John

"Victoria, you tell me why you abandoned Mycroft!" Sherlock demanded as Victoria made her way back to her penthouse suite, "He needed you! It's a rarity Mycroft asked for help-"
"Sherlock stop. Not here. For God sake. Not here..." pleaded Victoria as they entered the cool, grand foyer of her hotel. Cold air wafted from the air vents all around and cooled the tension between the pair of them, "Do you have a hotel or-?"
"Yes,yes, yes, of course I do" Sherlock retorted and made his way ahead of Victoria to the elevator, "Floor..." he gestured towards the buttons as they stepped inside the marble floored elevator. Even the elevator was regal. White crisp walls on either side and a vast window at the back of the elevator. The back of the doors were mirrored to expand the small space. Victoria pressed the Presidential Suite button and in a flash, the doors closed and they moved. Victoria tightened the cord on her crotched overall and adjusted the straps of her bag on her shoulder, "Sherlock, you have to understand something. I haven't backed out because of my own desires. Really, I haven't," Victoria began. His hands suddenly went to behind his back and were clasped together to listen to her intently, "Mycroft... I don't know how to say-"
"Spit it out. Come on now." Sherlock demanded as his rage began to get the better of him, "take plenty of time..." he chuckled quietly to himself. Victoria scrunched her eyes together and was silent until the elevator doors were pulled open to the suite. Sherlock seemed overcome with such beauty as he took in the surroundings of her suite. The rich royal blue carpets. The pristene white walls and how they where brought together with cream and golden pillars. Victoria threw her bag onto a nearby setee and made way for the bathroom, "You better be gone by the time I'm finished. I don't want to see you, Sherlock." snapped Victoria harshly. Sherlock followed her voice to the echoes. His eyes gazed into the white marble bathroom through the crack in the door. From what he saw, the whole room glittered with sunlight,
"I-I'm not leaving until you tell me why you left Mycroft-" before the sentence finished, Victoria pulled the door wide open and nearly screamed,
"Sherlock! I didn't leave him! He told me to get the hell out of dodge!"

Astonished, Sherlock moved backwards and listened to her as the bath was being drawn in the background, "Mycroft told me that Magnussen is targeting you. And to get to you, he will get through John first. I can't risk John being hurt because of your big psyche. I can't risk my big brother, pretty much dying for someone to get the one-up on you. I am not prepared to do that." she huffed and blew some of her hair out of her face. Sherlock unbuttoned the only button on his blazer again and took a seat on the setee where her bag sat, "I was told as well, that this Magnussen has something on Mary. Now, how do you think John would feel if he knew? That me and Mary are targets in something we aren't even involved in. I have helped barely on one of your silly little cases and Mary- Hell, Mary is brand new to this little Baker Street set-up, isn't she?!" Victoria's anger grew quicker than she had ever expected, "I backed out for John and for Mary! They are going to be having a child together, Sherlock! I thought you of all people could put the puzzle pieces together! I didn't up-and-leave. I was asked, regardless of my career position and prosperity. I was asked out of care and love, Sherlock. Your brother cares more about your best-friend than you do!" She yelled at him. Immediately, he got to his feet,
"Don't you dare bring our friendship into this! I care deeply about John and his welfare!"
"It isn't about that, Sherlock! It's about trying to save John! It's always about saving John because of what you brought him into! You brought him into Irene Adler's view point, Moriarty's firing line and because of this, he has a lovely plot probably already dug in Magnussen's private cemetery. Because of you, Sherlock, everybody wants John as a trophy-kill to prove that they have gotten to you. So, you have to buck the fuck up, Sherlock and take this man on yourself. Completely retract all threats and do this one-to-one!" she screamed and hysterically broke down crying, "Think of their baby, Sherlock! Think of it!" she manically wailed and made her way into the bathroom and locked the door shut behind her, "You have killed my brother!" she wept and Sherlock heard her slide down the wall and hit the marble with a thud.

Back in London, Mycroft sat quietly in his office. His hands were tightly held together atop of some newspapers which had tabloid lies scrawled within them. He Made Me Wear The Hat. Shag-A-Lot-Holmes were just Mycroft's personal favourites. His legs squeaked against his new leather chair as he went to stand and circle the chair opposing him, "You know that we have to get Sherlock into Magnussen's view point. Loud and clear. The ideas you've given to me will prove excellent. Everybody loves a good read of the paper, don't they?" Mycroft chuckled. In the chair he walked behind, Janine sat still, almost terrified to say something, "W-why do we want Sherlock in Magnussen's view?"
"Oh! I haven't told you... Well, think of it as encouragment. It will attract attention to Baker Street and John. Sherlock won't want John in anymore danger than he already is brewing in. Henceforth, this will make Sherlock eliminate all threats with Charles Magnussen..." Mycroft lead on but Janine couldn't help it,
"You want Sherl to go face to face with him? Like a showdown?! Are you insane?!" She chuckled with a smile but her eyes were serious,
"Oh, yes, yes, yes. It's all been pre-arranged. For example, Sherlock Holmes is in Dubai right now being shouted at from a close colleague of mine. She has told him that he has to confront Magnussen. We now just have to wait for the right time to publish your fantastic ideas and this whole thing will be over." Mycroft hung his head as his phone began to vibrate on his desk. Making his way slowly over to it, he spoke bluntly, "you will be paid handsomely by the tabloids and you can just get out of London for good. You do not look back when these stories are published. We cannot risk a flaw in this machination... You can see yourself out."

Before long, Victoria returned to London and before even dropping her bags at her flat, she hopped right into a cab,
"Where to, love?" The cabbie asked with a welcoming smile as if he knew she had been away for a while,
"Nearest firing range please" Victoria replied and turned her phone off abruptly as an incoming Mycroft call came through.