat up and stared at his brother. “No he’s just going through files that can wait and . And no brother dearest, I don’t crave human interaction. Simply put, I have information I thought you could put to use is all, though I don’t see why I have to share it with you. It’s rather quite boring.” He rolled onto his back while staring at the ceiling. “It seems there is a new murder plot by one of the drug cartels.”
Silence permeated the air as Sherlock closed his eyes while his flat mate stared at him in increasing annoyance. “If you aren’t going to tell your brother anything I’m just not going to help you next time you want to drag me to a crime scene. You can go alone next time and annoy Greg and hopefully get punched.”
With a groan, Sherlock flopped up and once again looked at his brother. “Fine. It seems a local drug cartel is targeting some woman who lives down the street. She doesn’t know it, but they’ve been watching her every move and have been tracking her movement. Not sure why though. Typical goldfish she is really. Plus she has no connection whatsoever with the cartel or anyone else involved with them.” Grabbing some files off the table, the tossed them at his brother and walked to one of his many experiments in the kitchen. “Everything’s there. Now, please don’t bother me until you have something interesting for me.”
“I apologize Mycroft. He still does not seem to understand manners”, stated John as he shook his head.
“He’s always been this way John. Nothing to apologize for. They can’t make up for his shortcomings. Well, if that’s everything it’s best if I head back. Very busy you know. Oh and tell Sherlock that Mother has been asking when he will visit next.” with that, Mycroft walked out of the flat, saying a quick hello to Mrs. Hudson as she swept the landing, and began to head to his car. Once seated he opened the file and read a bit about this supposed target.
Your name was ______ and you were an artist, with a focus on painting, drawing and metalwork, who sometimes did illustrations for children's books. You graduated from a college in the United States with a Bachelors in Art and a minor in History, moved to London shortly after to get more work experience, and had been living in your current flat for two years. There was nothing abnormal about you or your connections that would indicate why you were an intended target for a drug cartel. He would look into this later after his meeting with some emissaries.
Later that night he sat again at his desk, scotch in one hand and his laptop in front of him. He went through his various emails, answering the ones he deemed important and ignoring the ones he could not be bothered to answer. Anthea had gone home to her husband hours ago as had the rest of the staff, which you did not mind. It allowed for peace, quiet, and the completion of more work. Another email about a security breach in MI5, security reports involving some missile developments in an undisclosed location. This was a usual night for him and he found solace in that. Mycroft disliked change and surprises. He thrived on consistency and continuity. Sadly, his dearest brother enjoyed ruining his calm life with his plots, deductions and insane schemes. Time and time again a perfect work night had been ruined by a call informing him that Sherlock had broken into the Tate Museum, stolen important evidence from a crime scene, or offended a high ranking official. His life had been spent cleaning up after his younger brother and fixing his mistakes.
Thankfully he had a night of tranquility and could put this time to good use. Soon all his emails were sorted and his files were prepared for tomorrow and he made his way to his home. It was large for one man but very much him. Clean, modern, everything in its place. After walking in, he hung up his umbrella and coat, locked the door and headed to bed so he could start again in the morning.
Mycroft grabbed his briefcase, shook the hands of a few important leaders, and walked to the lobby of the building. They had come to an agreement between a few countries on the brink of war, successfully preventing a possible World War Three. As he walked towards the exit, intent on finding his car and going back to the office, he heard his name being called.
“Mycroft! Congratulations on another successful prevention of war!”
“Ahh Victor,” he stated while facing the man. “How’s political life treating you?”
“Ah very well very well indeed. Polls are up, laws being upheld and justice being served. Another good day in serving our Queen and Country I say” said the man. He was tall, with dark black hair, green eyes, and a voice that seemed to hypnotise you. Obviously the type of man most women went for, which was proven by the fact that every woman in the area was staring at him, trying to figure out a way to grab his attention. The two men had known each other since their college days and therefore had grown to have a mutual respect for each other. Mycroft did not consider Victor a friend for Mycroft had no need for friends, but he saw him as a man with a high level of intellect who was above the average goldfish who surrounded them on a daily basis. He did find Victor’s use of emotion to be a flaw in his character, but then again, not everyone could be as perfect and brilliant as himself. The two shared a few more minutes of polite conversation before he excused himself and quickly got into his black car to head back to the office.
On arrival to his office he was greeted with a nod from Anthea who handed him a small stack of documents for him to go through. Seated with his typical glass of scotch he was quickly reading the documents he had been handed, placing them into piles in order of urgency and importance. Just as he was about to delve deep into work, Anthea knocked letting him know he had a visitor.
Flustered and slightly red, John walked into the office looking very out of place. Mycroft knew his brother could not stand him and therefore sent the good doctor to relay whatever information he had. Annoying yes, but even though the sandy haired was lacking in the mental area, he was kind and actually had manners and followed social customs. He also happened to be a decent medical doctor and even better at keeping his flatmate on a leash. Apologizing, the man sat down in the chair Mycroft offered him and glanced around the office as if he expected to be surprised with some strange attack or experiment. Poor man had lived with Sherlock for far too long.
“Sorry to bother you Mycroft, but your brother sent me to pick up the files on the bomb case. Said you’d have them ready. If you don’t I can come back later.”
“No no, they’re right here all set and prepared for him. Have him inform me of any deductions or findings so I can get my people on a solution.” he said while not giving much thought to the nervous man in the chair.
“Oh... well... Thank you then. I’ll leave you to it, but first… I do have a question.” Raising his head to meet his gaze, Mycroft nodded, indicating that he can continue. “It’s about the girl Sherlock mentioned. ______. Is there anything we can do? I’m just concerned. We’ve run into each other once or twice while I’m on errands and she’s very kind. I’d hate to see anything bad happen to her really. I’d even be willing to watch her until something can be done.”
The girl had not really crossed his mind with the bomb case and that rumour about a terrorist cell targeting Glasgow taking precedent. He honestly would not have been interested in doing anything about it until much later, but his brother had sent him over here and he could see the concern in John’s eyes. The man might be a goldfish, but his time in the army had taught him well, and he could be used to watch over the girl. This would be a simpler solution than having to find MI men to play bodyguard. “Give me a few hours and I will be at the flat at 7pm with details, much to Sherlock’s dismay.” John said a few words of thanks knowing that this was all he would get out of Mycroft, grabbed the files and went back to the break the bad news to Sherlock.
Mycroft now moved the girl’s file in front of him, looking more thoroughly now that he needed information. You lived down the road from 221B, but not close enough to make it simple for John to watch you. Apparently you had been looking for a larger apartment, needing the space for your “work”, though how anyone can call pushing a brush and pen across paper a job he’ll never know. Quickly a plan formed in his mind and he began to make the necessary calls to put it into action.
“UGGGGHHHHHHH” was the greeting Mycroft received as he walked into the flat.Ignoring his brother’s childish behavior, he took a seat on the couch, pulling out some papers for the two men in front of him.
“Brother mine you must work on your manners you know. It’s very unbecoming of you this behavior, but then again I was always the more intelligent one.”
“My intelligence does not correlate with my behavior and you know this. You’re just taking another moment to annoy me with your prolonged presence. Which is unnecessary as you could have just relayed the information to me through John.” said Sherlock as he reached for his violin.
“Since you were astute enough to bring this issue to my attention, and then to have John bring it up again as a reminder in your stead, I felt i might as well put some plan into action so you would leave me to more important matters.” Mycroft was already losing his very thin patience with his brother and his mind was debating if he could be bothered to just leave and ignore his brother until he was necessary for a case, but knew that would have less than favorable outcomes. “Now if you’re ready to act like a grown man, the upcoming situation will be explained to you.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I don’t see why you had to come here just to explain to me what I already know Mycroft.”
Poor John being the average person he was, had already grown confused watching the verbal match between the brothers. “But Sherlock, I don’t know what his plan is and I’d like him to tell me. Especially if I am to be protecting this girl until we find information regarding this cartel and their intentions”.
With a huff Sherlock stood up to stare out the window as a fury of notes flew from the instrument. “You made a deal with Mrs. Hudson about the flat downstairs and you’re having _____ move into it. It’s larger and has more space for a studio and happens to be EXACTLY what she was looking for. You placed an ad of your invention in her mailbox so she would be sure to find it, but made sure to put the same ad in all mailboxes on the street so she would not suspect anything. Of course even if other people called in inquiring about the apartment you made sure Mrs. Hudson would only accept her. You can’t be bothered to have your men keep an eye on her so you’re trusting that job to John and I, hoping that you will not be bothered with this case again.” Quickly he turned to face the men sitting there. “Is there anything else you'd like to tell John?”
“Wait what?” said John as his eyes got big. “She’s moving in downstairs? Oh god we have to clean this place up before we can invite her in!” In a flash he was up and tidying up the flat, trying to make it look somewhat presentable. The two brothers shared a look as Mycroft stood to leave, making sure he had his umbrella.
He walked to the door, knowing he’ll see himself out, but stopped himself before closing it on the interesting pair. “Oh and Sherlock… she’s moving in tomorrow….” With a smirk he shut the door, knowing that statement would set off an argument between the two, smiling at the chaos that would ensue. It had all been easy to arrange this plan of his. With you downstairs, his brother and John could keep and eye on you while they searched for some more information regarding this cartel and their reasoning for targeting you. Until then, you’d be safe enough, though not from his brother of course. The world could never be safe from Sherlock Holmes sadly. A smile grew on his face as he drove back to his house. Maybe he could even get you to spy on Sherlock for him. This whole situation could be more beneficial than he initially thought.