A/Note: I was astonished that some of you already favorited this story by chapters 1 (!) and 2. As I told one of the reviewers, I was afraid you'd find the beginning too boring. So I was very surprised and happy with the response so far. This story has only 6 chapters, you won't have to wait too long to see what happens next.

Enjoy this next chapter, Mycroft really is the king of manipulation! And please review, it's always great to have feedback. Thank you, thank you, thank you! You guys are awesome!

3. Offensive manoeuvre

'Oh, hi Mycroft. Sherlock is out, but he'll be home soon, he texted me about twenty minutes ago. He was at St. Bart's analysing some residues and I think he might've cracked it.'

'Good, good. He hasn't returned my calls, so I came to remind him this is a time sensitive case.'

John frowned. 'But you probably already knew that he wasn't here, didn't you?'

Mycroft smiled. He could see why his brother took a fancy to this retired army doctor. Hands in his pockets, he answered casually, 'Yes, John. You are correct. I just thought I'd use this opportunity to have a word with you before he arrives. You have questions?'

John's mouth formed a closed "o" shape as he thought about how to word it, changing it at the last minute from "what" to 'The day you handed him this case. What did you mean at the end? Something that irritated him immensely, as if you had yelled abuse at him.'

'Very perceptive of you, John.' Mycroft saw, over John's shoulder, Sherlock on the street, slowing his pace as he glared at the black car parked outside the flat. 'I assure you, I meant no ill to my brother. He's a brilliant man and could achieve so much more if only he joined me.' As he spoke, he slowly walked around, getting closer. 'But alas, he still holds grudges.' He turned to face John. 'So on occasion I have to resort to carefully chosen words to get him to cooperate with me. But know this.' There was the sound of Sherlock opening the door downstairs. Ignoring the etiquette of personal space, Mycroft took a step forward and lowered his mouth to John's ear. He whispered, 'He's still my baby brother. And I would do anything to protect him, against anyone who threatens him.'

And there was the sound of Sherlock stopping on his tracks.

He saw his flatmate backed up against the desk, with no way out, crowded by his brother, who was leaning over and whispering in his ear.

'Ah, Sherlock. John tells me you might have solved the case?' he said smiling nonchalantly, as he casually stepped away from John, hands still in his pockets.

Sherlock was furious. John was flushed, breathing slightly faster, his pulse thudding in his neck, his forehead creased, eyes wide and he seemed... alarmed?

'What are you doing?' Sherlock asked, not bothering to conceal his anger.

'You haven't returned my calls. Very impolite of you, I must say. So I came here just to make sure you weren't ignoring this case. And our - agreement,' he tilted his head, smirking.

Sherlock did all he could not to look at John. He averted his eyes from his brother also as he walked in and handed him a small plastic bag. 'General Willis is your mole. I found these ashes near the crime scene, where the body was dumped. His preferred brand of cigar. Now take your tedious file with you.'

'Not so fast, dear brother.'

Sherlock sighed and threw himself on his chair, picking up his violin and plucking the strings quietly as he explained in a bored tone. 'Classic case of blackmail. They threatened someone close to him, most certainly his daughter, given the framed picture in his office. He was coerced into stealing the files, but unfortunately was caught by your MOD man and panicked. Struck him, and the unfortunate victim hit his head on the corner of the desk, dying instantaneously. Given the publicity around the man's death, I suggest you may still have time to intercept the files. It's my opinion the blackmailers are waiting until the heat of the press and internal investigations die down a little before contacting him. Secure his daughter first, then he'll be glad to help you.' Mycroft had already taken out his mobile and made a cryptic phone call.

'Thank you, dear brother. You can rest assured now,' he smirked. 'You have my gratitude,' he bowed slightly. 'Enjoy the rest of your day. John.'

John was confused. He couldn't understand what Mycroft had meant. Did he not trust him around Sherlock? Was that a threat? It sure sounded like a very creepy one. He knew his brother was about to come in, so he made sure only John heard him. Before Sherlock could say anything, he ran downstairs. Outside, just as Mycroft was getting inside the car, he called 'Wait, Mycroft!'

He turned. That self satisfied grin was back. 'Yes, John. You have questions?'

'What was that all about? What you said to me? Do you think I mean to harm your brother?' He was offended that Mycroft could think so poorly of him after all this time.

He smiled and looked up at the window. Sherlock was watching. Luckily John was so much shorter that his brother wouldn't be able to read his lips as he lowered his face. 'No John, my apologies. I did not mean to make that sound like a threat. I knew Sherlock was about to come in, so I had to talk quietly. You see, he would never admit that I do care about him. It only infuriates him, so I try to avoid public displays of... affection, you may say.'

John let his breath out. 'You know, you two have a very warped way to show you care for each other. Next time, could you please leave me out of all this...' and he gestured vaguely.

'I'm afraid I can't, John.' He stepped forward again, bringing his face closer, his piercing blue eyes glinting as he said quietly, 'You see, I do observe. And I - still - trust you with my brother.'

John blanched and took a step back, blinking, his eyes huge. No. He couldn't mean-.

Mycroft lifted his chin up and looked down at John, with a smug smile. 'But rest assured John.' He tilted his head back down to hide his lips again, 'I have no desire to interfere at this early stage. I trust your sincerity. You are a good man and a good influence on Sherlock. Don't worry, I won't mention it to him. Have a good day.'

Damn the Holmes brothers! Of course he had noticed. Sherlock just hadn't because it isn't "his area". He stood on the pavement, breathing hard, staring at the disappearing car for a while. So basically "I'll break your kneecaps if you hurt him" was what that was about. He shivered. He knew Mycroft would be more than capable of breaking his kneecaps (or rather, sending someone over to do it), and worse. Early stage? I don't even know where this is going or if it has anywhere to go.

Still feeling uneasy and shaken, John went back upstairs. But Sherlock threw a hissy fit asking what Mycroft had said, why John had run to him, what they had said to each other next. He tried to convey the creepy way Mycroft had almost threatened him, but Sherlock knew there was more that John wasn't telling. In his deep disgust towards his brother everything seemed to make him angrier. John guessed Sherlock was still upset for having been forced to take this case, but couldn't help reacting to the anger directed at him. They shouted at each other, and Sherlock left in a strop.

...

'Sher-'

'What did you say to him?'

He chuckled amused. 'Nothing that the good doctor hasn't already told you.'

'No, there's more. You manipulated him to go after you. What are you doing?'

'He is quite predictable, isn't he? But do not worry. As endearing as he is, I won't take him away from you, as promised. Now if you'll excuse me, I do have to end this call. I just arrived at my next appointment. You do have my gratitude, Sherlock. Good day.'

Sherlock almost threw his phone on the pavement. Undoubtedly his brother had no interest in John, but that would not deter him from seducing the doctor if it was useful in some inexplicable way. John could easily be fooled into this kind of manipulation. Luckily, John wasn't gay. Oh, how he loathed his brother for having seen this weakness in him. That he was attracted to John.

Who now was very likely very much angry at him. Mycroft manipulated me perfectly. I took the case and now I pushed John away.

He stopped, Of course! Pushing us apart is the means to eliminate what he perceives as my weakness. Sherlock really loathed his brother!

He kept on walking, pondering about how to end this fight today, and make sure that John stayed by his side. They needed a murder. He texted Lestrade.

Soon he received the reply (Sorry, nothing for you today. GL). This was frustrating! The criminal minds never seemed to cooperate when needed! So he did the next best thing he could think of. He stopped on his way home to get some takeaway and milk. It should count for something.

...

Alone at the flat, John pondered again and again about all that Mycroft had said. He had affection for Sherlock, no doubt about that, they were friends, after all. In fact, he considered Sherlock one of his best friends, as absurd as this would sound to anyone else. Yes, he admitted he was a bit star struck in the beginning, Sherlock's amazing mind was astonishing. It was hard not to gravitate towards Sherlock's brilliance, but there was no reason to believe such attraction was sexual. Mycroft was making it sound like more than what this really was.

All his life he had never been attracted to men, he was straight and that was that. Simple.

But then, he had met Sherlock. Nothing about that man was simple.

He heard the door downstairs and the familiar footsteps coming up. Before he turned his head he smelled curry.

Wordlessly, Sherlock took a box out of a carrier bag and placed it onto the coffee table, then went into the kitchen and put something in the fridge. Still silent, he went into his room.

John blinked at the coffee table, then, after a moment, stood up and peered inside the takeaway box. He didn't think Sherlock knew what his favourite Indian dish was, that was a surprise. He checked the fridge and there were two bottles of milk in there. A peace offering? He smiled. It was only three in the afternoon, but he accepted the apology. It warmed his heart.