Epilogue, Sherlock and John POV
"If they simply took a moment to think about it, it would be obvious who was after the USB." Sherlock said to John as they watched Anthea and several more of Mycroft's minions bundle Hoover away in a vehicle. "Hoover was the lead investigator on the case in MI-5, he'd know about whatever was on the USB and he'd know the evidence was missing from the crime scene and would connect it to Lestrade who was leading the police investigation."
"He had men keeping an eye on Lestrade because of the threat on his life and would know his every move, when he'd get out of the hospital, when he wouldn't be at home. And, as Homeland Security collecting evidence from New Scotland Yard, he could've easily broken into Lestrade's office. Mycroft would've caught onto the fact that Hoover's actions were suspicious and not really protocol-material and he needed to be taken off the investigation team quickly. Again, Hoover was the only one who could make that decision. Really, it couldn't have been anyone but him."
"But, really Sherlock! Was it necessary to crush the man's nose?" John was asking Sherlock when they happened to glance outside and catch sight of the two men by the lake. "Holy Mary!" he gaped blatantly.
Sherlock shot John a look. "Eloquent, John-... eloquent." He scowled at the sight. "It seems I've overestimated Mycroft's aversion to emotional bonds and physical contact. I'm always wrong about something when it comes to Mycroft, damn him." Sherlock pouted.
"Oh, come on, Sherlock! At least be a little happy for them!" John smiled, steering Sherlock away from the window. "I think they'd make a smart couple."
"I'll never let Mycroft live it down. Oh, I can't wait for their first arguement." Sherlock smirked evily. "I've always heard it's the worst."
"I don't think it'd be too bad, they've been through worse." John shook his head. "You should've heard the arguement down at the Yard. I don't think I've ever heard Lestrade shout like that."
"And yet he still came simply because Mycroft was in danger?" Sherlock asked uncomprehendingly. "Why? I don't get it."
"If you and I had a fight like that, I wouldn't come to save you." John declared. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at him. "Nope, probably would let you die." Sherlock maintained his gaze and John could feel his resolve crumbling. "Actually, I might come." he relented, Sherlock smiled. "Might being the operative word."
Sherlock smirked at him confidently. "You'd come, John."
"Just as long as you keep the sodding body parts out of the fridge!"