A/N: This one really does have lots of swearing and allusions to torture.

Chapter 7 – same time

"Mycroft?" Mary replied, her voice soft and bewildered. "Are you sure?"

She looked up at John and as John looked into her eyes he saw a wealth of emotions pass through them, confusion, fear, hurt, but simmering below them all was rage and it was the rage that concerned John the most. Something deeper was going on than just Mycroft and his web of conspiracies.

"Yes. I'd know Sherlock's writing anywhere and I've seen Mycroft's enough to be sure. I can see how you could have confused the two. They are similar. Probably something to do with going to posh public schools and generations of wealth." John was trying to lighten the mood, because he was concerned that this could rapidly get out of hand. There was more to this than a five year old grudge, but he didn't have all the facts and it was making him nervous. One corner of his brain was also painfully aware of the fact that he probably was going to be wearing pajamas when he punched Mycroft.

Mary started at the picture of the note on her mobile again and was blinking rapidly. Her face became pale and she abruptly sat down on the foot of the bed, her back to John with her head leaning against one of the ornate posts. She shuddered slightly and he could just barely hear her next words.

"I am such a fool."

John hastily moved the breakfast tray to one side and scrambled around to where she is sitting. He sat next to her, looking at her.

"Why? Because you were fooled by Mycroft Holmes? You wouldn't be the first," he grimaced.

She shook her head vehemently. "No, no, it's more than that. Sherlock would only ever text me. He wrote to me once, but when he did want something he'd text. I knew that and like a fool I ignored it. I was fooled by the tone of the letter and the signature. It was like a joke between us. I always accused him, teased him of being distant, emotionally and then he was far away so he always signed his texts adf – a distant friend- stupid I know, but we thought it might fool Mycroft. He was so adamant about Sherlock staying away from me," she frowned again at the note.

John hesitated with his next question. "Mary, were you…did you have feelings for Sherlock? Is that why this is so hard?"

She directed her gaze at him, still frowning. Then she shook her head in exasperation. "No, nothing like that! Yes he was intriguing, but no he was like a brother, a really annoying older brother. No! Mycroft has manipulated my feelings for Sherlock for what I owe him. He knew what happened between us. You can't know how awful it was," she almost sobbed and then clamped down on it. " He argued against us staying in touch and he used my feelings for all of this to get me to come here." She paused "Why? There's something more going on." She stood up quickly, almost catching John off guard.

"And I'm going to find out what the hell he's playing at."

She moved to the door. John jumped up and caught her arm. The rage in her eyes was a lot closer to the surface. He had heard it underneath the pain and confusion while she had been talking, but it was rising. She seemed like the type of person who could normally control what they were feeling, but from personal experience it wasn't always good to do that. When the emotions did come to the surface it could be potentially dangerous.

Mary looked down at the hand on her arm and her face tightened. "John you really don't want to do that. I know it doesn't look it, but I can throw you across this room." She tried to pull away, but John gripped her tighter. He was afraid he might be bruising her, but it didn't look like she could feel it.

"No you won't," he said sternly. He was using his best Captain's voice, the one that usually got Sherlock to behave. "You need to sit down and take some deep breaths, before you go tearing off after Mycroft. If you go down there like this, his staff will shoot you!" He gave her a little shake.

She glared at him, but he didn't flinch. She slowly let out a breath and then nodded tightly. She glanced down at the floor. John could tell she was having trouble controlling her anger, but he didn't let go until he felt her start to relax. As soon as he released her, she shot for the door and was out. It wasn't often someone could get the upper hand on him in a situation like this, but she did. And she was fast. John raced into the hall. He looked quickly in either direction. A man was posted outside the bedroom, probably the one Mary had been talking to when she asked for breakfast. The man pointed to the left as he started talking into his wrist, letting Mycroft's staff know there might be a situation with Ms. Morstan. John, realizing that must be Mary's last name, shouted at the security guard to tell them not to shoot her. He didn't know if saying that was going to make things worse

If you had told John a week ago that he would be running barefoot, in his pajamas after a very short, very angry assassin in Mycroft Holmes' house, he would have told you to pull the other one. He could just see Mary ahead of him down the hall, as she raced around the corner. He picked up his pace and caught sight of her as she came up to a closed door. She flung open the door and John could hear it bang against the wall. He was surprised that no one had stopped her. Mycroft must have been expecting her and had decided to let her have her say. John didn't think he was that stupid, but then Mycroft didn't know how angry Mary was. Or did he? John shook his head, which was pounding even harder.

Stupid! You have a concussion and you are supposed to be resting. Yeah, like that was going to happen anytime soon!

He got there just in time to see about seven stone of pure fury reach Mycroft's desk. Mary looked like an angry cat and Mycroft was just sitting there his usual unruffled self, his hands clasped together in prayer position, reminiscent of Sherlock.

"Mycroft," Mary spat at him. "What the fuck is going on? Did you really write this note? The one to get me to come over here and look after John? Did you?" She stood there waving the mobile in his face.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at Mary. John thought Mycroft was braver than he was as Mycroft held out his hand slowly to take the mobile from her. She stood, vibrating in her anger. He then raised both eyebrows and she almost flung the phone at him. He glanced down at the photo of the note. He almost smirked, but didn't. John felt that was probably wise.

"Ah yes. The note you received enticing you to come over and protect Dr. Watson.'

Entice? Really? Was that smart? John shook his head at Mycroft, hoping he would understand that he needed to choose his words more carefully. Mycroft now quirked an eyebrow in John's direction and nodded his head slightly, as if to say he was aware of the situation.

"What the hell are you playing at? What kind of twisted game is this about? You have made your feelings perfectly clear in regards to me and yet you set up this whole charade, making me think you were Sherlock, in order for me to come here and protect John? What the fuck is going on, Mycroft?"

"Would you have come if I had asked you?" he must have seen some kind of response in her eyes, because he continued. John sidled closer so he could see Mary's face and intervene if he had to. "No, I didn't think so. Despite our differences and past history, Ms. Morstan, I was not lying when I suggested to you that you are the best at what you do. Since leaving your previous employment," this time he did smirk "you have very successfully set yourself up as a body guard. I have been well informed that you have rendered this service to a number of important government officials and civilians, at home and abroad and have succeeded in stopping assassination attempts. I wanted the best for John's safety. Unfortunately for me, that was you. As I knew you wouldn't come if I asked you, I used your relationship with Sherlock to bring you here." He placed the phone delicately on his desk.

Mary leaned in closer, anger still evident in her voice as she spoke softly to Mycroft.

"Was Sherlock aware of any of this?"

Mycroft sniffed, "Not directly, no." John could see Mary relaxing fractionally. "I had suggested to him that we use you. He was adamant we would not."

"And yet you did it anyway!" Mary stood up straight and her body stilled. John could have told Mycroft she was more deadly now than she had been a moment ago, with the admission of those words. Mycroft seemed to sense it as well. John heard two more people enter the room behind him and glanced back. Security had finally materialized. Mary paid no attention.

"As I said. You are the best. I needed the best to ensure my brother's closest friend would not come to harm. I did it for Sherlock."

Mary stared at Mycroft and shook her head. "No, that's not all of it. There's more. You wouldn't have brought me here simply because I am the 'best'. You wanted something else out of this. You are going to tell me everything right now or I walk out of here." She was still managing to reign in a large part of her fury, but John could see danger hadn't passed. He inched closer. She turned to him swiftly.

"Stay out of this John. I don't want to hurt you." It seemed almost ridiculous coming from this petite woman, but he had seen what she could do and he felt that that was only the surface of what she was capable of.

Mycroft looked at Mary for a minute, nodded sharply and then abruptly stood up and turned his back to gaze out of the window behind him. He clasped his hands behind his back.

"I did not lie to you, Mary. I did suggest you come to London and I did it because of your expertise. Sherlock insisted I do not ask you, but I sent the note anyway, thinking I could always change my mind and I believe I covered that in the letter. When Sherlock died I fully intended to send you another letter telling you your services were not required. However," he paused and John could hear the weariness in his voice, the weariness of a man forced to make decisions that were not always beneficial for individuals. Mycroft turned and faced Mary and John could see regret in his face, "however, information reached me in regards to Moriarty's second in command. When I discovered who this person was, I had to make a difficult decision. I sent the information asking you to come, because I knew you would be the one person who would intrigue him into showing himself and bring him to London, where hopefully, I could have him captured or eliminated. Mary, I do deeply regret what pain this may cause you, but I felt it was for the greater good."

John was watching Mary's face as they both listened to Mycroft. He really had no clue as to what was going on, but as he watched her face, he realized Mary did. She went from the anger, to confusion, to shock and horror.

"No!" she said her voice soft at first. "No! You fucking bastard!" Her voice rose at each word until she was shouting at him. "How could you? Do you remember what he did to me? You arrogant, twisted, son of a bitch!" She flung the last words at him. Mycroft didn't flinch. John decided he needed to find out what was going on, but he didn't want to ask Mycroft. The urge to punch him was growing stronger. He turned to Mary and said as gently as he could.

"Who is it Mary?" He reached out to touch her, trying to comfort her. She flinched, but let him put his arm around her shoulder. She swallowed, her eyes blinking and her shaking increasing. John was afraid she was going into shock. She swallowed again.

"Colonel Sebastian Moran," she said. And then she abruptly shook off John's arm and ran out of the room. John wanted to go after her, but he needed to find out what the hell was going on first. He glanced at one of the security guards and jerked his head in an obvious command to follow her. The man hesitated, until Mycroft spoke.

"Please follow Ms. Morstan, Michael. Don't get close to her. Just find out where she is headed and see that she comes to no further harm." He turned to the other man. "You may leave us Paul." Paul left, closing the door behind him. Mycroft sat down again. John thought Mycroft had grown older looking in the last few minutes. He decided he really didn't care.

"You are going to tell me what the hell that was all about. And if you leave anything out, so help me, Mycroft…" John let the threat hang in the air.

Mycroft looked at John and nodded.

"I am aware of the conversation you two had earlier this morning."

Of course you are. Mary was right. You are twisted. John thought.

"I know that she mentioned the unfortunate incident from five years previous and I know she spoke of a certain Col. Moran as being the head of that whole sordid affair. What she did not tell you is that Mary orders to assassinate me came directly from Moran himself. When she failed to carry out those orders and when she in turn helped to organize Moran's downfall, he took it rather personally." John was thinking that that must be the world's biggest understatement. "Before we were able to set up our operation against him, Moran captured Mary." He paused and he looked levelly at John.

"He had her for three days before Sherlock found her. His appetite for revenge was so great that even knowing we were closing in on him he took the time to punish her for what he saw as a betrayal. Sherlock arrived just in time. Moran escaped. Mary does not know that I have been safeguarding her all these years in order to prevent Moran from finding her. I am certain he knew approximately where she was. He was bidding his time."

John could now appreciate the level of rage Mary felt for Mycroft. What he heard sickened him. He stood closer to Mycroft.

"You knew all of this and yet you still used her as, what, bait for that psycho? You are a twisted son of a bitch, aren't you?"

"John I do not excuse my actions. I do what is best for all. Moran must be stopped. This seemed expedient. If all had gone well, she would have never known."

John looked even more dangerous. "Well it didn't go well, did it?"

"John I think your feelings for Ms. Morstan may be clouding your judgement in regards to…" he didn't finish because John finally did punch him, in the eye.

"Piss off, Mycroft," he said as he stormed out of the room after Mary.

oOo

As John left, slamming the door to Mycroft's office behind him, another door to the right opened and someone came out, crossed the floor to open a hidden mini fridge and proceeded to wrap some ice in a towel. They crossed back to Mycroft and handed the ice to him.

"That went better than I expected," said Mycroft, wincing as he placed the ice on his eye.

"Brother you are a dangerous fool. I specifically told you to leave Mary out of this and yet you did it anyway," Sherlock frowned angrily at his older brother.

"What would you have me do, Sherlock? It was use her or use John."

Sherlock's eyes glittered dangerously at Mycroft. "You used both"

"Sherlock," Mycroft warned.

"When this is over I will decide if I forgive you for this presumption," Sherlock said. "You were not there when I found her," And with that, Sherlock swept out of the room in the direction he had come from.