John was sitting in the Mycroft's extravagant office. Sherlock had been ignoring Mycroft's texts for all day. John had to admit that with a woman strapped with explosives seemed more immediate than Mycroft's missing defense plans. But when Mycroft began texting John, John had attempted to reason with Sherlock, give it at least some consideration. Sherlock had been sitting at their kitchen table when John reminded him the Mycroft had said it was a matter of "national security." John was worried that Sherlock would ignore this case completely just to spite his big brother.

But Sherlock had responded by telling John that he wasn't ignoring Mycroft. He was, in fact, putting his "best man" on the case. John had nodded and smiled at that, glad that he had possibly gotten through to the impossible detective. But then his brows had furrowed and he regretted having to ask who Sherlock's best man was.

That's how John ended up in Mycroft's extravagant office. John had decided to go into meet the elder Holmes in his best tan suit jacket and trousers and a white button-down. He'd even completed the look with a red tie that he'd knicked from Sherlock's closet. He wanted to look his most professional, and he was trying very hard not to feel incredibly small in the huge room.

Mycroft entered the office with a sense of annoyance, but greeted John warmly nevertheless. John had stood up to shake his hand, and after the brief shake, Mycroft motioned for him to sit back down. Pleasantries were all but skipped after that. "I was hoping to see my brother, what is he up to?" Mycroft's voice was always soft and subdued, it had an immediate effect of intimidating most people. John however wasn't one of those people.

"He's busy. Investigating away. Just sent me to collect more information." Not a complete lie.

"How is he?" Mycroft always pushed this subject, but John never really understood why, after all the man made use of every single security camera in London to watch over Sherlock.

"He's uh...He's fine." John wanted to change the subject, he never knew just what he should say to Mycroft that wouldn't upset Sherlock. "Anything else you can tell me about the missing plans?"

Mycroft leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Like Sherlock, he was rarely seen out of a suit and today was no exception. It was one of his blue-grey suits, with a pale blue button-down underneath. He wore black shoes, that had been shined to the point that one could see their own reflection in them, and a navy blue tie. He was scanning John's features as he leaned back, and John was aware of the trademark feeling of being dissected that one can only receive from a Holmes.

Mycroft gave John some more information about the case, and John scratched all of it down furiously into a pocket notebook. When Mycroft fell silent, John looked up. "Is that all?" he asked.

"I was hoping Sherlock could give us more information." Mycroft fixed John with an expression of boredom. Runs in the family.

"Right. Okay, thanks." John stood up, feeling a stress-induced pang in his shoulder.

"Really John," Mycroft said, making John turn back to face him again. "How is he? I do worry about him so."

John gave a slight smile, thinking about how much the two pretended to despise each other, yet they were both brothers and they both cared about each other. "Really Mycroft, he's fine. Just working on investigating. You know how he gets when he's got a case."

"Ah yes, working a case always puts him a bit on edge. He should be focusing on this case however." Of course Mycroft had known that Sherlock wasn't even trying to work on the case of the missing defense plans.

John looked down sheepishly at his shoes. He didn't want to receive a scolding for lying to Mycroft, even though John stood behind his thoughts that he hadn't really lied, he'd only said that Sherlock was investigating and that was true.

"I'm know you didn't deceive me, but I also know you didn't tell me the whole truth. Believe it or not however, this is not my main concern. Truth be told, I am somewhat pleased that you've come here alone." John looked up at Mycroft, confusion all over his features. "How are things going in your...relationship?" Mycroft said the last word slowly, almost as if it was sharp on his tongue.

Of course the bloody bastard knows, John thought. He rolled his eyes thinking of how prying both brother's could be. But then some of the color drained from his face as he started to wonder just how many cameras Mycroft had at his disposal, and where they were located. Sherlock wouldn't stand for having any cameras in the flat...would he.

"No John, I do not have any secret cameras hidden inside your flat. I'm not that keen to find out what Sherlock does in the privacy of his own home. Especially not with you there." Mycroft shifted uncomfortably, but decided it best just to push on. "Sherlock did ask for the service of one of my vehicles if you recall. It wasn't difficult to extrapolate that you two were on a...romantic outing from the locations he gave the driver."

"Well um..yeah we have gone out...a few times now actually." John was gripping the back of the chair that he'd previously been sitting in, his shoulder burning with pain. "Why do you ask?"

"I told you. I worry about him."

"What? You're worried about us? About us being...together?" John was irritated, but he had to admit that he was also slightly hurt at the thought that Mycroft didn't approve of their relationship.

"No, not at all. I just worry about him in general, although this is mostly new territory for him John. Be patient with him." John's mouth was probably open, but he didn't care. Mycroft was asking John not to hurt Sherlock. "You're good for him John, he may not realize it himself, but trust me, you are. I don't want him getting hurt."

"I...Mycroft you know I wouldn't hurt him."

"Yes, but this is new territory for you as well, I don't want you to decide that this should be just a...fling."

John blinked rapidly a few times. But then he actually let out a genuine chuckle. This conversation, though extremely tense, was quite possibly the most unexpected one he'd ever had. Mycroft scrutinized him, so John wiped his face, stopped his laughter, and responded, "Trust me Mycroft, this isn't a fling. I could much more easily find a less obnoxious person to take to bed if that's all I was interested in. Sherlock is my best friend, and recently I've realized that I...care for him more than anyone else. I would never intentionally hurt him."

If Mycroft was pleased with this answer, he really didn't give much indication. He simply nodded at John, same polite smile on his face.

John thought about the conversation he'd had with Mycroft while he sat in the cab. Initially he'd told the driver to head to Baker Street, but a text from Sherlock asking him to come to NSY caused John to lean forward and ask the driver to go there instead. Well, Mycroft knows, Mrs. Hudson knows, that's what, half the people Sherlock talks to? I hope he's not upset that Mycroft figured it out. The car pulled up outside of Scotland Yard.

Author's note:

Hi all,

I've got the entire subplot of The Great Game worked out, so now it's just about writing it all down. I chose to write down things that happened in the show to give you all refreshers as well as to flesh it out. I want my story to take place within the timeline of the canon universe, but obviously I have to change a lot in order to convey my plot points. This is ultimately why I decided to include dialogue and scenes from the show. I wanted to add to them, extrapolate on them, and give you all the context of the situations.

If I'm boring you with all the repeating of stuff from the show, please let me know. I don't want it to read like a transcription of the episode.

Thanks to all the wonderful people who have favorited or followed this story, and thanks for sticking with my hectic upload schedule. As usual, I'd ask if you could please please please review. And as always, thanks for reading.

Padfoot333