CHAPTER 9. ISSUE

The sleek black car pulled up to a building, and the driver got out to open the door for Jeremy. The blond Doctor nervously exited as he was clearly expected. "I'm sorry, why am I here?" No one answered his question; great he was a dead man, again. Somehow this time he doubted he would be coming back from the dead. He walked through the open doors of the empty warehouse building, the lights dim, he could see there was a man standing in the middle of the room leaning on an umbrella.

This felt vaguely familiar, and Jeremy thought he should be nervous however instincts told him to be more annoyed than anything. Annoyed? Exasperated? What was this?

"Uh, hello." John approached the stranger in the expensive gray suit. "I was told by-well you wanted to see me?"

"Doctor." Mycroft smiled despite himself, it was John, this man could not be anyone else but Doctor Watson. He even had an annoyed expression, that same polite grin.

The British Government didn't understand the sudden urge to shake the man's hand or god forbid hug him. This impulse was almost too strong, his eyes told him logically that John was real but his brain wanted more of a conformation. It was just like the first time seeing Sherlock after the fall.

"I can appreciate the confusion you must be experiencing, please sit." Mycroft pointed to the chair directly in front of him. John frowned then looked back at Mycroft, to the older Holmes' amusement John hadn't noticed the chair until now.

"No, I'd rather stand. Thank you. What is this about? I was-"

"You were just on a crime scene following Sherlock Holmes blindly through the alleys of London, without question."

"Excuse me?"

"John." Mycroft could tell the soldier was becoming even more irritated. Good. Perhaps this situation will jolt something in John's faulty memory.

"Alright, I am at a disadvantage you obviously know me, but I apologize I don't know you. However I get the feeling this isn't the first time you've kidnapped me?"

"John, kidnap is such an over dramatic word, really it's more like a business-"

"Cut the crap. What do you want?" Before Mycroft could answer his phone started to beep from a text, without looking he knew it was Sherlock, he chose to ignore it, but another followed and he knew better.

"Excuse me Doctor Watson."

"Oh, please, apparently I have all day. Don't let me disturb you."

Give him back.-SH

Really Mycroft what do you hope to accomplish?-SH

Where are you?-SH

I will hack your work computer and it will trigger a system lock out if you don't answer me.-SH

"It seems my brother is missing your presence. Doctor I only wanted to offer my help, come I may have something to jog your memory."

John didn't move at first but the tall man passed him without waiting; he approached the black car, getting in John realized the blackberry lady was gone.

"Alright fine, I guess I don't really have a choice."

"No, you don't." Mycroft replied while texting.

I'll bring him back after I've spoken to him.-MH

"Here perhaps some light reading." The posh gentleman produced a folder marked confidential from mid air like magic. He handed it to Jeremy, "Go on. I'm sure you're curious about who John Watson was-is."Mycroft corrected himself quickly.

Jeremy opened the folder the words confidential were stamped in red, the first page held a paper clipped photograph of well-it was Jeremy but not. This version of him wore a dress uniform, John was a soldier.

"Are these therapy notes?" he asked suddenly offended and curious.

"John, I do hate redundant questions, do try to remember that."

"How the hell do you-who are you?"

"I occupy a minor position in the British Government."

"Mycroft," Jeremy growled, "You can let me out where you picked me up."

"John I'm sure you want to know more, I do have whole audio files as well as video feed of your interactions with Sherlock."

"I'm not interested-"Jeremy had scanned the notes from a therapists quick hand,

"Trust issues." Mycroft sighed.

"You-this is personal. How did you come by this? You know what don't answer that. I don't know how Sherlock puts up with such invasion of privacy. It's a wonder the two of you hardly talk civilly." John snapped the file shut handing it back irritably forgetting what exactly he was going on about.

"Next I expect you'll be asking me for to take a bribe for information on your brother." Jeremy shook his head. "You know what, here is fine." The car had slowed for a red light and the Doctor nearly jumped from the car, sure to slam the door behind him. "Video surveillance indeed." It wasn't until he was four blocks down that he recalled the conversation. John knew Mycroft was Sherlock's older brother. The memories of hunting down hidden cameras and microphones were flooding his mind.

"John!" Sherlock was running towards him. Jeremy had a big grin on his face until he saw the detective. Why is it he could remember Sherlock's brother but had yet to remember Sherlock?

"Well you survived Mycroft. Did he try to bribe you again?"

"I didn't give him the chance-how did you know where to find me?"

"I texted him and he told me." Sherlock left out the part where he held Mycroft's laptop's password hostage, of course the older Holmes would have figured it out(eventually) but one thing Mycroft hated was wasting time. Time was relevant to everything Mycroft Holmes did, it meant money and man power the difference of war and peace a red light and a green light. Mycroft was boring.

"We are going to check out a lead." Sherlock hailed a cab and he was pulling John inside before he could object. "You were grinning. Did Mycroft's poor attempt at socializing stir your memory?"

"I remembered he was your brother, but I can't remember much. I did tell him off and in the process I said something about surveillance, that can't be right can it? Do you-"

"Oh yea, my brother and his concern. It's dreadfully annoying."

"Oh, I bet. Now where are we going?"

"A lead, I believe our killer had drinks at Mulls Pub before he killed the man. He is defiantly a regular."

"Right. What if he's there-"John didn't receive an answer, and the cab was already pulling up to the curb.

The two entered the pub and Sherlock went straight to the bar, as soon as they entered a man shot out the back door, and just as quickly Sherlock and John gave chase.