Greg was in far better condition than Maryanne believed thanks to Doctor Wells' silence on the matter. Oh, he hurt, no doubt about that, but he would be ready to act if given a chance. For now, he lay there, pretending to be unconscious, his eyes barely open. His intention to remain still was sorely tested, however, at the opening of the door and Maryanne's corresponding words.
"Hello, Mycroft, my darling. Do come in." Maryanne glided over to him and placed a hand on his upper arm, then she went up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. "I've missed you so much."
Mycroft fought not to cringe away from her touch. He needed to placate her if he was to have any hope of getting near Greg, and he had to get near him to check on his injuries. "I haven't been avoiding you, if that is what you fear, Maryanne. Sincerely, I have lost my memory and have only recently been cleared for work."
"Liar!" Maryanne struck her fellow government official across the cheek.
Mycroft merely turned his head with the blow, then slowly turned it back to look at her, his gaze placid. He raised one eyebrow, silently chiding her.
"I'm so sorry, darling," the crazed woman said, stroking his cheek as she sought to soothe it. "But you shouldn't say such things. It makes me so angry when you lie. We should be above that, you and I, at least when we are alone together.
Mycroft knew allowing that line of reasoning to continue was dangerous. She might decide to kill the others so that they would truly be alone. He knew her, she could do it. She was that good.
He allowed himself to glance over her shoulder at Greg who met his gaze, eyes open momentarily. "It looks like your guest has seen some rough treatment."
Maryanne glanced back at the DI. "I didn't like his attitude. He deserves everything he got."
Mycroft grit his teeth to keep from arguing. "He's my friend. Allow me to see that he is well, release him, then you and I can be on our way. Pick the place. It matters not to me so long as we can be alone." He cringed at his words. They sounded overdone to his ears, but Maryanne was buying it completely.
She placed a kiss on Mycroft's lips, causing him to cringe. "Go ahead, love. But hurry." She pulled out her phone and made several calls, arranging for their 'getaway'.
Crouching down in front of Greg, Mycroft placed his umbrella on the floor. He positioned his body so Maryanne couldn't see the DI's face. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
Greg opened his eyes and nodded. He was alright, for a given value of alright. He had a headache and it bloody hurt where she had kicked him, but that was it.
Doctor Wells looked on, wishing he could communicate with Mr. Holmes, but Maryanne's henchman was watching him suspiciously so he daren't move. Still, he held himself ready in case the situation changed and he could be of help.
Mycroft and Greg gazed at one another, nothing but love and reassurance flowing both way. The DI trusted his lover implicitly and believed they would get out of their current situation. Mycroft was determined to make that happen.
He stood and turned away from Greg as if he was satisfied with his state, which was anything but the truth. "Now release him and... ah, yes, the doctor," he deduced, "and we can be going."
"It's not that simple, darling. Your little friend might believe he was coerced here and Doctor Wells might have misunderstood what he has seen. It does create a dilemma." Maryanne tapped her cheek with a well-manicured nail. "The best option would be to eliminate them."
"No! No." Mycroft calmed himself. "You forget DI Lestrade is a friend. We must find another way. A better way."
A crash sounded from outside the door.
Sherlock.
Mycroft took Maryanne in a chokehold, using her as a shield. As good as she was he was better. He only hoped his brother was expecting the gunman or things would go very badly indeed.