After an exhausting seven hour meeting Mycroft walks into his government office as the last of the day's light fades. Instantly his head drifts to the side in annoyance as he sees the figure reclining in his chair, feet casually up on the desk. He slams the door shut, trying to keep his temper in check.
"Sherlock, just because you somehow can break into my office doesn't mean you should or that it's clever" he snaps. "What is so important that you had to do this?". He places his briefcase down on the floor near the wall with a thud. "Then we'll discuss how you didn't set off any alarms".
The younger one just holds up what Mycroft knows to be his own private file on Greg Lestrade that should have been locked away. Mycroft's eyes flick over to his high security filing cabinet to see the drawer rolled out and carelessly left, the lock must have been picked. He watches as his brother swallows the last bite of a biscuit that he found on a saucer on the desk, having been left an untouched from morning tea.
"A PE teacher? Does he know?".
Mycroft just sighs. The top few images are of Mrs. Lestrade out at a café on three separate occasions with the same man. "No, I don't think he does".
Sherlock nods. "Your voyeurism is starting to take on a life of it's own" he notes, then turns the file over in his hands, giving it an in depth look. "Although your filing could be improved. Lestrade isn't in any of these shots, perhaps you should have separate folders for peoples nearest and dearest?"
Mycroft knows that the blood isn't actually boiling in his veins but at this moment he can appreciate the sentiment. He needs to stay focussed. "By the state of 221b I know I shouldn't be lectured by you on personal paper keeping".
Sherlock is seemingly relaxed, now trying to guess the weight of the thick folder in his right hand. "Nonsense, anything on the living room table below the first centimetre is from March and earlier. Apart from December, that's under the couch and in the pantry. Simple"
"Indeed" Mycroft sits in the chair opposite his usual spot with a sigh. The power play for his proper seat isn't worth the fight. "What is it you want, Sherlock? I've had a long day and am looking forward to a small drink and an early night"
"Well don't let me keep you from your brandy" he eyes the cupboard to his right which he knows to house the crystal set with the alcohol. His eyes are bright, burning with an unasked request.
"I'd prefer the one at home-"
"-twenty years older, smokier flavour-"
"-yes" Mycroft cuts in, just because Sherlock is right doesn't make him any less irritating. "I'll ask once more, what is it you want?"
"Access"
"To?"
Sherlock flicks his head to move his fringe a little. "One of your buildings. Houses old government files. Ones that haven't been entered into the system yet or shouldn't be in the system for various reasons"
Mycroft gives him a hard glare. "That would be the system that you don't have permission to access and shouldn't even know exists?" . He rubs his thumb across his finger tips on his left hand, while appearing to swirl his response around his mouth. "The one that I'd be very disappointed to find you've been repeatedly breaking into?"
Sherlock dismisses it with a wave of his hand. "Yes, that one, but now they're growing suspicious. I need your pass"
"Dare I ask why you need to look around there?"
"Research"
"On?"
"I have reason to believe that a few of the cold cases Lestrade dropped off last week were actually meant to be hushed up but somehow these files slipped through. There is no way that they can be solved when the a large chunk of the evidence is being hidden".
It didn't take Mycroft long to come up with his final decision. "No. But what you can do is give me the files and I will have someone go into Building 1.04x and then let you know if there is anything of interest".
Sherlock looks as though he's about to throw a tantrum. "But you'll just hush it up!".
Mycroft lifts his head, feeling some triumph for the first time since this conversation began. "Your choice. You can keep trying to solve them with 'a large chunk of the evidence hidden' or you can know in your heart that they are closed"
"But I wouldn't have solved them" he complains, crossing his arms with a huff.
"But they'd be solved" Mycroft reminds him, trying to tempt him with this fact and drive home it's the only option. "Unless you only want to do this so you can solve it yourself? Not very public spirited of you, in that case"
"Hrm". Sherlock is now looking away, lips pursed.
Mycroft considers the matter settled, he checks the time on his pocket watch and lets it click shut with a type of finality on the situation. "I'll let you know if any suitable cases come up, Sherlock. Hopefully a large case for you soon. I heard about your cataloguing of tobacco ash. Wouldn't want you to get bored, now would we?"
"What do you care?". Mycroft just raised his brows. "You're infuriating" Sherlock spits.
"And once again you've broken into my office. Surely I don't have to keep reminding you how dangerous that is?"
That did it, the man stands. "Well, I must be off, Mycroft. Get one of your lot to pick up the files, I won't be delivering them. But leave it a few days, I want one last attempt to solve them"
"Have a pleasant evening, Sherlock. I was wondering if-". The door slams.
Sherlock leaves the building, his brother's all access card hidden in his pocket.