Author's Note: Hello Sherlock fans! Here's a little oneshot I threw together. Yay! It's not much, but I figured Mycroft would probably kidnap Harry too, sincehe's got connection to John and she's also the older sibling. Anyway, enjoy! And if you liked this silly little thing, let me know with a review! I'll bake you cookies in the shapes of body parts!

Disclaimer: The characters depicted in this story do not belong to me. I think the BBC has rights to these ones? Or something? And this is just my interpretation of Harriet Watson. We have not, as of this writing, met her on screen, and she may be represented differently in canon or by other authors.

When Harry Met Mycroft

A woman tumbled out of the door, leaving behind the writhing bodies and loud, bass-heavy music of the club. She had long, dark hair and pretty features. Her shirt was just a little bit too low cut, her skirt just a little bit too short, and her makeup just a little bit too heavy. Kitty was what she was calling herself tonight. As long as she played the part, nobody would question her presence there. And why should they? She was exactly where she needed to be.

Behind her stumbled another woman, tall and blonde with dark blue eyes. She was a regular here – first name basis with most of the staff. She had been coming here less and less as of late, but tonight was something different. Most would call it a moment of weakness after a serious breakup, but she would insist otherwise.

The two women piled into a car together. It was sleek and black, high-end and chauffeured. "We'll head on back to my place, yeah?" purred Kitty.

Harry just grinned.

The car drove through the city, neither of them taking note of where they were going. Kitty began to text and Harry began to wonder if this woman was really who she said she was. The car pulled up to a warehouse, empty and abandoned, and Harry was suddenly a lot more sober than she had been moments before.

"Lovely place you've got here," noted Harry. "I hear dank and decrepit is very in this year."

"Just get out of the car," said 'Kitty.' Her voice had lowered about half an octave from the screechy tone she had used back in the club. "There's someone who would like a word with you."

Harry did as she was told, stepping out of the car and onto the concrete. Her gait was even and her breathing was steady. There was alcohol on her breath, but she was very clearly not drunk. Keeping her eyes forward, she held the gaze of the tall, umbrella-wielding man standing before her.

"Ms. Watson," he said. "Have a seat." When she didn't, he said "You're rather steady on your feet."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Please. I'm an alcoholic. Drinking isn't just a hobby, it's a lifestyle. It's going to take a bit more than a couple of cocktails to bring me down."

"You don't look very afraid." He leaned forward onto his umbrella. "Neither was your brother."

If he was expecting fear from her at that phrase he wouldn't be getting it. Instead a look of comprehension spread across Harry's face. "Ah. You must be Mr. Holmes the elder then. Oh, don't look so surprised. We don't speak very often, my brother and I, but you would be surprised how much I know of his life. He's very good at hiding his actions and feelings. I'm just better at finding them."

Mycroft's mouth became a thin line. "I see. I don't suppose you know why I've called you here?"

"No," admitted Harry, "but I can certainly guess. I guessed your identity, after all. My brother mentioned his new flatmate's got a brother, and a rather strange one at that. He didn't give me any details, but I was able to make a few assumptions. I was a bit off, though. The warehouse is a surprise, but rather a nice touch. As for why you've brought me here... Well you're clearly an older sibling, something I can relate to. Your little brother's made a new friend and you're finding out anything about him that you can. That lead you to me."

Mycroft nodded. "Indeed. I was hoping for your help, in fact."

"Keeping an eye on your brother? John told me that much at least. Nothing I couldn't have figured out myself. Like I said, I can relate. In fact..." Harry bit her lip. "I was hoping we could strike up something of a deal."

"Oh?" enquired Mycroft. "Well go ahead, dazzle me with your proposition."

"My brother's got a very rigid set of morals," Harry explained. "You can't just blatantly ask him to spy on your brother for you. He won't take your money. No, you've got to be more subtle than that, manipulate him into telling you what you want to hear. You get what you want and nobody gets hurt in the process. You can keep tabs on your brother, and my brother feeds you information because he wants to. He's much more honest that way. It just takes a bit to make him open up."

"So then where do you fit into this equation?" asked Mycroft. His tone remained even but his patience was waning. He had been hoping to get this done quickly.

"I'm getting to that," she said, waving him off. "See, my brother was always the brilliant one growing up. Your brother's the investigator, and you do... Whatever it is that you do. But me? I know people. I can read their intentions and manipulate their actions. I've been practising on my brother for years! I know John, and I'm definitely an asset if you're hoping to use him to keep an eye on your brother. See, John's never had that many friends, and I'm guessing Sherlock hasn't either. That they've found each other means that John will want to do all he can to hang onto this one. The trick is in getting him to do it the right way – that is, opening up to you. I can make sure he does."

Mycroft considered this. There were people on his payroll that he could easily get to do the same thing, but perhaps the sister would indeed be an asset. She would likely raise minimal suspicion from John, and she certainly did know him best. "Sounds reasonable, but tell me, what do you want in return?"

Harry sighed. "Nothing too much, and certainly nothing too difficult to achieve. As I said... John's never had much luck in the friendship department. I just want my brother to be happy. All I ask is that you make sure they stay friends. This is the first time in a long time that he's actually found someone who's on his level intellectually and can provide the... shall we say excitement my brother needs to keep himself from going mad. I'd hate to see him ruin it somehow."

For a moment they said nothing. Harry's arms were folded across her chest and Mycroft was leaning casually on his umbrella. It appeared they had reached an understanding. All they needed now was to finalize it.

"I think this agreement is something that we can uphold," said Mycroft finally. "Don't you?"

And so it was settled.

"Excellent. Pleasure doing business with you." Harry gave Mycroft a curt nod before walking away, her heels clicking against the concrete and echoing loudly in the empty space. Before she reached the car, she paused and called back over her shoulder. "Oh and Mr. Holmes? Word of advice. If you were expecting me to come to this meeting inebriated and more prone to suggestion, don't send one of your women after me. I mean, I appreciate the sentiment, but coming out of a long term relationship is going to make me a tad suspicious." She chuckled and blew him a kiss. "Until next time!"

Heaving a sigh, Mycroft watched the woman get back into the car that carried her away. She was certainly something. Her brother had been exactly as his file said, but the sister was a surprise. After all, there was only so much that could be learned from a file. He hadn't done the same level of research on her as he had on John, which he admitted was a mistake that he would not make again.

Note to self: Never underestimate the opponent.

Well played, Harriet Watson. Well played indeed.