Chapter Text
Part 1: Guardian Angel
It starts with a traffic warden.
Greg’s always been lucky. He has a job he enjoys more days than not, a roof over his head and food in his belly. His daughter is alive and healthy, even if she won’t talk to him. Greg’s seen enough pain and misery in his line of work to know that he’s bloody lucky. This is different.
After Sherlock comes back, Greg’s life is on an up. Life’s just like that - sometimes you can’t catch a break for trying, and sometimes everything just falls into place effortlessly. Greg doesn’t think anything of it until the bloody traffic warden.
They've just closed down a two month drug case, his exhausted team filtering out of the office, tired but satisfied at a job well done. Greg’s still got a mountain of paperwork to deal with, but for once he’s going home on time, he's going to have a hot meal and sleep in his own bed for a full night. He’s just waiting to cross to his car when he sees the traffic warden, swearing under his breath as he remembers the permit that expired two days ago that Greg had been too busy to replace.
The pedestrian crossing is still red and the road is busy. There’s no time to leg it over and try to sweet talk his way out of it, so Greg watches with a muttered “Bloody hell” as the warden enters his car registration into his machine. A pause, and then the warden carries on with his round, leaving Greg’s car un-ticketed. Greg stands on the pavement, bemused, and watches him go.
It’s a mundane detail. There are a dozen possible explanations – computer error being the most obvious. Something about it doesn’t sit right with him though.
After that he starts noticing all the other lucky coincidences going on around him. His bank card gets nicked – it’s frozen after one purchase and the bank refunds him double to make up for the inconvenience. Things are a bit tight one month, until an unexpected tax rebate arrives in the post. A tax rebate Greg knows he isn't due. He spends half an hour on the phone to the tax people, only to be told there's no error. There’s a promotion going at work, and Greg's boss stops by out of the blue to suggest insistently that he apply.
The sense of unease grows. Greg keeps quiet about it. What’s he going to tell anyone – that his life is going too well? Right.
It comes to a head during his monthly phone call with his ex-wife.
“Oh. Yep. Uh-huh,” Greg says automatically as Mara continues her rant about her current partner’s failings. Hearing the latest in Mara’s relationship sagas is something he could well do without, but it’s the only way he can get information about his daughter these days. He’s sorting through his laundry when his brain picks up his daughter’s name again. “What was that about Lucy?” he asks, interrupting.
Mara pauses, and then says dryly, “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?”
“Ah – “ Greg starts apologetically and Mara makes a sound of amused long-suffering.
“I was talking about Lucy’s University grant.”
“I thought she got turned down for that?”
“She did. It’s the weirdest thing, she got a letter saying they’ve reconsidered and she’ll be receiving the funding after all.”
Greg stares blindly at the pile of laundry in front of him, his fingers tight on the phone.
“That’s great,” he makes himself say into the expectant silence.
“Well don’t sound too excited about it, it’s only your daughter’s future,” Mara says peevishly.
Greg gets himself together. “No, yeah. I’m really pleased. That’s great news. Tell her I’m proud of her, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks, Mara. Listen I’ve got to go. Give Lucy my love,” he says, vaguely hearing Mara’s confused goodbye as he hangs up and numbly drops the phone onto the side.
There’s only one person in Greg’s life with enough power to influence things at this level – Mycroft. What Greg can’t get his head around is why? He hasn’t seen Mycroft since the night after Sherlock had returned, the night Greg had told him to go to hell. Mycroft had apparently taken Greg at his word, vanishing out of Greg’s life completely. Greg hasn’t seen him since.
He hasn’t seen him, but apparently Mycroft has been paying very close attention to Greg’s life anyway, playing the part of invisible puppet master, pulling Greg’s strings behind the scenes. And now Mycroft is interfering in his little girl’s life. Why though? Is this some sick game? Another way to manipulate Greg?
Gritting his teeth, he yanks his coat off its hook and heads out to find a cab.
TBC