Title: Brothers Three

Summary: The lives of three brothers intertwine in a variety of ways. When R suddenly becomes Q due to an explosion at MI6 he is forced to turn to his half-brother for help, but Sherlock Holmes has his own problems to deal with. The confluence of the lives of the three Holmes brothers through the events of Skyfall, the Reichenbach Fall and beyond in the alternating points of view of Q and John Watson.

Parings: Mostly friendship unless you happen to want to read anything in between the lines. Lestrade/OC in passing.

Warnings: Spoilers for Skyfall and Sherlock Season 2. Language. Some violence. Potential OoC moments. Shakespeare quotations taken out of context and mangled mostly as chapter titles. A dictionary might prove useful as both Q and John tend to use obscure words. Unbeta'd and not Brit picked. I apologize in advance for any anachronisms, grammar errors and/or typos. Author's notes, if any, will appear at the end of each chapter.

Standard Disclaimer: All characters and settings belong to their respective owners. I am merely playing with them for my own as well as your amusement. I recieve no compensation, I make no profit.


Chapter 9 – The End is the Renown

"In position," Bond's voice was quiet over the communications link.

"Roger 007," said R "We'll let you know if we spot the objective."

"Where's Q?" 007 asked after a short pause. He'd obviously been expecting my voice in his ear as it had been for the past two consecutive nights.

I spoke up from where I'd been observing in the doorway to the communications room, "Attempting to drink my tea 007."

"You should get Medical to hook you up with an I-V drip when you are running mission ops. That way the cup wouldn't get in the way of your giving me advice and directions that I'll mostly ignore anyway." Bond's voice was teasing.

"But then I'd have to fire the new interns whom you seem to enjoy harassing. They do such a good job with tea."

"Attempted harassing, they seem to be immune to my charms."

R sniggered and chimed in, "Medical has come up with a vaccination that we are testing. It gives immunity to 00's."

"Ah, so that's the problem," said Bond. "I'll just have to put in a bit more effort then."

And so it goes. The bane of all espionage operations. Hurry up and wait for the other side to make a move. A little bit of banter goes a long way in situations like these. I let R and 007 go at it for a while. She still needed the practice, especially with the 00's. After all she was less than a year in the position and only three months or so of directly running the high value ops. Being a voice in an agent's ear was relatively easy. Being a trusted, welcomed voice was another thing all together. It rarely clicked immediately and the verbal sparring helped. I tuned back into the conversation in time to hear R rib Bond about the average bra cup size of his on mission conquests and his counter about her penchant for older men. Neither seemed to be offended.

"Children, back to work now!" That was a bit ironic since I'm physically younger than both of them.

They chorused "Yes sir!" in sing-song voices. I formally took over communications and we settled down to watch and wait.

We were after big game tonight, one Sebastian Moran. Ex-army sniper turned arms supplier to the rich and infamous warlords of Africa and the sole remaining member of Moriarty's inner circle. He'd been on MI6's radar for a while but had recently been elevated in threat level due to his close association with one particular African warlord. His removal would make a good portion of central Africa a lot less of a hazard to work in. 007 had pulled the assignment but Moran suddenly had started moving just as he was getting close. 007 had chased him from Khartoum to Johannesburg and then through a variety of European countries to England. We hadn't had a clue why he was taking the risk of leaving the continent until Sherlock contacted me.

Sherlock and I had ditched the cell phone connection rather early on. Instead we had been communicating via a private FTP drop site run by a very select hacking society. Everything we sent was encrypted with the base used to generate the algorithm changing with every message. Sherlock indicated that Moran was having trouble with a front company in England that he used to launder money. He also hinted that he might have been spotted and identified by someone in Moran's operation in the Sudan. He wanted me to keep an eye on Watson, Mr. Hudson and Lestrade and let him know if Moran was stalking them as opposed to just attempting to deal with his money problem.

A little strategic digging and a modicum of hacking and I had traced Mr. Moran's dilemma. His front company had run into a technically competent and completely ethical accountant. Ronald Adair had been hired to audit Moran's import/export business. Somehow he'd managed to find the shadow books on the company servers and had made major inroads into unraveling the entire system. He'd been meticulous and careful. He only accessed the private files on the server from a laptop via public internet connections. Unfortunately, while he was competent he wasn't a hacker and he'd left traces of what he'd done all over the system. It had taken them several weeks but they managed to figure out who had accessed the files and where he was. Adair had been killed a week ago before we had authority to take him into MI6 protective custody. Some days I think that the bloody bureaucracy kills more people than the 00's do.

What was really annoying was that while I knew Moran had killed Adair I hadn't been able to catch him doing so. I'd tagged him upon entry to England but Moran was a slippery character and well connected with the local low-lifes. He was quite adept at staying off both the electronic radar and the CCTV cameras. The bastard had used the one spot on the entire block that didn't have adequate camera coverage. I suspected it was intentional.

After Adair's murder we assumed that Moran would stick around London a day or two to make sure his pet company was safe before disappearing back into the wilds of Africa. I figured the only way we'd catch him was to give him something else to shoot at. Someone he wanted very badly to ensure was dead. Sherlock. M was not too keen on the idea of involving a civilian but agreed to give it a try as long as Sherlock agreed.

Sherlock had followed Moran to London. Moran was the last major threat from Moriarty's network and Sherlock was planning to try and take him down anyway. I set up a meet with Sherlock in person. Things were too complex to do over the phone, FTP or dead drop. Once I outlined my idea Sherlock agreed to come in from the cold and resurrect himself. Of course he did it in typical Sherlock fashion and just showed up at Mrs. Hudson's door immediately after we met. Luckily the closest member of the surveillance detail happened to know how to deal with acute hysterics.

We'd spent the next day in 221B installing a very clever set of projectors to give the appearance that Sherlock was home and give Moran something to target. Sherlock then proceeded to get into contact with some of his not quite so above board connections in the London underworld. I calculated that it would take less than 24 hours for word to get to Moran. I was surprised that he didn't touch base with either Lestrade or Watson at the same time. I think he was still attempting to protect them as much as possible. I didn't confront him directly about it, merely gave some off the cuff odds on reactions and got snarled at for my pains.

I also, unbeknownst to Sherlock, had a set of special cameras installed in the neighborhood. By the time we were done I had visual and infrared coverage of not only Baker Street but also the alleys and side streets. 007 had taken a look at the logistics and opined that the optimum place to take the shot would be the building currently being renovated across the street from 221. I didn't want to chance either the workers or Moran spotting any cameras mounted inside the building. This was why Bond had spent the last two nights on the roof waiting for Moran to make a move.

It was about 23:00 GMT when I caught some movement on one of the alley cameras behind the vacant building. One figure, no two. Bloody hell, I knew that movement and that coat. Damn it Sherlock you promised to stay out of it!

R looked at me questioningly and 007 chuckled under his breath over the comm. Crap. I'd said that out loud, on live feed even. Hell, I'd even used Sherlock's name. I'd have to edit it out of the mission record. Bond wasn't a problem, he already knew of the relationship, but R might be. I'd have to debrief with her afterword regarding keeping that tidbit of information quiet.

"Holmes and Watson just entered the building. They are coming up the far stairwell." If Watson was with Sherlock then odds were good that he'd tipped off Lestrade as well. I nipped into the NSY servers and looked at the duty rosters and orders then swore under my breath. "You may also have the locals to deal with if anything goes down tonight 007."

007 tapped on his earpiece twice creating a clicking noise to acknowledge. Now that there were others in the building he didn't want to take the slightest chance of being overheard.

I took another look at the cameras and the infrared monitors I had pointed at the vacant building. "Holmes and Watson are setting up on the first floor," I relayed. I wondered why there. Maybe this was Sherlock's concession to his promise to stay out of it. I checked the outlying cameras. Lestrade's NSY group were not visible on the street. They didn't have radios on so I couldn't locate them from that. Where the heck had they stashed themselves?

"R you boyfriend is leading the charge for the locals. Ping his mobile. I want to know where he is."

"In progress," she said typing into one of the computers.

R's ping off Lestrade's cell went through quickly. Ah ha! There they were. Inside the lobby of an apartment complex down the street. I relayed the location to Bond. We settled down again to wait some more.

We didn't have to wait long, a little more than half an hour. A large man carrying what looked like a guitar case ambled down the street then slipped into the alley behind the vacant building. I got a good side shot with one of the cameras. It was Moran.

"Objective entering the building. South stairwell." I continued to watch with the specialized cameras. "Stairwell, 1st floor landing, 2nd floor, over to the windows. He's casing for the best angle.

A double click indicated Bond had heard and understood.

"He's going to set up in the 4th window from the corner. Holmes and Watson are moving up the far stairwell."

Double click.

I watched as Moran set up and 007 carefully maneuvered so that he'd be able to flip off the top of the building and directly into the window Moran was using as a rifle rest. Like all good snipers Moran took his time setting up the shot.

"He's ready. Holmes & Watson are holding just below the landing in the stairwell."

Another double click was Bond's reply

I didn't hear the shot through Bond's earpiece. Silenced rifle. Clever. The cameras caught the muzzle flash and I heard the crash of glass from the equipment in 221B. R made sure the secondary projection loop had been activated by the breach in the integrity of the window. It worked seamlessly. She gave me a thumbs up.

A couple of heartbeats later Bond swung off the roof and in through the window. He missed Moran's head by inches. Through his radio I could hear the fight. At the same time the NSY group was moving on the building. Sound of punches, kicks, Bond's breathing. The fight was vicious. Moran was well trained and physically a match for 007. Suddenly a grunt and a sharp intake of breath. I could tell Bond had been slightly hurt by the cadence of his breathing. The NSY group had hit the bottom of the stairs. Bond and Moran were still at it. A thump. They were on the floor. Another grunt, major pain this time, from Bond then the distinctive crack of a bones breaking. Moran was still, neck broken. Bond rolled up to one knee. It was over.

"007 report!"

"Stop! Police!" the shout came in clearly over the com link.

"Objective eliminated."

"What's your damage?" I asked.

"Put your arms out slowly and lay down on the floor" came a second shout. I identified the voice as Lestrade's.

"Actually I'd rather not," said Bond in a conversational tone. He was clearly addressing the NSY group but answering my question as well at the same time. "I happen to have a rather large knife stuck through my left forearm."

Of course that was exactly the moment Sherlock stuck his nose into the entire business by standing up in the stairwell and hailing Lestrade. One day he was going to get shot by accident when he did that.

"Locate Tanner and have him vouch for Bond with NSY," I instructed R. "I don't want 007 detained especially if he's injured."

R scoffed, "Like you are going to get him to go to medical even if he is banged up and needs to." Another trait shared by most of the 00's. Medical was a four letter word to them and a place to be avoided at all costs.

"I'll pull rank and threaten to not give him any toys to play with. That will at least make him check in and get stitched up properly."

My personal mobile went off then. Only a select few have that particular number, all of them important. Good thing I can multitask. I glanced at it.

The text read. Why? MH.

Oh blast! I did NOT need this right now. Mycroft had known Sherlock was alive for the last six months. He'd somehow managed to get a hold of my work with the CCTV cameras. I didn't know if he had an informant in MI6 or if he'd picked it off the thumb drive I'd had Bond give Dr. Watson. I suspected the latter rather than the former. The former would have required hacking into my personal section of the MI6 servers not an easy task even from the inside. There were only a few people in the world who could do that from either the inside or the outside without leaving traces and I knew most of them. None of them would have been able to resist bragging about a feat like that and I'd heard nothing. I didn't know if Mycroft had contacted Sherlock directly but he did text me after he had acquired the information so we were talking again. Sort of.

Need to know. Q. I texted back.

R gave me another strange look as she registered that I was texting. Sherlock was pontificating about how and why Moran had killed Adair. Dr. Watson had co-opted the nearest first aid kit and from the sound of it was treating Bond. I was amazed that none of the NSY people seemed to object or even question what he was doing. I made a hand motion indicating that R should continue to monitor as she linked Tanner to NSY.

Bugger operational security. I have clearance. MH.

You have clearance if I decide you have clearance. Q.

This was an MI6 operation and I wanted Mycroft to be clear that I was not going to tolerate his officious meddling.

More threats? MH

No threat. Promise. Q

Have S come see me when this is done. MH. Followed immediately thereafter by: You too. MH.

That surprised me. Mycroft admitting, abet backhandedly, to sentiment. That alone was worth my trying to get all of us in the same room at the same time to see what he'd do. Hell, he might even apologize. No, the more that I thought about it Mycroft wouldn't do so outright but watching him attempt to do it would be amusing.

Will try. Q

I focused back on the task at hand just in time to hear Watson say to Bond, "There, that should hold it for a bit. Best I can do with the supplies I have and it should allow you to decline treatment from the ambulance." I faintly heard the wail of sirens under his voice as well as Sherlock and Lestrade having an argument. They were using low enough voices so I couldn't make out the subject matter.

Bond grunted, presumably in thanks, but otherwise didn't speak.

"I know you have a medical division," Watson continued softly. "You'll need to get that properly looked at as soon as Sherlock and I can get you get sprung from here." Hmmm. Sherlock was trying to get Lestrade to let Bond go? That was interesting. Meanwhile Watson continued, "Don't give me that look. I mean it. Get it seen to James." A mobile went off somewhere in the background. I glanced at my communication monitoring screen. It was Lestrade's. Tanner had managed to convince NSY brass in record time.

"That sounds suspiciously like an order 007," I chimed in. "Treat it as such." I rarely pull rank on field agents but there was something in Dr. Watson's tone that made me think Bond's injury was more serious than 007 was letting on. "If you don't the next time you go out you are getting toothpicks and a water pistol to work with," I threatened.

"As long as the toothpicks are explosive and the water pistol is full of acid," was Bond's low voiced response.

Watson chuckled softly in the background. He had clearly figured out my side of the conversation from Bond's grumbling.

I couldn't hear Sherlock and Lestrade arguing anymore. The ambulance had pulled up to the front of the building and the siren cut off. Footsteps and Lestrade's voice ordering the two people guarding Bond to go and help the others with the forensic details.

"You are free to go," Lestrade growled at Bond. "Apparently dealing with you is way above my pay grade." The poor guy sounded frustrated. I made a mental note to myself to make sure to bully 007 into writing an incident report that could be shared without a hideous amount of redaction. "John," he continued, "Could you get Sherlock out of here before Anderson takes it into his head to strangle him?"

"Anderson doesn't have the strength to strangle me," Sherlock commented gleefully. "He shouldn't want to either considering you lot are going to get all the credit for solving the Adair murder once you get the ballistics on that rifle. I'm not going to make a statement about it and I suspect that the Commander wasn't even here."

"Correct as always Mr. Holmes," said Bond. I could see in the infrared camera that he had stood up with the intent of walking away. He turned toward the stairwell which was currently unclogged with police and medical personnel.

I could hear the smirk in Sherlock's voice as Bond moved off, "Convey my regards to Q."

Yes Sherlock, I know you are smart. He'd probably spotted Bond's earpiece and concluded that I was on the other end. Sherlock was never one to pass up an opportunity to attempt to yank my chain. It was one of the few ways he showed affection.

As Bond walked away I heard Lestrade ask Watson somewhat rhetorically "Do you know what that was about? Do I want to know what that was about?"

I could barely hear John Watsons reply of "No probably not."


Author's Note: Chapter title derived from All's Well that End's Well, Act IV, Scene 4.

Gentle Readers, this is the last full sized chapter. Only the Epilogue to go. My oh my. This turned out to be quite a bit more than I expected when I first started. If you remove the heading information and author's notes I've written over 25K words on this thing. That's equivalent to a Novella if you think that way. This is completely amazing to me because the point of the whole exercise in the first place was to get certain images out of my head.

For those who have asked, I have started working on a sequel. It's darker than this one especially for Q.

Let me know what you liked, disliked, or would have liked to hear more of. Review or lob me a PM if you are shy.