Chapter Nine

The Thames House was menancing, and very beautiful in the morning light, Mycroft thought as the car pulled in to the car park. And it was so very mysterious. Mycroft felt quite at home here. He thanked his driver and entered the building where Hoover was waiting for him.

"Hoover." Mycroft greeted in a very business-like manner, hooking his umbrella over his arm and shaking the man's hand easily.

"Mister Holmes." Hoover smiled back grimly, squeezing the government agent's hand firmly.

"What seems to be the emergency?" Mycroft asked as Hoover led him down a hall and into an isolated room.

"It's about DI Lestrade." Hoover said grimly. "I don't think you should trust him." Blunt and to the point, one of Hoover's unique assets that Mycroft liked about him.

"I don't." Mycroft replied coolly. "I'm thankful that you warned me, but it isn't needed. If that's all you called me here for..." Mycroft inclined his head.

"I think I may know what they're looking for." Hoover continued, Mycroft's eyes flashed with interest. "We just finished going through the data and evidence from your previous home..." he trailed off.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. "And...?"

"The NOC list is gone." Hoover declared. Mycroft's jaw tightened. "Like I said, I don't think you should trust DI Lestrade."

"I doubt he even knows about it's existance, Hoover." Mycroft said slowly.

"I don't think we can afford to jump to that conclusion." Hoover shot back. "What if he does know?"

Mycroft nodded. "Your concern is touching, Agent Hoover, but like I said, I do not entirely trust DI Lestrade. So you have nothing to worry about." He began to walk away.

"And yet, you've taken him under your roof, Mister Holmes." Hoover called after him, stopping him. "You." he expressed pointedly. "Of all people."

It was a simple statement, a damn truthful one at that, and yet it made way for so many doubts, so many suspicions. Mycroft threw a haughtly look over his shoulder. "A word of the wise, Agent Hoover, keep your friends close, and your potential enemies closer."

"I prefer to keep them at arm's length." Hoover responded. "I think you're getting attached to this investigation personally and am removing you from it." he said after a brief bout of silence.

Mycroft shrugged his shoulders. "Do as you see fit, Agent Hoover." he said. "After all, being an outside agent to the Security Services, I shouldn't have been a part of the investigation in the first place." He smiled pleasantly. "Just as long as you get to the bottom of this case."

He gave his umbrella a little twirl and walked away.

It was well past sundown when Mycroft finally returned home, he clambered out of his car with a quick 'good night' to his driver and opened the front door. He walked into the house just as Lestrade was exiting his room, startling him.

He let out a less than elegant yelp causing, in turn, Lestrade to jerk and chip in a surprised yell. They stood still for a long moment, Mycroft gripping his chest as though to keep his heart from jumping out of his ribcage and Lestrade with an unholy grip on his bedroom's doorknob.

They met each other's gazes and burst into embarrassed laughter.

"You will forgive me, I am not accustomed to living with a housemate." Mycroft breathed, closing the front door behind him.

"No-...no." Lestrade covered his mouth, still not gaining control over his mirth at the ridiculous situation. "It's alright, just startled me a little." He calmed himself, still grinning.

They had all but traversed the living room when Lestrade gave up and threw himself onto a couch, his giggles erupting again. Mycroft looked at him with such a sour expression that Lestrade had to hide his face in his hands. "You do take your time to get over these things, don't you?" Mycroft noted, hanging his coat and umbrella on the arm of a chair and seating himself in it.

"You should've-... should've seen your face...! Bugger! I should've brought my camera!" Lestrade took a deep breath and after expelling the last few chuckles from his system, relaxed. "How was the crisis?" he inquired politely when he had perfectly recovered himself.

"Oh, strangling out the same old tune." Mycroft sighed tiredly. "We sat down very civily and had tea." Lestrade raised a dubious eyebrow. "Well, whatever it takes to prevent a World War III, you understand."

They sat in silence for a moment. "Do you mind?" Lestrade asked, motioning toward the TV, breaking the comfortable silence. "I heard Doctor Who is on today. Won't admit it on pain of death, but Donovan's a real nutcase about it." He chuckled. "If her word is to be trusted, I'm one of her rare confidants on the matter."

"And you think it's a good idea to tell me this?" Mycroft asked.

"Well again, won't tell even on pain of death, but everybody down at the Yard knows her deep dark secret. Apparently, it's something they all have in common." Lestrade chuckled wryly. "Also effectively sets me apart. I haven't watched the show since I was a kid."

"Ah," Mycroft nodded understandingly. "and your sergeant Donovan decided that this was the opportune moment for you to catch up, with your sick leave, and all." Lestrade nodded with a mock-exasperated sigh.

"Don't know what gets into her sometimes." He chuckled at some amusing memory. "Once told me she wanted to grow up to become the Doctor's companion when she was a kid."

"What about you?" Mycroft asked. "What childish dreams had you?"

"I-..." Lestrade thought about that question for a while. "I don't ever remember a time when I didn't want to become a copper." He eyed Mycroft. "You?"

"It's a funny story, really." Mycroft smiled a little. "Sherlock thought I'd make a good Antichrist, Mummy thought I should pursue a career in linguistics, Father was a politician, and I wanted to become a spy." He snorted. "Ends up, I do a little bit of everything." Lestrade laughed.

"What do you do, anyway?" Lestrade asked curiously staring blankly as Daleks roamed ominously across the TV screen with dramatic music playing in the background. "Can you tell me? Or would you have to kill me if you did?"

Mycroft turned his gaze from the screen to watch him. Lestrade didn't look back. "'Kill you'? How quaint." he chuckled, avoiding the question. "I prefer more... peaceful negotiation methods."

Lestrade snorted. "Insert a few words there, something containing the words 'the price of a man'."

Mycroft smiled at him. "Just so."

Conversation thus finished, they settled down into their seats more comfortably and watched their episode of Doctor Who.