I know this love of mine

will never die.

x

x

x

"Why are you telling me this, brother? I'd think you'd want to keep this a secret from me?"

Mycroft and Claire sat together in the flat as John stood there with his arms folded. Sherlock played his violin as Mycroft spoke.

"I preferred to tell you myself instead of you rubbing it in with your deductions," Mycroft replied.

Sherlock chuckled. "You always said caring was a weakness, brother. Now, look at yourself. However, I will say I'm impressed. We always said as children that I'd have a girlfriend first. Seems you've won again."

Mycroft frowned. "I always win."

John looked at Claire as she put her hand on Mycroft's. "Have you told your father yet, Claire?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. We've only just decided about this whole relationship."

Mycroft stood up and brushed off his coat. Sherlock kept playing his violin as he stared out he window. John watched as Claire stood up and followed Mycroft to the door. He smiled at her and shook her head. "I'm sure he'll be as happy for you as...we are."

"Oh, I'm sure he will," Sherlock said, smirking.

John rolled his eyes and sent them on their way. Mycroft put his arm around Claire as they stepped out of the flat and were greeted by the wind cold from outside. He walked her to his car and they drove to the hospital. When they arrived, Lestrade was in hysterics. He couldn't believe it.

"This is some bloody joke," he insisted.

Claire smiled. "It's not a joke. We're together. He just wanted to come and ask for your blessing."

Lestrade glanced at Mycroft and scoffed. "How can I refuse him anything? Besides, Claire, you're old enough to make your own decisions."

Mycroft shook Lestrade's hand and cleared his throat. "I merely did it out of respect, Detective Inspector. It was all my doing."

Lestrade held Claire's hand tightly and glanced at Mycroft and asked, "Could we get a minute alone?"

He glanced at Claire and she smiled. "Of course. I'll be outside."

When Mycroft left the room, Lestrade looked at Claire and examined her face. She smiled and he couldn't help but smile back. Chuckling, he shook his head. "Of all the fish in the sea..."

She shrugged and understood how he felt. "He can be a bit uptight, but I've seen a different side of him. I like him...very much."

"You both look happy, but will he maintain that happiness for long? I'd hate to see you suffer the fate that I have, darling. Don't be blinded by your emotions like I was. You're smarter than I was at your age."

"Don't speak of yourself so cruelly. You didn't know what she was. It wasn't your fault."

He lowered his eyes as she squeezed his hand. "Then, love, I wish you both the best."

They hugged each other as he grunted from pain. Claire gasped and pulled away as his hand went to his side. "It's alright. It's nothing. Go on and meet up with your boyfriend."

"I'll have the nurse come in," she said, giving him a final squeeze of his hand.

She hurried out to meet Mycroft outside of the room. "He needs a nurse. He's in a bit of pain."

Mycroft walked off. "Let me call the nurse."

A nurse came and checked on Lestrade as Claire and Mycroft decided to return to Baker street to get her car. It was a chilly night and Mycroft thought she'd like to get a hot drink with him. She agreed and they drove off to Mycroft's favorite restaurants for a warm drink. They sat together as Claire rubbed her arms to keep warm. He removed his coat and placed it over her shoulders. They drank tea and talked a bit.

"So, working for the government...is it like it is in the movies?" Claire asked.

Mycroft grimaced. "How do they portray it in movies?"

"You know, everything's classified and there's secret things going on behind the country's back, but only the government know about it because it's secret."

He smirked. "That's class-"

She laughed and he chuckled. "Never mind. Do you have a favorite band?"

"Certainly. The Beatles."

Her eyebrows raised. "Really?"

"Why is that so shocking?"

She shrugged. "I figured you'd be a fan of classical music. I don't know why."

"I enjoy classical music. Do you?"

"Yes. Mozart is my favorite."

"Beethoven. I always preferred him, although Mozart was impressive."

He rubbed his left arm a bit and exhaled. Claire tugged his coat as it sat upon her and bit her lip. She slowly removed it and stood up to put it back on his shoulders.

"No, you keep it. I'm fine."

Gently, he held her hand and handed her his coat. She stared at it and then looked into his eyes. "Why are you so stubborn, Mycroft Holmes?"

"I was about to ask you the same question," he said, quietly.

He stood up and wrapped the coat around her and back onto her shoulders. His hand held strands of her hair and admired its color and feel. She placed her hand on his chest and looked up at him. "We were drinking tea until you decided to get sappy."

He shrugged. "You should've kept the bloody coat on, then."

"Mycroft Holmes?"

The color from Mycroft's face seemed to fade when he heard the voice. Slowly, he and Claire turned to greet its owner. Claire had deduced it to be an Irish accent as she stared at the man with dark hair and a slightly fancier suit than Mycroft's. He smiled at them and held out his hand to Claire.

"Richard Brooke. It's a pleasure."

Claire blinked. "Hello. Do I know you?"

Mycroft stood in front of her. "Old friend of mine. Has a nasty habit of appearing at the wrong time, don't you, Richard?"

Moriarty shrugged. "You know how I get, Mycroft. Good times, eh? Is this your girlfriend? She's just beautiful."

Clenching his fists, Mycroft put a hand on Moriarty's shoulder. "Let's talk for a moment, shall we?"

The two men walked off as Claire sat back down, blushing. Mycroft and Moriarty walked into an alley where they were alone. Moriarty couldn't stop giggling. "You have taste. She's just lovely. You think she has a thing for Irishmen?"

Mycroft slammed his fist into Moriarty's jaw. Grunting, Moriarty tasted blood in his mouth. "You'll regret doing that."

"I'll take my chances," Mycroft growled.

"What chances? You've taken red paint and drawn a big target on that girl's forehead! You've made yourself more vulnerable, old boy. That's so disappointing. Sherlock knocks it, but he doesn't have the guts to tell you."

"You stay away from her," Mycroft spat.

Moriarty laughed aloud and rubbed his sore jaw. Those dark eyes haunted Mycroft as he circled around him. "Threats are so boring. You've become as ordinary as your brother, Ice Man. But, I suppose that's why I've decided to let that girl live this long. She seems capable of bringing you back into shape."

Growing angry with rage, Mycroft tried his best to contain himself. "Leave her out of this. So help me God, if you harm her-"

"Like I said, she'd be useful in bringing you back to shape. However, you're more than welcome to explain the situation to her. It'll just get her a bullet in the head. So, I'd keep my mouth shut, if I were you, but that's just me."

"What do you want?"

Moriarty thought about it as if he wasn't really sure. "I want something that can't be given to me by anyone, but you. I'll keep in touch."

He walked into the shadows and Mycroft was alone. He breathed heavily as he stepped away. When he was able to breathe without trying too hard, he returned to find Claire still at the table. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to take long."

She sighed. "I wasn't sure if you'd be coming back. I think it's late. I'll be heading home."

Mycroft lowered his eyes and sighed. "I truly am sorry. Can we try again tomorrow?"

She smiled and thought about it. "Of course. Call me."

They left the restaurant as Mycroft walked her to her car. She unlocked it and looked at him one more time. "Can I ask a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Well, can you do it?"

He grimaced but smiled. "I need to know what it is, first."

"Can you check on my father, please? On your way home? They won't allow family in at this hour."

Mycroft shrugged. "What makes you think they'll let me in?"

They exchanged amused smiles and went their separate ways. Mycroft climbed into his car and drove off to the hospital. As he drove, he turned on the radio and, oddly enough, a Beatles song was playing. He hummed along to it as he drove. He easily got access to Lestrade's room when he arrived and grimaced when the lights were off in the room. Taking out his cellphone, he used its light to guide him to a light switch. When he flicked it on, his heart stopped.

Lestrade wasn't in bed. He wasn't anywhere in the room. Mycroft tensed and looked around the room. He hurried out of the room and bumped into a nurse who was holding a clipboard. She gasped and apologized.

"The patient! The one staying in this room...where is he?"

She glanced at the room number and at her clipboard. "Uh...21A, that's Gregory Lestrade. He's supposed to be in bed, sir."

"He's gone. He's not there!"

The nurse grimaced. "But, he's supposed to-"

Mycroft hurried back into the room with his heart beating fast. He walked up to the bed and discovered a note on it. He grabbed it and read it.

I told you you'd regret it :)