"What the hell?" John gasped, immediately rushing forward as Mycroft hit the floor.

"Blackhawk captured." Anthea spoke softly into her radio with a triumphant smile as she watched John deal with Mycroft's wounds.

"Good shot." Sherlock said, looking over at the MI6 agent, "Your superiors will think that there was some sort of battle, showing your skills and Mycroft's."

"I was taught by the best." Anthea replied proudly, winking to the detective before her back-up arrived.

Medics arrived and took Mycroft out of John's hands, loading him into a private ambulance and taking him away to one of MI6's units.

"I hope I don't have to threaten you both. What you witnessed tonight must stay strictly confidential, for both your sake and Mycroft's." Anthea said quietly to the two flatmates as they watched the ambulance drive away, "I will ensure that our goons aren't too hard on him for deserting, but you both must also keep quiet."

"Of course." Sherlock agreed with a nod, surprisingly serious for once.

"Yes, we won't say anything." John replied, glancing up at Sherlock for a moment.

Anthea nodded and smiled to them both, "Goodnight." she said, walking away and climbing into a black car.

"Do our taxes just get spent on chauffeured cars?" John murmured to Sherlock.

"Yes, that and expensive, dramatic showdowns in Canary Wharf." Sherlock replied with a chuckle.


"Back in post then, brother dear?" Sherlock asked as Mycroft entered 221B with a flick of his expensive umbrella.

"Yes, just about." Mycroft replied with a tight smile, sitting down gracefully on the sofa.

"How are your wounds?" John asked curiously, his eyes pausing on Mycroft's waistcoated torso.

"They are as to be expected. A necessary evil, as such." Mycroft replied with a slight grimace, "I am lucky that Anthea is such a good shot."

"I presume Anthea is now your superior?" Sherlock said with an amused smirk.

Mycroft swallowed and frowned at his brother, "Yes. Anthea's position is a compromise that I was encouraged to accept if I were to return to the service."

"Encouraged?" John repeated, looking over the government official.

"Yes. Encouraged, persuaded, advised." Mycroft replied, "I dread to think what my fate would have been had I not taken their encouragement."

"Do the Russians know that you were planted to gain intelligence?" Sherlock asked.

"I will pretend that I didn't hear that. Any such thoughts are purely theory and I can neither confirm or deny them." Mycroft replied.

"How are you coping with your...hobby?" John asked curiously.

Mycroft looked over at John and smiled darkly, "As part of my agreement over Anthea's new position, I have also been allowed to take up a more active role in operations."

"Oh. Good." John replied with a nervous nod, "As long as you're handling it."

"You needn't worry, John. My specialist skills are being put to use for Her Majesty's benefit." Mycroft replied with a slight smirk, enjoying how uncomfortable the subject obviously made the ex-army doctor.

"Is this just a social call or are my abilities being requested by MI6?" Sherlock asked, although he already knew the answer.

"I was merely passing by and decided a social call was in order." Mycroft replied, "Some tea would be lovely, John."

"Oh, tea, okay." John said, startled by how normal everything seemed to be again. He got to his feet and walked into the kitchen, making three cups of tea as he listened to the two brothers bicker and tease each other. Yes, everything was finally back to normal.