Mycroft called Claire because he himself had gotten a call. A spine tingling call. He didn't recognize the number calling him, and answered.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Mycroft. How's the diet? I hope you've been consistent."
Mycroft's blood froze at the voice. "Sherrinford. How did you-"
"Oh, don't ask questions. Is that any way to greet your favorite brother? Sherlock's been getting a lot of publicity. I know how much you hated publicity."
"What do you want?"
"I'll be arriving at Baker street tomorrow. I wanted to see how my little brothers were doing. With Sherlock's success as a detective and you're success with the government, I thought I'd visit."
Mycroft swallowed. "Very well. I'll be sure to inform Sherlock."
"Oh, thank you. I look forward to seeing you, brother dear."
He hung up and Mycroft could finally breathe. His eyes lowered and he clenched his fists. When he tried to call Claire, she didn't answer. Sleeping, he figured. It was rather late. He sighed and tossed his phone into the passenger's seat. Running a hand through his hair, he put his car in drive, and went to Baker street to tell Sherlock the news. Sherlock wasn't entirely sure what to think at the news. He mostly shrugged and plucked his violin.
"Did he ask about your diet?"
Mycroft rolled his eyes. "That isn't the point, Sherlock. He is coming!"
Sherlock pursed his lips. "Doesn't affect me much. Sherrinford always loved me. It's you that needs to be concerned, Mycroft."
"Why do you think I'm pacing the room?" Mycroft snapped as he was indeed pacing.
John folded his arms as he sat in his chair. "What's so bad about your brother?"
"Oh, don't fret. You'll find out tomorrow when he arrives," Sherlock smirked as he played a long note on his violin.
"Does Claire know yet?" John asked.
Mycroft froze and sighed. "I can't hide her from him. Oh, Lord, what have I done?"
John grimaced. "You talk as if he were going to rip her throat out."
"Oh, he probably would if he doesn't like her. The best thing to do is hide our engagement from him. It's the best thing to do. If he doesn't like her, he'll be comforted that I could 'end our relationship'."
Sherlock stood up and placed his violin on his shoulder and started playing a small melody. John stared at Mycroft until he spoke up again. He stared at his umbrella and looked at Sherlock. "I need you to play along with it, Sherlock. Please."
"Consider it done, if you agree to stop offering me cases outside of England."
Mycroft narrowed his eyes. "I can't promise that, Sherl-"
"Promise."
Sighing, Mycroft shook his head and gave in. "Done."
Sighing, he gave John a nod and left the flat as Sherlock continued playing. He felt his phone buzzing and felt relief when it was Claire. He answered and explained everything that was going to happen. Sherrinford. Everything. Claire decided to play along, but wasn't sure how long they could pull it off. Mycroft would be bringing her along when Sherrinford arrived at Baker street the next day, and he was not looking forward to the visit one bit.
"You mustn't let him control you like this, Mycroft. Don't be afraid."
Mycroft sighed and nodded. "I have to go. I'll be there at 10 tomorrow."
Claire nodded and they hung up. She ran a hand through her hair and removed her engagement ring form her finger. Staring at it, she put it aside on her nightstand by her bed and laid back down. She glanced out the window when she heard small drops of rain. Mycroft climbed into his car and put his chair back a bit to look out at the rain. Small drops fell upon the front windshield and dripped down. Sighing through his nose, he recalled the days when he and Sherlock were younger.
How Sherrinford was hardly there in those memories. He was sent to boarding school at a young age due to small acts of misbehavior. Things never got better when he was a teenager. He often bullied his younger brothers and got into big trouble for it.
Mycroft remember the one incident that caused Sherrinford to always hate him. The day he fell in the public pool and nearly drowned. Mycroft was only eight, and couldn't swim. Sherlock was only a baby at the time, so he didn't remember a thing about it. With a shake of his head, Mycroft ignored the memories and started his car. He gripped the steering wheel and drove off.