Set during Stalemate

MI6 wasn't a place Hermione had often had the honour of visiting. She found she rather disliked the experience, finding it an education in manipulation and, ultimately, a waste of her time. The meeting she had just come from had been with a Mr Tanner, regarding the potential of magical defence systems in espionage. He had attempted, somewhat foolishly, to coerce her into complying. She had, in no uncertain terms, told him to get stuffed, a story her husband would almost certainly enjoy. As she stepped out on to the street, Hermione scanned the crowds restlessly, her eyes catching on something that was probably a coincidence but looked entirely too real to be completely discounted.

The coincidence was slight, with a head of dandelion fluff hair in a shade that was remarkably familiar and the level of intelligence which had let him know almost immediately that he was being observed. She frowned, taking in the aristocratic features, the flask of tea balanced next to him and the sharp, curious eyes which stared back at her unrepentantly.

For a moment Hermione simply hovered in indecision, one thumb rubbing against her wedding ring. Then she crossed the stream of traffic and walked smartly towards him, her heels rapping against the pavement as she approached the bench. She didn't wait to be invited, simply setting herself down next to him and smoothing out her suit skirt.

"Lovely weather." She commented dully, placing her files on her lap. The plain manilla was designed to be unrecognisable from any accountant's office world wide, so Hermione wasn't overly worried about them being read. Besides all of her notes were coded in a somewhat pointless attempt to keep Sherlock out of them.

The young man next to her didn't respond and Hermione guessed that he was probably of an age with her and certainly not any older than twenty five.

"My name is Hermione." She said without any further preamble. "The surname used to be Granger, but it changed a few years ago."

Sharp eyes glanced from her to her left hand, blue eyes hidden behind stylish frames and the man pulled his anorak slightly tighter around him.

"Possessive, is he?" The man asked, accent cultured and precise.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Rather." She sighed. "Still, this could of course, be a complete coincidence but I don't believe in such a thing. He certainly doesn't." Hermione frowned. "I am almost certain you don't exist." She mused. "Either to do with your work, you're obviously employed in MI6 or, perhaps, to do with meddling higher up in the government from certain individuals. Anyway, I won't waste time asking your name, as I've done nothing to earn it." He did nothing to refute this claim, just watched her silently. "It's a pleasure to meet you, however informally." Hermione added, refusing to look away.

She waited for a second, but where her husband seemed destined to fill every second of the day with noise and action, this man seemed just as happy to leave them empty.

"Family is important." She said at last. "It always will be. Mine has always been unconventional and my marriage only increased that, I'll admit. But I will always step forward for those who fall under my remit. I suspect that you would do the same." She reached out with one slightly scarred hand and touched the back of his where it rested on his trouser leg. "I don't know what that pair of idiots did, but let me assure you if you ever need any help, anything at all, I will do everything in my considerable power to help you." Her teeth gritted. "No matter what domestic such an action may cause.

The young man didn't respond, and Hermione didn't expect him to. Instead she got to her feet and gave him one last smile before she strode off into the ornamental gardens.

"Have a nice day, dear brother." She called back.

The tall man melted out of the shadows, making his way determinately towards the bench. Eyes as cold as steel took in the woman's retreating back before he filled her now empty seat. She looked like a bureaucrat. She walked, however, like a soldier which was mix that nobody liked, least of all him.

"Trouble?" He asked carefully.

His companion smiled dangerously, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Hardly. Although there's certainly no need for your over protectiveness."

The blond man snorted at that but relaxed slightly, in the same sort of way that a panther relaxes to fool you into think you're not prey. His gaze was possessive however and the younger man seemed to endure it with some amusement.

"An old friend?" He inquired.

"On the contrary," The younger man teased. "A complete stranger. Or at least, she was."

"She seemed to know you..." He growled.

"She is remarkable intelligent." waved the next question aside before it could be asked. "Those of genius level intelligence do find it easy to recognise each other."

A further five minutes passed before the older man spoke again, straightening his suit.

"So are you going to tell me, or do you enjoy being smug?"

"Immensely." The smile turned into a smirk. "I believe I just had the pleasure of meeting my sister-in-law."

"One of those nightmares managed to tie down a woman?" The blond exclaimed, disgusted.

"Oh, I'm sure there's an interesting story behind it." He coughed. "All though it is possible they actually did tie her down. She didn't really seem the type."

The other man rolled his eyes, used to his companions habit of getting off topic.

"What did she want? To warn you away like the rest of them, or...?"

"I believe she just welcomed me to the family." There was a quiet exhale of air. "I do hope she knows what she's gotten herself into."

"I didn't." His companion grumbled.

This is the first in a series of shorts which didn't quite fit into my Flatmates series. The others will probably center around Hermione and Sherlock's two years on the run and Mycroft and Anthea, because I like the idea.

Please tell me if you pick up on the subtext. Or the other pairings.

Recovering from a cold,

Hood and Genius

P.S for those struggling. Think Skyfall...