A/N: I couldn't leave it at that, I'm not that evil.

xXx

It had been two days since Sherlock had returned to 221B, and Mycroft hadn't heard from Greg. He was starting to worry. My knew he shouldn't push, but he sent Greg a text anyway.

Want to get a coffee later? – MH

Greg sighed when he read Mycroft's text and considered ignoring it; however, he realized that would be a mistake, they needed to talk and sooner was better than later.

Noon, usual place – GL

Mycroft let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding.

See you there – MH

xXx

Greg walked the few blocks from New Scotland Yard to the café he and Mycroft frequented. Greg took one last drag of the cigarette he'd been smoking and looked in the window. He stubbed it out when he saw Mycroft already sitting inside.

Mycroft looked up as Greg sat down across from him, eyes hopeful. He pushed the coffee he had gotten for Greg towards the other man.

"Thanks" Greg picked it up and sipped his coffee silently, looking out the window. Mycroft just sat looking at Greg, waiting for the other man to start talking.

Greg sighed and looked at Mycroft.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was for your own safety. The more people who knew the more danger you all were in. As it is we've had to have someone with Miss Hooper at all times."

"Wait Molly knew? So her lab assistant boyfriend is really a body guard?"

"Molly only knew because she helped Sherlock pull it off….Well Paul started out as just a bodyguard." A smile crept on Mycroft's face as he thought about the couple. When he had assigned Paul to Molly, he hadn't realized that subconsciously he had been playing matchmaker.

"I see" Greg said flatly. "Mycroft what else have you lied to me about?" Greg kept his emotions under control. No use causing a scene. The fact that Mycroft had hidden things from him reminded him of Amanda and strengthened his resolve.

"Nothing. I don't tell you things because I can't. I thought you knew that. I have to be secretive for the sake of national security."

Mycroft kept his panic in check, a man of his political stature couldn't be seen crying desperately in public to keep the man he loves.

Greg pursed his lips. Even though he loved the man sitting across from him, he had to say it before he got hurt even worse.

"I think we should call things off for a bit."

It happened. The words Mycroft had been dreading for the past few days had come from Greg's mouth. He took a deep breath and put forth a calm façade, even though his heart was breaking. It's what he wants, and Mycroft would always give Greg what he wanted.

"I agree."

Greg blinked at the calm, almost cold reply. He cleared his throat.

"Very well then" Greg got up and left the coffee shop, walking back to work. As soon as he was out of sight of the place, he wrapped his arms around his middle as if he was cold; in reality it was to keep himself from falling apart.

Mycroft sat staring at Greg's unfinished coffee for a bit. Finally he stood, paid for the drinks and left. It wasn't until he was at his office alone that he dropped the calm façade and broke down sobbing at his desk.

A peaked in to tell Mycroft that the Prime Minister had called while he was out. One look at her boss and she closed the door. Anyone who asked for him, she told them he was in an important meeting.

xXx

Mycroft woke up at his desk, his back was aching and his head was pounding. He didn't remember falling asleep, but then again, he didn't want to remember that afternoon.

He sat up and saw a cup of water and two aspirin not far from where his head had been laying. He dutifully popped the pills and drank the water, knowing if he didn't A would let him have it.

Mycroft wondered how much time he wasted sleeping as he powered up his computer and checked his email. A came in a few moments later with a cup of coffee and stack of files. She set them down on the desk and gave Mycroft's forearm a gentle squeeze accompanied with a sad smile before leaving.

Mycroft stopped typing, closed his eyes and took a deep breath before throwing himself into his work, the only thing that kept the despair from crushing him.

xXx

Greg had been staring at the same crime scene photos for hours. Agitated he shrugged on his jacket, grabbed his pack of cigarettes out of his desk and walked out of his office.

He got to the elevator and stabbed the down button a little harder than he intended. The doors slid open a few seconds later and Greg was about to storm in when he saw Sherlock standing in the elevator.

Greg scowled and entered the elevator hoping Sherlock would get out and leave him alone, but he had no such luck. Sherlock was smart enough to keep quiet during the ride down to the lobby and followed the older man outside.

It wasn't until Greg had lit his cigarette and sucked in a lungful of smoke did he ask why Sherlock was there.

"What do you want Sherlock?" There was a bite in his tone Sherlock wasn't used to and he weighed his answer carefully.

"I came to ask if you had any cases you need any help on."

"Why should I let you help again? Where did it get us the last time, with you faking your death and the rest of us having to clean up your mess and thinking you were dead."

"I'm sorry Greg. Moriarty had assassins watching you, Mrs. Hudson and J-John. He shot himself before I could get him to call them off. Faking my death was the only way to keep you alive. Molly only knew because I needed help and her every move wasn't being watched through a scope. Mycroft would've been kept in the dark as well but Molly took it upon herself to inform him of my plan right before I went up on that roof."

Greg took another drag and exhaled before speaking.

"Fine, but there are going to be some new rules. We are going to clear you with Scotland Yard to work with me and any other DI's that choose to accept your help. Most likely they'll put you on the payroll as a freelance consultant to make it legal. You're going to have to tell me when you're running down leads. If you find any evidence, you hand it over to me and we go through proper channels for you to run your own tests on them. If you plan to include John, he needs to abide by these same rules."

Sherlock had been nodding as Greg listed off his conditions. When the last was said Sherlock looked away, a wounded expression on his face. Greg saw this and wondered what it meant.

"Sherlock is there something wrong with you and John?"

"I haven't heard from him since that night I came back to 221B. I phoned Harry to see if she'd heard from him and she informed me John was staying with her and didn't want anything to do with me."

"I don't blame him. You put that man through hell with faking your death."

Sherlock looked at Greg like a puppy that had just been kicked.

"Sherlock he loves you, and he thought you died. He didn't grieve properly for fear of losing you. You may say that makes no sense, but to him it did. I don't know if he'll forgive you, but for now you have to give him time and space to process this."

Sherlock was quiet, soaking in Greg's advice while the older man continued to smoke. Greg took one last drag and stubbed out the cigarette. He moved to go back into New Scotland Yard but Sherlock placed a hand on his forearm, stopping him.

"You really should forgive Mycroft. It's my fault he didn't tell you I was alive. I had sworn him to secrecy. Other than that he's never lied to you."

Greg was shocked by Sherlock's concern for his older brother.

"He's miserable without you Greg." Sherlock stood up straight and fiddled with the cuffs of his coat. "And if you tell him I said this I will vehemntly deny every word."

With that Sherlock walked off down the street, leaving Greg to reflect on his words.