Genre: Drama, angst, friendship
Timeset and spoilers: Post-Reichenbach, post-hiatus
Warnings: Spoilers, mentions of drugs, swearing, angst, some violence

Hey out there,

I am completely flattered by your response (it´s 30 people who have set me on alert by now), and currently getting rather self-conscious by it :)

Thank you for following my story!

I enjoy hearing from you! Keep tuned and have fun!

Blackmail

Charles Augustus Milverton is a man with power. Not in the common sense of the word, as he is neither rich nor influential. But he possesses the rare talent to gather useful knowledge that was never intended to be displayed to the public. He retrieves it from the most unlikely resources, and presents it to those who desperately need to hide their mistakes from the scrutinizing eyes of their superiors, spouses, or the general public.

This is the power he gloats over: to see his victims squirm under the knowledge that their careers and reputations are doomed if they don´t comply with his demands. In most cases, he requests money, in some he asks for favours. He has witnessed even the most arrogant men falling to their knees and begging, the most influential celebrities faltering and shrinking before him, whimpering, pleading to keep his knowledge of their deeds secret.

Milverton´s gaze falls on his desk, on the picture of an impeccably dressed man entering Buckingham Palace with an air of undisturbed confidence. Idly, he thumbs through several documents and a file with medical reports on the man´s younger brother.

Milverton´s next victim will be far harder to tackle than any other before. But it will be crucial for the web to bring him down, for the man has succeeded in gravely hampering vast parts of the web during the last two years, pursuing his own personal crusade to take revenge for his brother´s death.

Only his brother never died, as Milverton learned four months ago. This is a great advantage for his plans, he thinks. As soon as the return of the younger Holmes is announced, Milverton will be able to use the media´s attention for his own purposes. And the downfall of the man who unofficially runs the British Government will be so much easier to achieve if his actions can be connected to his brother and the public´s opinion turned against him with the help of the media.

Milverton smiles, for his plan is flawless, as usual. This time, he and the leading members of the organization are bound to win.

"My brother will move back into Baker Street next Monday." Mycroft´s voice is as confident as always. He sounds as if he has just asserted that the earth is an orb.

John, who has considered that nothing ever could aggravate him more than when Mycroft revealed to him that Sherlock was alive, couldn´t have been more clearly and utterly wrong. He balls his fists, cursing himself one more time that he picked up his mobile only to stop the persistent ringing of the past half hour. He had intended to tell Mycroft to not ever call again, but wasn´t swift enough.

"You can´t seriously think you can force me to take him back. Sure you can afford a little posh flat for your brother somewhere else in central London," he fumes.

Mycroft chuckles dryly. "Dear Dr. Watson. Do you really think I paid his half of the rent the past two years just for charity?"

"You paid because you were feeling obliged," John shoots back. "And you bloody well should be after selling your brother out to Moriarty like that."

To John´s bewilderment Mycroft laughs amusedly. "Oh, I forgot. Of course you must have thought that it was meant as payback for your pain. I dearly hope that your perception of my activities will change somewhat with the knowledge that Sherlock agreed to accept my help to hunt Moriarty down."

"Oh, you didn´t even feel obliged, then?" John´s voice has raised, and he is near shouting. "Your talent for compassion really runs in the family." He feels the desperate wish to strangle his caller. "Even if your brother were condescending enough to agree to take part in your game, don´t think for a second I will do the same and get involved in your manipulations."

Mycroft sighs. "Sherlock was intelligent enough to see that he stood not the slightest chance against Moriarty without my help. You are an intelligent man, too, John. Surely you understand that our best bet against Moran is to re-establish my brother in his role as the world´s only consulting detective as soon as possible, and get the attention of the media."

"Oh, is that so? Why, then, did he go out on his own to hunt the man all by himself?"

A short silence follows, and John has the eerie feeling that he can hear Mycroft think. But the elder Holmes has obviously only needed a second to collect himself to reveal something he isn´t too keen on revealing. "My brother is a very stubborn man," he answers. "I offered him my help, but he practically ran away."

Something that seems to happen rather frequently between the two of you, John thinks sarcastically. Nothing to ever worry about.

"John? I need you and Sherlock to appear together at Baker Street and face the public together. We need to paint as perfect a picture as we can."

"Count me out," John states firmly. He has no interest in ever getting involved in the Holmes-brothers´ affairs again.

"Are you firm on that? I assume you would rather move out, then?" Mycroft´s tone is scathing. "What a shame that it is fairly complicated to find a decent place to stay in central London that you can afford. Especially since you are currently not on a full working schedule and live on a reduced income as a result of the public´s perception of your involvement in the Richard Brook affair."

"What is that supposed to mean?" John asks.

"It means that unless you don´t want to stay somewhere in the suburbs or in a dull hotel room again, you´d better remain at Baker Street. As I told you several days ago, my brother needs you."

"Well, I definitely don´t need him," John replies, barely containing his anger. "As I don´t need you interfering with my life."

"Oh, this is not interfering. I would never want you to end up in a dump. I would not want to risk your safety, too. With the media hype coming and Sherlock´s plans for pursuing Moran, it is safer for you to stay under my protection," Mycroft replies. "And knowing you, you´d prefer adventure to a dull room somewhere away from the bustle of Sherlock´s activities any time."

There is truth in Mycroft´s words and John can´t deny it. As livid as he is about the elder Holmes´ interference, he can´t picture moving out at the moment. That would mean defeat, and he is not going to be defeated by both the Holmes brothers. No, he will stand his ground and wait for a chance to lash back. If staying in 221B is the price for proving his point, it is just as well.

He breathes out heavily. "Right. But don´t consider me any more than a tenant who is watching. I am not going to participate in your actions, whatever they will be. And expect me to move out as soon as I have found something fitting. Oh, and please don´t count on me as a medical counselor to your brother. I will definitely not baby-sit a recovering addict."

Mycroft sighs again, if for relieve or exhaustion, John can´t tell. "Your medical expertise will not be needed. Dr. Morstan will move into 221C, temporarily. My brother refused to take part in an outpatient programme, so he gets his personal consultant."

Dr. Morstan? Suddenly the prospect of Sherlock moving in at Baker Street doesn´t seem that abhorrent anymore. "Very well, we are clear then," John says.

Mycroft nods. "Fine. Oh, and John – try to get decent earplugs. Certainly my brother will feel the urgent need to keep up with his violin skills once he´s back."

When Mycroft cuts the line, John´s joy at seeing Mary Morstan again blocks out any anger he is feeling at being forced to welcome Sherlock back in 221B.