Chapter Two

It did not take someone of Mycroft Holmes's intellect to deduce Joan Watson's state of mind at this moment. As much as he cared for his brother, right now he was angry at him leaving this...complication to the Doctor's recovery behind. Doctor Watson was fragile. Sherlock may not believe it but Mycroft knew better.

Looking at her now, it was hard to believe that this was the proud woman who had been in his office after their meeting with Kitty Riley. Her cold anger and logic had been surprising. The normally bright blue eyes were more like ice rather than summer sky and it had sent a shiver down his spine. The facts, calmly and meticulously laid out by Joan, had impressed Mycroft. Oh, how he had wanted to tell her the truth but it was for her protection. His apology to her as she had left was for more than she knew.

He could see the red in the whites of her eyes, the long blond hair pulled carelessly back in an attempt at proffessionalism, her blouse and skirt haphazardly pulled on after her examination and it screamed at him. Her pain and silence in the car was deafening.

The elder Holmes had been watching her since that day and it had surprised him how far she had fallen. It had been his and his brother's belief that, like most people, she would have been able to move on. Sherlock had been clear in his attempts to manipulate the woman into believing the worst. He had tried to push her away at the end but they should have known that she was loyal to a fault and that Sherlock's last actions with her had had more than one unforeseen consequence. Love.

He saw his parents in her. Her devotion and intelligence was very much like their mother while her common sense and practicality was their father. It was no small wonder that she had stuck by them.

Joan stared out the window, small fists clenched and tears running down her face. She had clearly long ago learned to be silent in pain, whether it was to protect herself from her drunkard father and sister as a child or as the lone female officer in her unit trying to prove herself, Mycroft could only guess.

He knew his presence wasn't welcome but it was necessary. His PA (Celeste, this time) had been attempting to put out the fires as a result of the doctor's medical findings going public. It was proving difficult which was saying something. His well placed agent, Morstan, had failed in her duty to keep the findings private. An unknown leak had occurred and it had become public knowledge. The tabloids had already begun printing. Magnussen was the first to take advantage of this latest twist in the Holmes familial affairs. His motivations weren't clear but it was benign...for now.

His main concern was how Joan would react to this latest development. He had warned his brother that attachments would be his downfall. He just didn't think that they would have been the downfall of those surrounding him.

The vibration of his phone caused him to stop his contemplations. Pulling it out, he read Celeste's text and cursed. The leak had been identified and contained but it was only a matter of time before Watson found out. It was best for her to find out in private before deciding her next move.

He heard the faint buzz of Joan's phone. Predictably, she ignored it. It continued to buzz, almost like a bee vying for her attention and just as annoying. Joan grimaced and pulled it out of her purse, glancing at the screen before rolling her eyes and shoving it back into her bag.

The trip to 221 Baker Street was silent and once they arrived Joan didn't wait for the door to be opened for her. She walked out without a word and stormed up the stairs. Eyeing the straightened knocker, she turned and glared at Mycroft.

"You know that continuously fixing this shows you have a likely case of OCD." She snapped.

The young blond set the knocker back at an angle and walked in without shutting the door, knowing that the elder Holmes would follow.

The flat looked very different from this morning's surveillance and Mycroft was impressed at his PA's quick work. It was now clean and habitable, safe for a pregnant woman. The kitchen table had been cleared of the chemistry set and all dangerous chemicals had been removed, the refrigerator stocked and cleaned as well as the laundry had been done.

Joan had taken one look and stiffened before placing an unsuccessful mask of indifference on. "Real subtle, Mycroft."

Mycroft repressed a sigh of frustration. He had known it was going to take a while for Watson to forgive him...if ever. He just hoped for the child's sake that she would.

"What do you want?" Joan lowered herself into her chair and kicked off her shoes.

She watched him and it was remarkable how similar to Sherlock she was then, picking up his habits like a second nature. Blue eyes carefully tracked his movements and patiently waited while he took his seat on the couch.

"Why are you so interested in me now?" She didn't wait for him to reply. "It's not like I'm a target anymore. Not since-" She turned away to compose herself. "You want me to keep it, don't you?"

Mycroft felt as if a cord was winding around his chest, tightening with Joan's cold words.

"Yes."

"Why?" She pinned him with her gaze. "Is it to try and assuage your guilt? Where was your concern and care when he was alive? Where was it when you were feeding him to the damn sharks?"

A deep breath in. "I re-live that day every night, Mycroft! If I had just been faster or smarter then maybe he wouldn't have jumped." Her shoulders slumped in defeat and he wanted to reach out to her.

"I'm not strong enough to do this." She whispered.

Mycroft smiled. "That is where you are wrong, Doctor Watson. I know you are strong enough. After all, your time with my brother has already gifted you with the ability to care for immature, curly-haired geniuses and I anticipate my niece or nephew to be a similar handful."

A mix of a sob and a laugh and he knew that he had said the right thing. Perhaps this would be a good thing for the doctor. Even though she was bent, she wasn't broken and that could be fixed.

Another buzz from Watson's phone drew her attention from Mycroft. His own phone buzzed with an email from his PA. She included copies of the articles related to the leak as well as a chart detailing public opinions. Negative opinions were quickly being traced for security threats. Celeste had already raised the security surrounding the doctor and made her follow-up appointment for tomorrow even going so far as to rearrange his Joint Intelligence Committee meeting to later in the afternoon in case he was attending the appointment with Dr. Watson.

Joan scrolled through her emails and was puzzled by the sheer amount. Notifications of comments to her blog, her Facebook and her twitter account were the majority of them. Logging on to her blog, she quickly saw what the commotion was about. There were the usual condolences about Sherlock but the latest comments had her gripping her phone hard enough for the plastic to creak. It was Sherlock all over again. It had to be. Mycroft or someone from his team had told the press to try and manipulate her.

"It wasn't my team that compromised your privacy."

"Why don't I believe you?" Joan muttered as she continued to read through the comments, most supportive but some hurtful. There were only two people that had known about her results that quickly and Sarah wouldn't have done this. Mary was the odd one out, the new employee. Easily forgettable, quiet, has access to everything...

"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice..." Joan glared at civil servant. "I think you should leave."