Author's Note: I'm really sorry it's taking me so long to update my stories - I started university in September and I've been so busy with assignments! I hope you enjoy the chapter though, and that it was worth waiting so long for!
This was it. At 2:07pm precisely, the man whom Mycroft's sources had informed him to be Doctor John Watson emerged from his therapist's office and began his journey home through Regent's Park. Doctor Mike Stamford had been seated on a bench in the centre of the park, meaning that there was no route that Doctor Watson could possibly take which would result in him not passing his old seated colleague. Mycroft himself was monitoring the whole scenario via numerous CCTV cameras in the surrounding areas. He also had radio contact with every single one of his operatives that he had placed out there in the park to make sure Stamford played his part well.
The doctor had been instructed to get Doctor Watson into St Bartholomew's Hospital between the hours of 2 and 7pm that day, as these were the hours in which Mycroft knew for certain that Sherlock would be holed up in one of the labs there, conducting his 'experiments'. In fact, Mycroft had even 'suggested' last night that his brother do so today in order to calm himself after the events of the previous night, to submit to science again and forget the emotional baggage that inescapable human interaction came with. Thus, this formed the perfect chance for Doctor Watson and Sherlock to 'accidentally become acquainted with each other', as there were so many reasons Stamford could draw upon to get Doctor Watson to the right area of the hospital, too. Even Mycroft - who had a limited but practical knowledge of the sentiment commonly used by other humans - could name at least three things that the two doctors had in common. Firstly, they were old friends. Secondly, they were old colleagues, and thirdly, a suggestion could be to visit their old teaching hospital in which they were both trained to do one of the things that most defined them. Sentimental values like these worked wonders when trying to coerce somebody into doing something.
However, Doctor Watson was an intelligent man, and - more importantly - he was still honed in to his army training, meaning that if he had the slightest suspicion that he was being set up for something, he would assume it to be a trap and react negatively. That was simply not an acceptable outcome. This situation needed to be handled with the greatest care and attention, planned down to the last detail, which - of course - was Mycroft's speciality. After assessing both the emotional and physical state of Sherlock last night, Mycroft was painfully aware that his brother was desperately in need of somebody that would not shun him for behaving in a way which was so inherently Sherlock.
Sherlock himself actually had many redeemable characteristics: he was loyal, dedicated, intelligent, and had a strong-if-sometimes-misguided moral compass, but people failed to see these things because they did not take the time to look beyond the younger Holmes' cold exterior. It was Mycroft's hope that Doctor Watson could be this person, this exception to the rule, and the government official believed it to be a distinct possibility after reviewing all the data his database system held about the doctor.
He'd read witness statements and transcripts of Doctor Watson's medical consultations, all of which testified to the Doctor's character being suitably matched with that of Sherlock's, but only if both parties would give it a chance. Neither would do it under coercion, and so Mycroft's scheme of having Mike 'introduce them by chance' would have to suffice. It wasn't his greatest plan by far - there were too many emotional variables that had to be factored in for Mycroft's liking, something which never needed any consideration in the military-style plans that Mycroft constructed for the Government on a daily basis - but it would have to do. It might not be the elder Holmes' most intellectual work, but if it worked then it would certainly be the one he was most proud of.
The headset in Mycroft's ear crackled to life as one of his operatives spoke, interrupting his musings.
"Doctor Watson has almost reached Doctor Stamford, Sir."
Mycroft rolled his eyes. "I can see that, thank you. Maintain your position and cease communications on this channel, unless the situation deteriorates and my personal intervention is required." Why did people insist on telling him information that he could see for himself? It was a rhetorical question; of course he knew why they did it. The operative who had spoken was one of his newest recruits, an ex-police officer by the name of Gregson. The man had previous experience in the field, and was proving to be promising at espionage, if only he would stop trying so overly-hard to impress everybody so much. Did Gregson really think that somebody of Mycroft's importance had reached his current position by stating the obvious?
"Yes, Sir. Of course."
A calming silence resumed as Mycroft watched the interaction between the two doctors play out. Surprisingly, Doctor Watson agreed to join Stamford for a coffee, even though he was displaying all the customary signs of discomfort - his manner was irritable, he was seated some distance away from his old 'friend', and he couldn't stop the tremor in his hand which occurred when he was in need of some action, not a life of sedentary chats about the past. Bearing this in mind, it was clear that Doctor Watson didn't really want to be sat there making awkward chitchat about his war injury with a man who apparently hadn't even heard that he'd been shot.
Mycroft, on the other hand, could not be more pleased with this turn of events. Doctor Watson didn't want to be there, but stayed in order to be polite and friendly. His smile was fake, his interest in life a facade, even if Mycroft begrudgingly admitted that it a very good one considering what the poor man had been through. Regardless, the main point was that Doctor Watson stayed there. He stayed. If he could stay and sit through the tedium of Doctor Stamford complaining about his 'monotonous' life which he opted to do nothing about, then surely he would be able to tolerate some of Sherlock's more eccentric habits? The younger Holmes was not known for his social skills, but he was certainly never dull. Doctor Watson needed that - he needed somebody decidedly not dull.
Mycroft sat back in his chair and linked his fingers together contently, placing them in his lap as he watched and listened to the conversation between the two men evolve in just the way he had hoped. Conveniently, Doctor Watson had mentioned his need of a flatmate, and Stamford - having seen an opening here to do as Mycroft had asked - had suddenly been able to 'miraculously' suggest a man who was in the same predicament. With Doctor Watson's inquisitive nature having won out, the two doctors were on the way to visit that very man.
Little did Doctor Watson know that in the space of twenty-four hours, he would be inseparable from the man he would meet in less than half an hour's time. Sherlock would unwittingly arouse Doctor Watson's curiosity in him through that unusually charming way of his, and the rest - as they say - would be history. Neither would know what - or, more precisely, who - had brought them together. In time, they would attribute it to luck, coincidence, chance and fate. Nobody would ever be aware of Mycroft's intervention, or of the fact that he had managed to put together two people who couldn't be more perfect for each other if they tried. This was exactly the way that Mycroft wanted it to be, and the way in which Sherlock needed it to happen.
Sherlock and Doctor Watson - though Mycroft suspected that it wouldn't be long before he could retire the formal title and call the man 'John' instead - would be inseparable. More than that, they would be amazing.
Yes. Yes. Mycroft could see it now.