Nick had patted Baskeville on the head. The big black Labrador looked a little put out it wasn't being taken for a walk.

"Do you think we should let LeStrade know where we going?" Nick asked as they got in the car.

"You haven't asked me why yet." Mycroft was surprised Nick could drive.

"Why would I ask you that?"

"Because this morning you thought I had concussion or amnesia, and now in the middle of a murder case I've juts said we're going to a swimming pool completely unconnected to anything other than my brother's death. You're just humouring me aren't you?"

"If I say no you won't believe me. If I say yes then you'll get upset. How can I possibly answer that question? Do you want to go to the pool or not. You've never been wrong before."

"Just like that. You'll just come with me?"

"I love you." And then the mood was spoilt by Nick's phone ringing. He listened, his face turning pale and angry.

"Nick?"

"Jim from IT. Just as you said. Doesn't exist. They've found Dr Anderson bound and gagged in one of the mortuary fridges. And John Watson didn't show up for his duty shift this morning." John. Of course. It would be John.

"If we go we will find John strapped in to an explosive device. And there will be people with guns, who have been ordered to shoot. We could die."

"Do you love me Mikey?"

"Of course I do. I've always loved you."

"Swimming pool then?" Mycroft pulled his seatbelt on. That was too bloody tight as well.

The pool was in darkness. Only the emergency lights switched on. The reflection from the water casting eerie green dancing men over the tiled walls. Mycroft had been very surprised when he had put his hand into the pocket of his coat, not his smart Crombie overcoat, but a dark green waxed jacket, and had discovered the gun. Not just any gun. A Walther PPK. How very James Bond. But surprised or not his hand was now curled around it. Ready to shoot. There was a strange tapping, scraping noise, and he turned himself and the gun to face it. John Watson. Leaning heavily on his walking stick. Wearing a green parka. One of those with the big fluffy hood. Mycroft knew what it was concealing.

"Surprise?" Mycroft had heard this before.

"Shut up. James Moriarty. Why don't you come out here and face me yourself." The red fire flies of the snipers guns moved from John to Mycroft and back uncertainly. Mycroft knew there would be one buzzing on Nick as well. And then the odious little man in his snappy suit appeared and it took all of Mycroft's self control not to shoot him.

"Oh. And there was me expecting Inspector LeStrade. But this is better than I could have hoped for. And here. How ironic. I never liked Sherlock. Little know it all. Always got better marks than me. And it was so easy to get Carl to push him in. And then I was top of the class. Oh and Nicholas, how heroic you were diving in to save him, and trying to resuscitate him. Because after all he was your boyfriends little brother."

"Mikey. Just shoot him."

"He's a fiery little thing isn't he Mikey? Is he like that in bed? Does he know about your watch? I bet he doesn't."

Mycroft felt his watch in the pocket of his jeans. It hadn't occurred to him to open it. He could guess what was inside. No doubt it would be a computer generated image of Sherlock. Aged from a school photo.

"All those people dead. Why?"

"Because it's a game. A great game. It's called I'm cleverer than you."

"Really?"

"I got you to come here. And now here we stand. And your best plan is to point that little gun at me." Mycroft could see John Watson inching towards Moriarty, painfully, but determined.

"It's alright Doctor Watson. That won't do any good. "John stopped. "And I think you've already given enough for your country. Time to give up James. The armed response unit will be here soon. And if you kill me it's not just murder. Its treason. " Mycroft really hoped he remembered everything correctly.

"Oh well done. Let's up the stakes." He ripped John's parka off to expose the wires and explosives. The red dots focused on Mycroft and Nick. "Take off the explosives Johnny boy." John carefully removed his semtex vest and lowered it gently to the floor.

"And now what?"

"I will burn the heart out of you!" Moriarty glanced at Nick as he said it.

"Wrong thing to say." Mycroft's hand was no longer shaking as he aimed at the explosives on the floor. "You can kill me. You can kill them. You can kill everyone. But I will tell you a secret. You can't kill love. Not here. Not in any number of other worlds. Lovers be lost. Love shall not. Dylan Thomas in case you were wondering."

"And you really expect me to believe you are going to sacrifice them all. And yourself. You would never dare. You see Mycroft, you're a coward. Hiding behind all of that secrecy and cloak and dagger stuff. Sending other people out to do your dirty work. But you never get your hands dirty yourself do you? What's your final solution to my final problem?"

"You really are a very tedious little man."

"And you're going to die. That's what people do."

"There are far worse things than dying." Mycroft knew he was crying as he looked first at the serious face of John Watson. The soldier waiting patiently to face his own death with timeless dignity. And then he looked at Nick. His Nicholas. What he had spent every waking and sleeping moment thinking about since he was sixteen. And now he was going to destroy it. He could walk away. Take Nick with him. He began to lower the gun. And Moriarty started to laugh. A high pitched scream of triumph.

Nick moved so quickly. His hand was over Mycroft's. The green eyes looking into the blue. Mycroft's other hand clenched around his watch.

"I really did want to spend the rest of my life with you." And then there was an explosion that threw Mycroft off his feet and he was falling backwards.