Chapter Text
Mycroft stared at his phone. The United States government had not had to give him any warning, and he was grateful that they had. But this phone call was going to be hard to make, and he fully expected to be blamed for the entire debacle, even though none of it was his fault. His cousin might not be his favorite person in the world for associating with Irene Adler, much less getting her pregnant and thus ensuring she was always going to be connected to the Holmes family, but he would not have wished this on any member of his family, estranged or not.
He had not called his brother about this yet, mostly because his cousin deserved to know first. He dialed the unfamiliar number and waited. Holmes picked up on the second ring. “Mycroft,” he said quietly. Mycroft could tell he had been pulled away from something eh would much rather be doing because his tone was slightly irritated. “What do you want?”
“Irene is going to be arrested,” Mycroft said slowly. “Her fake name no longer works, and the government has decided that because she entered under a false identity and because she knows state secrets that she shouldn’t that she will be extradited back to the United Kingdom for being a threat to national security.” There was a long pause, long enough that he thought his cousin might have hung up on him. “Sherlock?”
“When?” he asked quietly. There was tension in his voice, but Mycroft knew well from past experience that Holmes might blow up at any point.
“Tomorrow morning, at eight AM your time. They realize she is pregnant, and they will make sure she is healthy. But it is an expedited extradition. By the end of the week she will no longer be in the United States, and she will be barred from returning.” Mycroft braced himself for an explosion. While his brother was nearly always calm and collected his cousin was more volatile and emotional.
“This all has to do with what she did for Moriarty, the secrets she collected for him.”
“Yes.” Mycroft let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. His cousin was taking this sensibly, which only showed how the years had changed him. This was a good sign.
“Is there anything you can do?” Holmes asked. It was almost close to pleading, but not quite. There had been a note of hopefulness in his voice, but Mycroft knew he was about to dash any hopes he might have had.
“I have already tried. I offered them her phone. But they want her gone rather than deal with any fall out if someone else decides to pry the secrets out of her. They think she will be less of a threat to the Queen, and sadly they are right. I am sorry.”
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, his voice slightly dejected. Mycroft couldn’t help but feel for him; any hopes and dreams he had had on a life in New York had been irrevocably dashed, and he was sorry he had to be the bearer of bad news.
“You are more than welcome to return to London with her,” Mycroft said. “I know it is not the same, but this way your children will not have to grow up fatherless.”
“Who will be coming to get her?”
“When I was informed I asked for someone from the NYPD to come as well as the agents who will be taking her in. I assume it shall be Captain Gregson, as he is your friend.”
“Thank you for that, I suppose,” Holmes said quietly. “Does your brother know?”
“No, I have not told him yet. I was going to call him next. I felt you deserved to know first, however.”
“Thank you for your consideration, Mycroft.” Holmes paused for a moment. “I need to tell her.”
“I am sorry to put you in that position,” Mycroft said.
“At least you tried.”
“You are a member of the Holmes family. As strained as our relationship is, you are still family.” He paused. “If you would like, I will make provisions for her here in London, until you can join her. I will make sure she is taken care of.”
“I would. Thank you.”
“Good-bye, Sherlock.”
“Good-bye, Mycroft.”
With that, Holmes hung up, and Mycroft stared at his phone. Then he pulled up a more familiar number. When his brother picked up, he did not wait for a greeting. “Sherlock, I have news…”
--
Holmes went downstairs. This was a shock. It was the biggest shock he could have asked for. It was an unnecessary complication. His life had been going well, far better than he had ever dreamed. And now her past had come back to haunt her. He could hear her laugh at something Joan had said, and his gut clenched. After tomorrow there would not be the three of them together. This would never happen again.
He got down to the living room and stood in the doorway. Joan noticed him first, and her smile dropped to a frown. “Sherlock? What’s wrong?”
“I just received a call from Mycroft,” he said, coming into the room more. “Tomorrow morning someone will be coming to arrest Irene. She was be deported back to England by the end of the week.”
Joan gasped. “How? Why?”
“My past,” Irene said, a sad smile on her face. “We knew this day might come, Sherlock.”
“They know you came here under false identification. You’re considered a threat to national security.” Sherlock went and sat next to her. She reached over for his hand and he grasped it tightly. “I am so sorry.”
“It’s all right,” she said. She leaned over so her head was on his shoulder. “This was always a possibility. We knew that.”
“You’re eight months pregnant,” Joan said. “Surely they can wait for you to have the twins, right?”
“If they’re born here they’ll be American citizens,” Irene said, shaking her head. “The government wouldn’t want that.”
“What are you going to do?” Joan asked.
“I will be returning to London as soon as I can get my affairs in order,” Sherlock said. “Mycroft has assured me Irene will be taken care of until I can join her.”
“What about your life here?” Irene asked.
“I am sure Detective Inspector Lestrade will not mind two consultants, though there are others who do not allow my cousin to help so perhaps they will allow me,” Holmes said. “I will not abandon you, Irene. I will not leave my children to grow up without a father present.”
“I know,” she said. “I am so sorry I ever met Moriarty.”
“As am I,” Holmes said quietly. Then he looked at Joan. “I believe I have trained you as well as I can, Joan. I think you will be an asset to the NYPD, and I hope you continue with the work we have done here.”
Joan looked down. “Actually, I may not be staying here in New York.”
“Oh?” Holmes said, surprised. “Why?”
“Greg and I have gotten more…serious,” she said. “And Molly said maybe if I don’t go back to being a surgeon I can still do stuff to help. There’s an opening for another pathologist at St. Bart’s. I have the skill, even if I don’t have all the training, but my background as a consultant would help.” She looked at the two of them. “I was just waiting for a good time to tell you guys that I was seriously considering moving to London.”
“Well, it appears as though things might not change as much after all,” Holmes said, the knot in his stomach unclenching slightly. It was still there, though it did not feel as big. “I suppose we have the night to make plans, then.”
“I suppose so,” Irene said with a nod.
“If you two will excuse me, I have calls to make,” Joan said, standing up. “And I’m sure the two of you want to be alone.” She came over to Irene and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. Irene looked up at her and smiled, and then Joan removed her hand and left the room.
“I’m not scared,” Irene said quietly, as if sensing Holmes’s unasked question. “I always knew this could happen.”
“Is it really any safer in London?” Holmes asked.
“Probably. Your cousin has all my secrets since he still has my phone, and I will not breathe a word of them. I want a quiet life with you and the children now. That’s all I want.” She turned to look at him, and then turned her body slightly so she was facing him. “How long do you think it will take you to get to London?”
“No more than a few weeks, I suppose,” he said. “It will take time to pack and make arrangements for a more permanent residence, though I suppose I can ask my father for help if I must. He has properties in London.”
“He still hasn’t met me,” she said with a wry smile. “Why do you think he will help us?”
“Because despite the fact that he has no interest in the people I have chosen to include in my extended family, my biological family will force him to. My aunt is a very formidable woman, and she is just as excited for these children as I am. And Mycroft will probably make him some sort of deal if he helps. He has the power and sway to do that.”
“What about Sherlock?” Irene asked.
“I suppose he will help out as he can. He is happy for us, but I do not see children being in his immediate future, even if they are his first cousins and not his own offspring,” Holmes said with a slight smile. “He does not get along with children very well.”
“It’s good he paid a visit here and we made our amends,” she said. “I suppose I shall have to do the same with Mycroft.”
“Yes,” Holmes said with a slight nod. “He did not have to warn us.”
“No, he did not.” She sighed, and then awkwardly got up. “I’m going to pack some clothing, and a few other belongings. Then I would like to lie down for a while. It would be nice if you joined me.”
“Of course,” Holmes said with a nod, getting up as well. She reached over for his hand and he grasped it tightly, and then she led the way up the stairs. He vowed at that moment not to leave her alone under any circumstances. He would not lose her again, not when they had so much of a future together. No matter what, he was going to go back to London. He was just thankful that he would not be going alone.
--
Joan sighed as she hung up her phone. She had called her mother and father first. She had known they were going to be the hardest to break the news to, and she had been right. Her parents had not liked the idea of her packing up and leaving New York City, even if she had more reasons than just Holmes. She had a relationship that she wanted to explore further without an ocean between them and she had a job offer. She had hoped her parents might be supportive, but they weren’t.
The second call would most likely go better. It was very early in the morning in London, and she hoped he was awake. He had said something about working a graveyard shift that evening, so he might be up. She waited a moment for him to pick up. “Joan,” Lestrade said warmly.
“Hey, Greg,” she said, relaxing. Despite the distance and the time difference they talked nearly every day. She actually spoke to him more than she had her last boyfriend, but that was purposeful. “I have some news. Do you have time to talk?”
“I do. There’s nothing I can do on our current case until the pathologist’s report comes through, and I’m assuming it won’t get done until Molly comes in in a few hours. What’s happening?”
“You know how my Sherlock is dating Irene Adler?”
“Yes,” he replied. “And she’s pregnant with twins, right?”
“Yeah. She’s being deported back to England by the end of the week.”
“Oh,” he said. “How is Sherlock taking it?”
“He’s making plans to move back to London. And he’s not the only one, though I guess it wouldn’t be moving back since I’ve never lived there.” She paused. “Are you okay with that?”
“You want to move here? To London?” he asked.
“Yeah. I mean, Molly said there was an opening at the hospital where she works for a pathologist. And I can always occasionally consult, though with three consultants that might be a bit much.”
“You don’t know how happy that makes me,” he said.
Joan smiled, the first real smile she’d worn since Holmes dropped the bombshell. “That was just what I needed to hear after talking to my parents.”
“They still don’t approve?” he asked.
“They want me to date a nice New Yorker who is a doctor or a lawyer, not a cop in London. I mean, it took them a while to accept this new career of mine, and now I’ve just told then I’m moving across the Atlantic Ocean to be a coroner and be closer to my boyfriend. They weren’t pleased.”
“I’m sorry.” There was a pause. “Have you given any thought as to where you’re going to live?”
“No. I mean, this is all happening really fast. I’ll probably be there in three weeks, a month tops. You know Sherlock isn’t going to want to leave Irene alone for long, not while she’s this close to having the babies.”
“Yes, I know. I would be the same way.”
“I don’t think we’ll start making any plans until after tomorrow, though.”
“Might I offer a suggestion?”
“Sure, okay,” Joan said, nodding even though he couldn’t see her.
“You could stay with me for a while.” Lestrade paused. “At least until you find a place of your own.” He added that last bit in a more hurried voice.
Joan froze slightly for a moment, then she spoke. “Are you sure you want me staying with you?” she asked quietly. “I mean, we’ve only been together, what, five months? And we’ve only been in the same city for maybe a month and a half of it?”
“I do have a two bedroom flat, if that’s what’s worrying you,” he said. “You can have space.”
“That’s not what’s worrying me,” she said, flopping back onto her bed. “I mean, are we that serious?”
“No, probably not, but she’s about to have those twins, right?”
“Yeah,” Joan said slowly.
“I know you were going to stay with them afterwards, but maybe it would be better for them if they had space. Stay with me until you find a place of your own, and then you can stop living with me and have all the space you want. I’ll even help you look.”
Joan was quiet for a moment. He had some very valid points. Irene was going to have these twins within the next month, and while she knew she’d agreed to stay with her and Holmes after they had the twins that was when they would be here, at the brownstone. If there was a smaller place in London, would it work as well? Would they still want her to live with them? And honestly, it would be nice to have a place of her own. “All right, Greg. Whenever Sherlock and I sit down and talk about this, I’ll tell him I’m moving in with you. Temporarily, of course.”
“Of course, Joan,” he said, and she could picture him nodding emphatically as he spoke. “Once I get some sleep I’ll start clearing out the other room. Are you going to bring your own furniture?”
“It would probably be very expensive to ship, but I’ll see what Sherlock’s planning first. I’ll call you as soon as we have things worked out a bit better.” She relaxed slightly. “I will admit, it will be nice to see you more often.”
“I’m looking forward to that part as well,” Lestrade replied. “The chance to get to see you without getting on a plane and crossing an ocean is very appealing. Plus you do have family here.”
“I haven’t even told John yet. Do you think it’s too early in the morning for that?”
“It’s only midnight here. Besides, knowing my Sherlock John is probably still awake.”
“Oh? Did something happen?” Joan asked.
“Sherlock and Molly had their first fight two days ago. Sherlock spent last night staying up all night playing violin concertos instead of apologizing to Molly.”
Joan smiled. “Poor John. I wonder when he’ll snap.”
“If Sherlock does it all night again tonight, I’ll probably be called to their home on account of Sherlock’s dead body in the morning,” Lestrade said with a chuckle. “John looked positively ghastly this morning when I saw him.”
“I’ll call him next,” Joan said.
“Please try and talk him out of a possible homicide. It would be a shame to arrest one of my friends. I’ll talk to you later, Joan.”
“All right. Take care, Greg.”
“You too.” She hung up then and looked at her phone before pulling up her cousin’s number. It rang twice and then she heard someone pick up and heard muffled groaning on the other end. “John?”
“Joan? It’s bloody twelve in the morning, and the violin just stopped a half hour ago,” he said groggily. “Is something wrong?”
“Sort of. Irene’s being arrested tomorrow and deported back to England by the end of the week.”
“Oh, crap,” he said quietly. “How is your Sherlock handling this?”
“He’s making plans to go back to London,” she said. “And he won’t be going alone.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll be moving there as well,” she said.
“Really?” John said, his voice warming slightly. “That’s great. I mean, the situation isn’t great, but the fact you’re moving here is. Have you told Greg yet?”
“Just got off the phone with him,” she said with a smile. “I’m going to stay with him a bit until I find my own place.”
John whistled slightly. “Didn’t realize you two were that serious.”
“Well, we are, kind of. I’ll be staying in his second bedroom. Just until I get a place of my own.” She paused. “You don’t think I’m making a mistake, do you?”
“About Greg or about moving here?”
“Both?” she asked.
“No and no. I think he’s a good guy, especially for you, and I think you moving here can only be a good thing.”
“At least one person thinks so,” she said with a sigh.
“Your parents are against the idea, aren’t they?”
“I think I might have initiated World War Three in my family, yeah,” she said. “I’ll find out when I tell my brother.”
“I’m so sorry,” he replied. “But at least my family will be happy you’re here.”
“There is that,” she said with a smile. “Hey, Greg told me Sherlock and Molly had a fight.”
“They did. He did something stupid, she got upset, he didn’t see what the fuss was about. I swear, he’s been playing the violin non-stop for twenty-four hours or so. He only just stopped.”
“I may call her next, let her vent. And also let her know I’m interested in the open position at her job, find out what I have to do to get it.”
“I’m sure she would appreciate that. She’s been overwhelmed since the other pathologist quit, and Sherlock’s stupidity was just kind of the last straw.”
“I’ll let you go so you can get some sleep, then. No killing Sherlock before morning.”
“If he starts up that violin again I won’t make any guarantees,” John replied.
“Try, for me. I don’t want to have to visit you in jail every week.”
“For you I will. Night, Joan.”
“Night, John.”
Joan hung up and pulled up another contact, then hit send. It went straight to Molly’s voicemail, but it was a different message. Hi, this is Molly Hooper. If you are anyone other than Sherlock Holmes, please leave me a detailed message with your name and telephone number and I will get back to you shortly. If you are Sherlock Holmes, you better be leaving an apology. If you aren’t going to do that, hang up now. Talk to you later!
Joan chuckled, a laugh she still had after the beep. “Hey, Molly, this is Joan. Something has happened and I’ll be moving to London after all, probably in the next three weeks or so. I’m still interested in that position at St. Bart’s, so call me when you can and let me know how I can apply for it. Good luck with Sherlock; I think you’re going to need it. Talk to you later. Bye.”
She hung up and looked at her phone. She should call her brother next, but her parents had probably done that right after they hung up with her. And she needed to do some thinking anyway. She set her phone down and shut her eyes. She’d get up early tomorrow, be there for Irene and Holmes, and then start making plans. She just hoped Sherlock would be able to help her.