John gently wriggled out from under the weight of Sherlock's limbs when he was woken by his ringing phone. Absently kissing a forearm as he broke free.
The name on the screen and the time immediately worried him. Joe. It was barely seven in the morning. He answered quietly, padding naked through to the living room. The younger man was having one of those reasonably lucid half hours between waves of his heat and was following up on last night's text. He sounded groggy but content and it broke John's heart to explain the shitty situation they found themselves in.
Joe took it calmly, a little too calmly for John's liking, so he did something he never did. He asked to speak to the alpha. Richard was borderline aggressive as you would expect post bonding but he took the information in at least. John ended the conversation by suggesting he made sure Joe ate a little and drank plenty.
He thought about staying up, getting on with something useful but decided, sod it. He was going back to bed. He inserted himself back into Sherlock's arms and was soothed to sleep within minutes.
A few hours later he woke to weak sunlight and a pleasant tickle on his thigh. Sherlock was lying between John's legs. His mouth working upwards from John's knee in licks, nips and open-mouthed kisses. John shoved a hand into the alpha's hair to let him know that he was awake.
Sherlock's lips left his skin with a wet noise. 'Morning.'
'Morning.' John replied, relaxing into his touch. He gasped as the alpha's mouth perfectly engulfed his sensitive flesh. He let his hold in Sherlock's hair ground him. He was good at this, neither too rough nor too hesitant, reading him perfectly. John came, crying out, howling, in a way Mrs Hudson was unlikely to mistake for anything other than what it was.
As he recovered he realised Sherlock was touching himself, frantically thrusting into his own fist. John gave his hair a tug. 'Sit up I want to see you.' He said hoarsely.
Sherlock sat back on his heels and looked at the wrecked omega spread below him. 'Can I?' He said, licking his lips.
'God yes.' John whispered. Eyes glued to the alpha' s cock until Sherlock emptied himself onto his stomach.
Sherlock cleaned John carefully. Then when they got up, without asking, made tea and toast. John didn't say anything but he knew that this close attention was the beginning of nesting. Caring, protecting, keeping John strong for the exertions of heat.
John hadn't ever looked forward to a heat, not really. It was an itch to be scratched. This time though he found he was looking forward to the in between. Those brief moments of exquisite, sated quiet when they'd lie and dose in each others arms.
The mood shifted a little when they got the text announcing Mycroft was half an hour away. Sherlock was silent as he dressed.
'What should I wear?' John said, partly as a way to break the tension.
'Whatever, no tie though, mother hates them at family parties.' Sherlock was in his usual suit so John dressed similarly.
Mycroft when he arrived wasn't wearing a tie either but while John had decided he looked passable and Sherlock looked fabulous as ever Mycroft looked like he'd been started by a fire alarm. Anthea on the other hand looked lovely. All the hard edges of working week softened away by a pretty floral dress and a messy bun.
It was the other omega who drove as they left London behind. Transitioning from motorway to A road to B road and finally onto a single track. Then onto what John realised was a driveway as they passed a Lodge house and made their way through an elegant park.
'Bloody hell Sherlock.' John muttered.
'I will resist the urge to point out that this was your idea.' Sherlock said smoothly as they got out of the car.
They walked at least twice the length of the flat into a large airy room with French doors that opened out into the garden. It was buzzing with the conversation of about thirty or so people. Mostly older, milling around with champagne flutes and plates of dainty food.
'This must be John.' A posh female voice came at him from behind and he smiled warmly as he turned. 'Mrs Holmes?'
'Oh I like him Sherlock. Marion. Sherlock's aunt.' She held out her hand. 'Since Vi is five years younger I'm going to take that as a compliment.'
John wished her a happy birthday and she led them over to a group where Mr and Mrs Holmes sat. They introduced themselves and Mrs Holmes hugged him (Mr Holmes excusing himself from the otherwise all omega group). She was actually almost tearful at the idea of Sherlock having someone and John felt the weight of the responsibility keenly.
Sherlock brought them champagne and perched on the arm of John's chair, peripheral to the group of older omegas. Aunts, uncles, friends. They asked him lots of questions, about the army mostly. Omegas in professional or senior jobs were still a bit of a novelty in the forces. John didn't think about it much, he'd just got on with it, but it was obvious they were impressed he'd taken the opportunities they'd never had.
He was asked about his parents and he gave them a potted history, skirting round Harry in his well practiced way. The conversation finally came round to Sherlock's work and the alpha told the story of one of the first cases they'd worked together. Of how they'd cornered jewel thieves in a warehouse.
'Of course we were lucky, John had his service revolver on him, otherwise we'd have lost them.' Sherlock said with a quick private smile to him.
John looked round the group seeing mostly indulgent faces at their obvious affection. Except Mrs Holmes, her face had shut down and she looked thoughtful. There was a quick, polite upturn of her mouth as their eyes met but something had changed.
John went back over what had been said and then...of course, his parents. She was realising just how common he actually was. He'd got so far on being Dr/Captain Watson but now he'd explained his background. Well, breeding will out, that was the expression.
He excused himself, heading for one of the French doors that seemed to have been left open for smokers. There were steps down into a rose garden and he sat on a stone bench fighting the urge to cry or hit something, probably both. He knew Sherlock was too much of an independent thinker to hang on his parents opinions but it still stung.
There was the scuff of expensive shoes on the steps behind him and he steeled himself as Mycroft sat beside him. He wasn't in the mood.
The older brother fished a pack of expensive looking cigarettes out of his pocket and there was a rasp of a match as one was lit.
'It's not what you think.' Mycroft said inhaling thoughtfully. John stared straight ahead, not wanting his teary eyes to be seen.
'Its not that you're from the wrong sort of family. They don't care about that. In my experience truly old money never does. No, it was the gun.'
'The gun? Surely they know what Sherlock does? It's in the papers every other week.' John turned to face him.
'They know what Sherlock does yes. They don't like it though. They accept it because they know the alternative involves police cells and rehab or worse. They have held onto the romantic notion that one day Sherlock would accept his biology, bond and put all that nonsense behind him. Then you come along.' Mycroft smiles at him, it's a little unsettling. John supposes it's meant to be.
'They had hoped for a calming influence, I always knew better.'
John absorbed this for a few moments and something creaked into place in his head as he remembered the first conversation with Mycroft, the insulting offer of money...
'When we first met, you were matchmaking?'
'I was hopeful that over time things may develop, I never thought he'd be on suppressant long term but he got it into his head it was the only way he could cope . I couldn't have anticipated the ankle of course.' The alpha stood and threw his cigarette end into damp undergrowth at the back of a flower border.
'Don't get me wrong it would have been nice if one of the omegas mother suggested had fitted the bill. Unfortunately all they had going for them was, well, a dowry. Old fashioned term but that's what it amounts to.'
'You people can't need the money.' John glanced around himself pointedly.
'You'd be surprised. It looks impressive from a distance, it's supposed to of course but up close.' Mycroft gently kicked a crumbling section of balustrade with a brogue. John looked down the garden to where Mr Holmes was showing some of the guests the roses. The grounds were certainly overgrown in places now he was looking closely.
'The roof leaks, it's damp. There's quite a list if expensive problems. I help when I can of course, as does Sherlock when a big case pays out. Anyway, the point is he'd have given in eventually, bonded to one of the trust funders for mothers sake but it would have been an unhappy bond for all concerned I think.' John remembered the conversation with Greg in the pub weeks ago.
'You on the other hand he adores. Mother will come round when she sees that.' Mycroft looked sharply at his watch, obviously uncomfortable.
'I should go mingle.' He nodded politely before hurrying back inside.
John sat thoughtfully in the pleasant breeze for a few minutes, watching the slow progress of Mr Holmes and company round the obviously much loved roses. Mycroft Holmes as cupid, God help them.
He caught Sherlock's scent before he saw him, his senses heightening in the build up to his heat, and as the alpha sat John leaned in.
'Was Mycroft threatening you.' Sherlock said, kissing the top of his head absently and handing him another glass of champagne.
'No more than usual. You escaped their clutches then?' John said reflecting how far Sherlock had come in a short time to be so openly affectionate in his parents house.
'I said I wanted to give you the tour, which I do. Come on.'
Sherlock showed him round the house, keeping up a steady stream of anecdotes most of which seemed to concern some disgusting experiment or humiliating Mycroft, sometimes both.
It seemed Sherlock's childhood had been happy if eccentric. They finished in Sherlock's old bedroom. Two adjoining rooms actually, with a very old fashioned bathroom. A good distance from the rest of the frequently used living space.
'It was decided I'd be better off here after a particularly pungent experiment with pig intestines.' Sherlock said matter of factly.
'I wish I'd had this much privacy growing up.' John said, staring out the window across park and fields.
'It was certainly advantageous, the door even locks.' Sherlock said, as John heard the click of the lock engaging. When he turned Sherlock was looking at him with undiluted lust.
'I've created a monster.' John said, arousal settling in his belly as Sherlock backed him against the fumbled their way to the narrow bed.
'We need to be quick in case your mum comes looking for us.' John said, protesting as Sherlock divested him of his clothing. Now there was a sentence he never thought he'd use at his age.
'Doors locked only one key.' Sherlock replied, pulling John on top of him.
It proved quick anyway. Mouths and hands and skin on skin friction working with the risk of being caught to quickly make them a sticky breathless mess. John was glad he'd stripped actually. The thought of having to drive back to London with Mycroft in come stained clothing was too horrible to contemplate.
'We could have waited till we got home you know.' John said, convincing no one as he stretched indolently. He'd loved it.
'Well I'm not keeping count.' Sherlock said. 'Anyway we have a flat to break into later.'
'Won't there be security?' John said, trying to get his hormone addled brain working again.
'Very little physical, why would you throw a lot of security at a virtually empty flat with some brochures? Would look very suspicious. No, there'll be a guard for the building as you'd expect. Useless most likely.'
John didn't share his confidence. They'd probably do what they always did. Rush in without much of a plan and then get out of any tight spots with the aid of Sherlock's lightning brain or John's gun. It had served them well.
They cleaned up, dressed and rejoined the party just as the birthday cake was being brought out. They tried to ignore the fact that anyone within three feet would know exactly what they'd been up to.
John noticed Anthea kept the windows open on the way home.
##########
A few hours later they were sitting in an old fashioned pub across the road from the address Joe had given them. Practically untouched pints in front of them.
'So, security?' John said quietly, Sherlock's eyes followed his left hand as it unconsciously patted the weight of his gun.
'CCTV and one guard.' Sherlock replied, staring into the still lit lobby of the building. 'Only CCTV downstairs, that bank of monitors at the desk looks impressive but only covers the finished floor. Once we get in and up the stairs it should be childs play. We'll go in the side entrance while we create a distraction.'
They watched as two well dressed people, probably sales,left. Probably omegas. Most salespeople were. It made sense, alphas had more money broadly speaking and omega pheromones seemed to loosen pockets.
'Come on.' Sherlock got up suddenly and John hurried alongside.
The omega's scent was getting stronger as his heat drew closer. Sherlock, while not distracted with the case, was torturing himself with doubts. He worried about being found lacking in some way, about somehow not being enough of an alpha for John. Or worse, about losing control, being too rough. He tried to focus on the task at hand.
They walked to the side of the building in a casual roundabout way. The lock on the temporary site door was laughably easy.
'Now for the distraction.' Sherlock said, getting out his phone while John held the door in place. He had ran through the options and decided to go with straight out angry and demanding with undertones of entitlement. He phoned the number that put him through to the front desk where the guard sat.
He had a story about a lost watch, an expensive watch. He ranted and practically accused the guard of stealing it. This persuaded the guard into moving away from the desk and frantically looking for the thing.
John was on the verge of laughing as they made their way in past the now unwatched cameras and up to the safety of the first floor. Sherlock abruptly terminating the call. They heard the guard curse loudly as he sat heavily back at desk to find a dead line.
'You're not worried he'll do a round or something?' John whispered.
'Hardly, he has two newspapers and a detective novel. He's in for the night.' Sherlock said as he opened the show flat door.
Inside it was very like the place Joe had shown John. They methodically searched the rooms. Working together seamlessly as usual. They were on the point of giving up when John noticed the headboard. It was a chocolate coloured velvet and looked deep and squashy but up close was rigid and hollow.
He gestured for the detective and they moved the bed as quietly as possible. Easing away the thin layer of plywood clipped to the back of the headboard. It revealed several ledger type books neatly fastened to the inside.
'Quite ingenious really.' John said snapping a picture with his phone. Sherlock gave an unimpressed shrug.
They opened the oldest looking one. Page after page of neatly printed columns. Postcodes , dates and then two columns of numbers.
'Cocaine, goes back years.' Sherlock said, running quickly through the pages.
Sherlock wondered if he had ever been an indirect customer of Graeme. They were taking out another book when they heard the sickening click of the door opening and two sets of footsteps.
' That Gill one is a bit ripe isn't she. Must be close for it to linger like that.'
'Yeah, she's a prickly little thing though, I bet she's not had a proper knot in years.'
Sherlock felt nausea rise in his throat as he realised it was John they were smelling, not the recently departed sales rep.
'A watch was it?'
' Apparently, some posh bloke lost it. Has Roy in a right flap, thought we may as well come and check when we were passing with the key. It's always worth him owing you a favour.'
Sherlock screwed up his face in frustration at how his ploy to get in had backfired.
Always something.
He sent a text to Lestrade, just the address and a plea for help. John had pulled out the gun and held it ready,every muscle taut.
The unwanted company in the other room chatted away as they searched for the non-existent watch.
Sherlock indicated for John to hide in the small wardrobe which the omega did with obvious reluctance. Then, quiet as possible, he pulled out a couple of drawers from the bedside table in an effort to make this look like a simple burglary. Finally he moved his feet just loud enough to be heard.
The voices stopped and he heard the slight shuffles and creaks as they moved towards the noise. Sherlock shrank behind the door as if trying to hide.
It was pulled away with force.
'What the fuck?' Sherlock was faced with two bulky, ugly, stupid alphas.
'Burglary,' Sherlock said smoothly, 'I should have thought that was obvious.'
' You must be pretty thick Raffles. Not only is there fuck all to steal but you're robbing the wrong person.'
'You swear a lot don't you? Shows a lack of vocabulary. ' Sherlock was keeping him talking. Trying to work out the way to get out of this.
The other alpha walked across the room to where both John and the ledgers were. The omega chose that moment to burst from the wardrobe but it was ever so slightly off. The alpha was close enough to push the door back in his face and the gun clattered across the wooden floor.
The alpha grabbed John. 'Oh now i know where the smell was coming from.' He licked a stripe up John's neck. Sherlock felt rage explode uncontrolled behind his eyes and lunged towards them. On some level he knew it was stupid. There was the other alpha behind him and the gun on the floor, both of which would have been better possibilities for action. He was pulled back by an arm at his throat.
John though, John was magnificent. He broke out of the alpha' s grasp, Sherlock didn't quite see how but it was quick. One minute John was held firm, the next his gun was back in his hand and the alpha behind him was bent double, his face a bloody mess.
'Let him go.' John said, voice firm, in command.
The alpha backed away from Sherlock, smirking. 'Funny arrangement, very Bonny and Clyde.'
'Over beside him. John gestured with the gun, breath erratic, to where the injured alpha had crumpled on the floor. The smirk continued as he moved.
'I bet he's absolutely wild isn't he. I like them with a bit of fight.' He addressed Sherlock who made to fly at him but John held out a warning hand.
'We're leaving now.' You're going to let us go.' John was dead calm the only trace of nerves a quick lick of his lips as they backed from the room. Sirens were approaching as the ran down the stairs and out the way they came in. Jogging round an alley to the side where they could watch the police approach, leaning against the wall to get their breath.
Another close call.
As a flash of blue light hit John Sherlock noticed something.
'What's that on your neck?' His stomach lurched because he already knew the synthetic scent that was invading his nose.
John ran a hand over and peeled away what appeared to be a large sticking plaster.
'Fuck.' John said holding the thing between shaking fingers.
Sherlock attempted a calculation in his fogging brain. Ten minutes maybe less, perhaps it wouldn't bring on a full heat.
'Get me out of here.' John said tightly, face blotchy and sweating already.
Sherlock led him back towards the Street, glancing down towards the two police cars parked outside the building.
'Sherlock you need to take me home. I need you to...'
John was collapsing against him and the alphas arousal was flooding his own body. Making him consider options that were totally out of character, like taking John here, against the wall.
He felt slight relief as he saw Lestrade's car draw up behind the two marked cars and drawing on all his willpower he half carried John towards the car. The omega gradually becoming more limp and pliant in his arms.
'Christ Sherlock.' Lestrade said backing away. Hand over his nose, confirming Sherlock's worst suspicions.
'Sally please take John to hospital.' Sherlock ordered , opening the back door of the car and bundling the clinging John inside with difficulty.
'but why can't you just take him home and..'
'Sally just do it.' Lestrade broke into the beta' s protest. ' We'll follow in a cab.'