They'd been following up on a 7. They needed to check a detail with his brother. Suddenly Sherlock was in a mood foul enough that a nice double murder couldn't bring him round. John processed for a fraction of a second and then his jaw dropped. Lestrade had lost weight. Mycroft had lost weight. They had been… liaising?
John/Sherlock, Mycroft/Lestrade
A/N - Reviews much appreciated. Enjoy!
"Mycroft, finally lost some weight I see-" Sherlock paused assessing the man before him, his quick, intelligent eyes slowly sweeping down his brothers frame from head to toe. Suddenly a frown settled firmly in place as he raised his eyes back up to meet those of the government "Did you have to? You're going to ruin everything for me!" he spat.
Mycroft let out a large sigh. John, puzzled, looked between the two brothers hoping that someone would fill him in on what he was obviously missing.
"Sherlock, really, one of these days you will have to accept that not everything is about you" Mycroft said calmly.
"This. Is." Sherlock practically growled.
"I beg to differ"
"I don't care what you do Mycroft, and for the most part I don't care who you do it with but I do care when it has the potential to interfere with my work!"
"I remain confident that this will have no bearing on your work"
"And when your 'liaison' ends?" Sherlock sneered, looking disgusted by the prospect of said 'liaison'.
"For God's sake be quiet!" Mycroft slammed the point of his umbrella into the ground in frustration. He took a deep, calming breath before continuing "How you can stand there and berate me with that disgusted expression… It's not as though I don't know for a fact that you engage in exactly the same kinds of 'liaison' as you so elegantly put it"
The detective hissed in his brother's direction at the loaded remark about his personal life. He continued, choosing to ignore it "The work means everything to me! You know that!"
"Everything?" The older man quirked an eyebrow and his eyes slid briefly to the silent, confused figure of the doctor at Sherlock's side.
"Enough! You know what I mean! If I can't work because of this-"
"This will not affect your work"
Seemingly silenced by his brother's words Sherlock froze for a moment studying his face as if to test the truth of them. Finally, with a scowl fixed on his face, he turned and strode rapidly away. John, as confounded as ever by the whole interaction took a moment to process, then with a brief nod in Mycroft's direction he hurried after the younger Holmes.
Once inside the taxi John tried to broach the subject with the detective. "So… errrm… mind telling me what all that was about?"
"Nothing" Sherlock was staring out of the window into the abysmal grey of the rain soaked city.
"Sherlock" He didn't turn so John tried again, this time he took hold of his hand and squeezed it gently as he spoke "Sherlock, tell me what's wrong. Tell me what Mycroft has done"
"Nothing, John it's nothing" he continued to stare out of the window.
"Oh-kay… Well can you at least tell me where were headed?"
"Murder scene. Two bodies. Lestrade text"
John waited for more information but it didn't seem to be forthcoming. Strangely Sherlock didn't seem that happy about the murder or the prospect of a case... And unless John was seriously mistaken there had been a weird emphasis about the way he'd said Lestrade… It sounded almost… disapproving?! Not that he could say that he thought Sherlock particularly approved of the DI but still, there was something weird about the way that he'd said his name.
In the absence of any actual human conversation from the moody detective the doctor continued his own analysis of the afternoon's events. Sherlock had been fine all day despite there being a lack of 'interesting' cases. They'd been following up on a 7 which Sherlock had been reluctant to leave the flat for until John had convinced him it was worthwhile. He had perked up significantly once he was out and running in the open air… then they had needed to check a detail with his brother – always bound to result in some degree of negative attitude change and some argumentative behaviour – but suddenly Sherlock was in a mood foul enough that a nice double murder couldn't bring him round. John heaved an internal sigh at the effect Sherlock was having on him when he realised that he had just referred to the undoubtedly horrific crime as a 'nice double murder'. God, he needed help.
Ok, that aside, what on earth had caused such a dramatic shift in the detective? Mycroft had done something, something bad by the sounds of it… something which might affect Sherlock's work, something which might affect cases… Maybe something to do with the surveillance he had them under? Had he taken it a step to far? Maybe asked the agents to follow Sherlock too closely or put cameras in the flat again? Oh god, John really hoped it wasn't the latter. He and Sherlock had been… and then in the… and finally on the… John shook his head slightly to clear the indecently steamy memories that had suddenly crowded his mind. No, that would serve no purpose at all. And Sherlock would have found and removed the cameras before they engaged in any… liaisons.
Wait, liaison… the Holmes' had been discussing liaisons… and John had been sure at one point he was somehow being brought into the conversation… but mostly it seemed that Sherlock had been angry with Mycroft for engaging in liaisons with… somebody. And he'd mentioned him losing weight… which could be a result of more, ahem, vigorous exercise. John shifted uncomfortably at the thought. So Mycroft was getting his end away? Was it that simple? But why would that upset Sherlock?!
~XOX~
John didn't have time to ponder on the problem any further as they arrived at their destination. Sherlock released Johns hand as the taxi slowed, pulling into the pavement, and jumped out as soon as it came to a halt leaving the doctor to foot the bill. John sighed at the way of things and followed behind as soon as the fare was paid.
Sherlock was standing in the road about 10 meters from the covered bodies looking up at the electricity pylons. As John came to a halt at his side Lestrade caught sight of them and walked over. "Sherlock, John" he nodded at them both.
Sherlock didn't immediately pay him any attention, continuing to stare upwards instead. John took it upon himself to be the polite one and nodding at the mass of police vehicles said "Hi Greg, looks like this is keeping you busy – is it a bad one then?"
"Sherlock didn't tell you?" the DI glanced over to the still silent and scowling detective.
"Errm no… I think-" John was suddenly abruptly cut off by the sky gazing consultant.
"No, I haven't told John what's going on. I presume you are capable of doing so whilst I essentially do your job by solving the crime?"
"Sherlock!" John hissed.
"Not good?" The taller man asked but John could see from his eyes that he not only knew his behaviour was particularly rude but also did not care in the slightest. In fact there was a devious glint in his eye which warned John that his rude outburst might not be over.
"No, not good" he muttered in response wondering what game Sherlock was currently playing.
"I apologise Lestrade" The DI looked thoroughly taken aback by the apology having grown used to Sherlock's manners or lack thereof.
Sherlock, John noticed was distracted from the crime scene and was analysing Lestrade in the same way he had Mycroft. Suddenly his eyes snapped back up to the DI's and with a disgusted curl of his lip he spoke "Lost some weight I see" and then he spun and walked away.
John processed for a fraction of a second and then his jaw dropped. Lestrade had lost weight… Mycroft had lost weight… They had been… liaising?! Yes, and that was why the idea of his older brother getting some action had been so upsetting, that was why he thought it might affect his work…
"What on earth was all that about?!" The DI was turning to face John and he quickly shut his mouth. What on earth did he say? Lestrade was looking at him and waiting for an answer. Well he might as well tell him the truth… after all if he didn't tell the DI now then Sherlock would undoubtedly find an embarrassing way to work it in later.
"Well… He's in a bad mood because we've just been to see Mycroft" the doctor paused seeking a reaction to the name but saw nothing notable. He was suddenly unsure of his deduction.
"And the apology? And the complement? What was all that about? That's weird even for him"
The doctor paused a moment before deciding to go for broke "well unless I'm very much mistaken that was his way of telling me that you and his brother have been sleeping together"
The DI's mouth fell open with an audible pop. "Jesus Christ! When… what… how… urrgh" he ran his hands palm down over his tired face.
John smiled in sympathy "just now – he deduced it from his brother somehow and then he kicked off into a major strop. Seems to think that it will have some sort of bearing on his ability to work the cases if – if it ends between you"
Lestrade just shook his head and muttered something under his breath about knowing he couldn't keep it quiet forever.
John couldn't help but feel a little concerned though and posed the question that Sherlock had to his brother "it won't affect his cases though will it?"
Lestrade looked a little stunned momentarily before breaking into quiet laughter and shaking his head. He began to lead the doctor over towards the two bodies as he spoke quietly "no, no I'm sure neither of us intend for our-"
"Liaison" John supplied helpfully as he knelt to examine the first body.
Lestrade grinned "Yes, neither of us intend for our liaison to interfere with Sherlock's work. In fact I rather hope that our liaison won't be coming to an end for quite some time making this conversation and a certain consulting detectives' hissy fit a moot point!"
John smiled up at the DI "good… thank god"
"I imagine your relief has a little to do with the fact that a certain awkward git would get very bored very quickly without any cases… and a little more to do with your own mental resilience on being stuck in the flat with a bored Sherlock than it is to do with his own mental suffering whilst bored?!"
"Well you're not wrong" the doctor broke into another smile "I don't think I could handle him 24/7 with no end, no cases, in sight"
Lestrade simply nodded his assent, demonstrating he wouldn't know how to handle it either. Then a wicked grin crept across his features and he leant in towards the doctor conspiratorially "you know, you could always share Mycroft – all the fun of a Holmes with less than half the hassle!" He winked and continued "you get tall, dark and pompous but you bypass most of the attitude, social inappropriateness and mood swings… tell me that doesn't sound good to you?!"
John couldn't help nodding his agreement as he laughed along with the DI, thoroughly enjoying the joke until he glanced behind the inspector and saw Sherlock frozen to the spot, clearly privy to their conversation. His face a mixture of pain, fear and panic. And then in the moment it took for John to think about reacting he was gone.
"Sherlock!" John stood quickly and the DI spun questioningly.
"Awww crap… He bloody heard us"
"Ah… sorry"
"No, it's my fault… I thought he was busy elsewhere… I thought…" John shook his head and brought his hands up to bury his face. Brilliant, bloody brilliant.
"He can't seriously believe that you would be interested in Mycroft though?" Lestrade asked with a healthy dose of incredulity.
"He's insecure" was the slightly muffled reply. Sherlock may be a genius. He may be sexy and perfect and everything John ever wanted. But he could never quite seem to grasp the fact that John wanted him and only him, he could never quite let go of the fear that John was going to up in the middle of the night and leave him. Alone and heartbroken. No matter what the blogger said or did, nothing ever fully convinced him.
And now, because of some thoughtless banter the insanely intelligent idiot thought that he, John, was interested in replacing him. With Mycroft of all people. It was so fucked up it was almost funny – or it would be if he hadn't seen the genuine hurt on Sherlock's pale face.
The two crime solvers stood in an uncomfortable silence for a full minute before John recovered his senses and pulled his metaphorical head out of the sand. "I have to go, I have to find him" he stated simply.
Lestrade bobs his head, a sympathetic look plastered over his features. "Yeah. Listen, could you…" he indicated towards the second body with a quick tilt of his head "you know have a look and give me your thoughts before you do? Somehow I don't see Sherlock coming back and helping me on this one anytime soon."
"Uh, yeah, sure" John dropped his hands to his sides and moved over to the second body.
~XOX~
Ten minutes later he has left Lestrade with his, undoubtedly inferior, observations and is walking back the way he came; following the path Sherlock forged when he disappeared. He has just reached the main road, wondering where on earth to start looking for the wayward detective when his phone begins to trill.
He looks at the caller display for a long moment before he answers, unsure whether or not he wants to take this particular call, and equally unsure as to whether laying the blame for his current predicament squarely at the door of the caller is unfair.
"Mycroft" he finally answers.
"Dr Watson" Mycroft's cold, formal greeting sounds a little off, a little muffled, but John can't quite place why "would you care to tell me what on earth you have done to my brother?"
Shit. He went to Mycroft. At least he could relax knowing the great buffoon was somewhere safe. "He's there with you?"
"Not currently" was the clipped reply. It was followed by the usual threat as a sleek black car pulled up alongside the medic "get into the car John."
John knew he wasn't imagining the extra steel in the older Holmes' voice when he slid into the car and, rather surprisingly, found himself face to face with the man in question. The metal bite to his words and the pissed expression did absolutely nothing, however, to prevent the doctor from breaking down into a full-on fit of laughter at the sight of the disgruntled man.
Sat in all his blood stained finery; the left hand side of his face swollen and already beginning to bruise, his nose that distinctly crooked shape that comes with a fresh resetting and with a tampon shoved up each nostril.
"Sherlock?" John managed to choke out as he fought to control his laughter.
"Indeed. Could you perhaps fill me in on why my darling little brother felt the need to seek me out for a second time today in order to threaten and assault me? He was remarkably lax about providing the details as to what exactly I had done to deserve another set of broken nasal bones." The town car began to move, winding its way through the London traffic.
John couldn't quite help himself looking at the confused and ruffled politician "what makes you think it has anything to do with me at all? He really wasn't all that happy with you earlier." He also couldn't quite stop the knowing smirk that had wound its way across his features.
"Hmm, I see that Sherlock saw fit to share that particular deduction then?" John simply grinned and winked. Mycroft, for his part, merely rolled his eyes. "The fact that he stormed in on my luncheon, coat swirling out behind him like an overgrown bat, yelling and ranting about what he plans to do to me if I so much as shake your hand in future did tip me off that you were somehow involved."
"Your luncheon?"
"Yes, the Korean ambassador was most disconcerted, especially once Sherlock proceeded to enact the milder of his plans on my face. I think the poor man was worried that he would continue to, shall we say escalate, towards some of his more creative threats."
"I see" It really wasn't all that funny but the idea of Sherlock as an 'overgrown bat' was still playing havoc with his facial muscles and the doctor was grinning at the offended Holmes sitting before him. And wouldn't he just love to have heard Sherlock's little monologue – he really could be exceptionally creative when he wanted to be.
"Do you? Then perhaps, if you'd be so kind, you could explain what was said or done to cause my brother to question what I 'did with' you when I kidnapped you? And which made him feel the need to reinforce his request that I not kidnap you again with his fists?"
John grinned wider for an imperceptible moment "Should you really be taking the risk of picking me up in your car then? Might be perceived as a kidnap attempt!"
"John!"
"Ok, ok" The doctor heaved a reluctant sigh before launching into an uncomfortable explanation. "Lestrade and I were discussing Sherlock's recent… revelations about the two of you and he made a passing comment about us… ummm… sharing."
"Sharing?" the spy fixed the blonde man with a questioning gaze that had him shifting in his seat.
"Uh, yeah… sharing… you… all the fun of a Holmes, less than half the hassle… Sherlock heard…"
"Obviously" Mycroft sighed "Fine mess you've made Doctor Watson, you know how insecure my sibling is. He is no doubt going out of his mind right now trying to work out how to keep you. You need to talk to him immediately."
"Of course, where did you think I was going before you picked me up?" John asked slightly outraged that the injured man thought he would have had anything else in mind "I would have explained right away if he hadn't panicked and run off."
The car slowed and pulled to a stop. "I suggest you take your leave here Doctor Watson and see that you have a discussion with my brother directly."
"Yeah, just one problem though – I don't know where the plonker is"
"Unless I am very much mistaken you will find him at 221b awaiting your return. No doubt his hands will still be bloodied in some sort of inane display of male sexual prowess – look what I can and will do to keep you – utterly ridiculous" Mycroft muttered "and fortunately for you dear Doctor, we have just arrived at Baker Street"
John looked out of the heavily tinted glass to see that they were in fact on the corner of Baker Street albeit far enough around the corner that Sherlock, looking from the window of their flat, would not be able to observe John exiting the government vehicle. He grinned at the rather obvious covert behaviour Mycroft was displaying.
"Yes, well it wouldn't do to anger my brother any further today, especially as he was so vehemently opposed to us meeting like this" the government official sneered.
John stepped out of the car without another word, still grinning, and walked down Baker Street with a rather joyful spring in his step. Oh, Mycroft Holmes wasn't exactly scared of his brother… but he did have a rather healthy respect for his insanities and what his brother might do under the guise of them.
Sherlock was standing by the window, still in his coat and scarf when John peaked the top of the stairs. In his batsuit John thought as his smile widened. As predicted, his fists and the right cuff of his coat were still coated in Mycroft's dried blood – but also his own, John noticed with a small surge of sympathy pain, as he took in the detectives split knuckles.
"John-" the man began - no doubt about to reel off some fantastic deductions which revealed why John wouldn't be able to bear to live with Mycroft, to give carefully crafted reasons why he had to stay with Sherlock, to explain in precise detail what he was willing to do to keep John and perhaps, even to detail what he had threatened to do to his brother if he attempted to steal his blogger.
"-No. Sherlock, stop." John cut him off and strode forwards to take hold of his injured hands "How on earth could you actually, even for a moment, think that I would be interested in Mycroft?! And here I was convinced you were a genius!"
Sherlock managed a look that mixed confusion with a wary relief "You mean you're not?"
"No, I'm definitely not"
"But you were laughing. You thought it sounded like a good idea" he said in a small, hurt voice.
"I was joking, Lestrade was joking. I never meant to hurt your feelings Sherlock" John squeezed his hands gently.
"You're definitely sure"
"Definitely"
He shook his head as if to dislodge the terrible thoughts of John and Mycroft together "How did I get that wrong?"
"It's because you're an idiot" John said with a fond smile.