I don't own the characters or places!


When they arrived at Baker Street half an hour after the attack, the three Holmes brothers were already waiting for them. Q was sitting at the kitchen table, his laptop in front of him. Most probably, he was already looking at the pictures James had sent him from the attackers and the strange tattoo they all had on their arms. When he heard them enter, he glanced up briefly and his lips twitched, but then the youngest Holmes already focused on the screen again, lost in his work.

Mycroft was also in the kitchen, leaning in the doorway, his umbrella in his hands. Just the white knuckles on his hand where he gripped the umbrella too tightly showed that the man was nervous. Otherwise, his posture was completely relaxed. Surely a result of years of hiding his true feelings.

Sherlock, however, was pacing through the room restlessly, not even trying to hide his unhappiness with the situation. Only when John stepped into the room after James did the detective finally relax and stormed towards his partner with relief on his face. "Are you alright?" Sherlock demanded to know and looked at John closely, searching for possible injuries.

"I'm fine." John muttered when Sherlock wouldn't stop fussing over him like a concerned mother hen. Despite looking a little annoyed by Sherlock's exaggerated attention, a small smile appeared on John's lips. "We're all fine. We had the situation under control."

"Greg, why is there blood on your lip?" Mycroft asked suddenly and made his was towards the other man. James was still surprised that Mycroft Holmes could show expressions like concern. From all the stories he'd heard about him in the past, he wouldn't have expected it. They called him the Iceman for a reason, after all. But here, in the privacy of this flat, he always let most of his masks fall. It was as if only with them around, he felt secure enough for that.

"It's nothing." Greg shrugged, his fingers wandering to his lip absent-mindedly. "I just didn't move out of the way in time. It'll be healed in a few days." James noticed that there was a storm in Mycroft's eyes, but the oldest Holmes just nodded quietly.

"Who were they?" Sherlock wanted to know. "Did you already find anything?" The last question was directed at Q. Together, they all made their way towards the kitchen where James' boyfriend was still busy with his laptop. When James sat down next to him, Q turned to him with a smile. He reached out to take James' hand, squeezing it. It was Q's way to reassure himself that James was really there, uninjured. He smiled back at him.

"The faces of those men didn't show up in any database we have." Q explained, still holding James' hand. "I also searched a few others next to ours at MI6. FBI, another European one, but nothing." Across the table, John already opened his mouth to ask a question, but Q continued quickly. "The tattoo, however, gave us a clue."

He pressed a button on his keyboard and on the screen appeared a bigger version of the symbol they'd seen on those men's arms. In the first moment, it looked like a simple rose in a circle. But now that the picture was bigger, James noticed that instead of thorns, the rose had small daggers on the stem. And behind the flower, there were mountains in the background, nearly invisible between the rose petals and the circle surrounding it. Back when he'd seen the tattoo on the arms of their attackers, he didn't even notice the background.

"What does this mean?" The others had walked around the table to have a look at the picture as well. When James glanced over his shoulder, he saw that Sherlock was frowning. "It looks ridiculous."

"It's the symbol of an organization, isn't it?" James had seen tattoos like that before far too many times. By now, many groups gave up on them again, those signs making it easier for outsiders, especially the police, to identify the members. But years ago, it still had been normal to mark your body with the organization you belonged to.

Q nodded. "Not a big one, but it appeared in a few records over the past few years. They're calling themselves the Dagger-Roses."

"You can't be serious." Sherlock muttered and rolled his eyes. Next to him, John just quirked an eyebrow incredulously.

"No one uses that name." Q added quickly. "Maybe they also noticed that it's not very scary. But anyway, their history started in Italy and that's where they're most active. But in the past month, they also appeared in records from Mexico City a few times."

"Mexico City?" John repeated. "Why there?"

Q shrugged. "I'll have to look into that some more before I can be sure. The leader's name is Marco Sciarra." He looked around, a silent question if anyone knew that name.

"Never heard of him before." James muttered and the others also shook their heads.

"Why does he want James dead?" Greg sounded confused.

"I don't think it matters." He threw in simply. "Lots of people wanted me dead over the years. Maybe I should visit him. Is he still in Mexico City?" He knew that maybe, he should be more shocked by the fact that someone wanted to kill him. But after years as a Double-Oh, those things lost their menace in many ways.

Q nodded. "Involved in some kind of weapons deal, I assume. Give me some time and I can find out more." James made a mental note to force Q into bed once they returned home. Otherwise, he would sit in front of his laptop all night.

"You'll just go to Mexico City all on your own?" There was concern in John's voice. "I mean, obviously you do. It's your job. But anyway…"

"You won't bring yourself in danger because of me." James threw in sternly. "And besides, I think that M will send me on that mission anyway."

"I'm sure he will." Q agreed. "He already requested a meeting as soon as possible."

"Can we do anything to help? Or is this just for secret agents?" Greg exchanged a short look with John before turning to James and Q.

"You were already hurt today, Greg." Mycroft muttered, disapproval in his voice. Greg glanced at him in surprise and for a few moments, the two men looked at each other silently. Mycroft's stare was so intense that James averted his eyes quickly.

"Let's find out more about the whole situation first." Q suggested. "Then we can see if anything can be done here in London, or if James has to do all the work in Mexico City."

"Sounds like a plan." John ran a hand through his hair and looked at them all. "Do you maybe want to stay for a drink?"

"There's something else you wanted to tell us." Sherlock interrupted him suddenly, eyes narrowed while his gaze wandered from John to James and Greg. "Something that happened before you were attacked. At the bar you visit regularly."

"You met someone." Mycroft added, his eyes now also narrowed. "No, someone approached you."

"Who was it?" The detective asked and for a few moments, the boyfriends and Q just stared at them in silence.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're scary like this?" Q asked into the silence, chuckling nervously. Suddenly, the eyes of his brothers were on him, both narrowed.

"Her name's Mary." John threw in before Sherlock or Mycroft could say anything. "She's a nurse and new in London."

"She approached us because she was interested in John." Greg's words earned him an angry stare from Sherlock.

"She approached you?!" The way he repeated it let it sound like a crime. Which it probably was in Sherlock's eyes.

"I told her I was gay and she seemed pretty understanding." John threw in quickly, placing a hand on Sherlock's arm. Then he told them about the encounter in short words. When he was finished, the Holmes brothers looked thoughtful.

"Interesting that she approached you on the same day there was an attack on James." Q muttered, mistrust on his face.

"It doesn't look like a coincidence." Mycroft agreed. "At least not entirely."

"I don't like her." Sherlock's eyes were still on John. James was sure that he also kept closer to his partner than usual, but if the others noticed it as well, no one dared to mention it. "You should stay out of her way from now on."

"I think it's rather fascinating." James said quietly, meeting Sherlock's furious stare calmly. "Either she was really just interested in John or there was more behind her appearance than we think."

"You mean that maybe, John was just an excuse for her to get closer?" Q raised his eyebrows, but he could already see his mind racing again.

James nodded. "It could be possible."

"But she really looked so into you." Greg said with a look at John. Only when Sherlock stared at him angrily did he look away quickly.

"Maybe we should just wait until next week and see if she shows up again." John suggested. "When she does, we could try to find out more about her."

"I don't like this plan." Sherlock muttered, but next to him, Mycroft nodded.

"If she is not who she claims to be, we need to know more about her and her plans." The oldest Holmes said simply. "I'll tell my people to look into it."

"I'll also see what I can find." Q closed his laptop with a nod. "And now, I think it's time for James and me to leave. It's late and we should get home before anyone else gets the idea to send more killers after him." He said those words lightly, but James knew that it was just an act. Deep inside, Q was more worried than he let on.

Mycroft also made his way towards the door. "My car is waiting outside, we can bring you home as well." He said we as if it was the most normal thing in the world that he drove home with Greg.

They all exchanged good-byes and James followed the others towards the door. He was already on the stairs when he heard John's voice behind him. "Be careful, James."

He looked back over his shoulder and saw his friend standing in the doorway, arms crossed. "I always am."

"No, you're not." John shook his head with a tired smile.

"I'll try." He smiled slightly before he continued to walk downstairs.


John had just closed the door after the others left when suddenly, he was being pushed against it. "Sherlock, what -" He wanted to ask, but then the detective's body was pressed against his own and Sherlock's lips made it impossible to speak. His boyfriend kissed him fiercely and with an urgency that made John gasp against his lips in surprise. He'd expected many things from this evening, like Sherlock complaining about Mary for a while, or maybe trying to figure out why they'd been attacked. But not this. Normally, Sherlock was only this passionate after a case where they'd both risked their lives…

"John." Sherlock muttered when they parted and began to place kisses on his cheek and throat. At the same time, his hands wandered to the buttons of his shirt and began to undo them one by one.

He was so surprised by his sudden actions that John could only bury his hands in Sherlock's curls and close his eyes. "I love you." He whispered when Sherlock placed a hand on his chest, right above his heart.

"I love you too." Sherlock leaned back to smile at him shortly, but then his lips kept exploring John's body. They moved over his shoulder to the newly exposed skin of his chest, deeper and deeper… When his hands were on John's belt, he inhaled sharply.

"Sherlock…" He muttered, but his boyfriend didn't listen. He just undid John's pants, his mouth still moving deeper…

When John's brain turned back online, he found himself still leaning against the door, a grinning Sherlock in front of him. "You're far too good at that." He shook his head with a smile.

"I've had lots of practice." Ignoring his protests, Sherlock began to pull him towards the bedroom. "And I really needed that now. Knowing that someone approached you…" The detective shook his head angrily. "I can't tolerate that, John."

"I told her that I was gay." He emphasized and watched as Sherlock began to undress himself. He was wearing that ridiculous purple shirt again, one from which he knew that it always drove John wild. "You don't have to worry, Sherlock. I love you and only you."

"I know that." Sherlock turned to him again, that purple shirt now open, exposing his perfect chest. "But it bothers me anyway. Don't tell me you can stay completely calm when some client throws herself at me." He was referring to an incident that happened a few weeks ago. A young girl had tried to flirt with Sherlock and in the end even hugged him on a case. John had seen red the moment she stepped into his boyfriend's personal space.

"I can't." He admitted simply and sat down on the bed, getting rid off his already open shirt and pants. "But today, Greg and James were with me. I'm sure they could have scared her away."

"James could. With Lestrade, I'm not so sure." Sherlock's eyes were following him when John leaned back on the bed, now completely naked.

He raised a challenging eyebrow. "Won't you join me?"

Suddenly, Sherlock couldn't take off his clothes fast enough.


"I think Sherlock was more furious about Mary than the attack." James said when they entered their house and Q locked the door behind them.

His boyfriend laughed. "He definitely was. I was surprised that she even dared to approach him. Shouldn't everyone know by now that they're together?"

He nodded. "They even have a fanbase on the internet. John showed it to me some time ago, it's scary."

"The disadvantages of being famous." Q mused while he greeted the cats already waiting for them on the stairs. Then he made his way to the kitchen to check if they still had enough food and water. "But something about that encounter truly seems strange."

"She was far too interested in all of us, not just John." He agreed. "We should try to find out more about her before we meet her again."

"You let it sound as if that's a sure thing." After giving the cats some more food, Q followed James upstairs.

"I have the feeling that she'll show up again." James nodded thoughtfully. "Most probably sooner than we expect."

"I could -" He already knew that Q was about to suggest, so he took his hands gently.

"Go to bed with me. Great idea." He finished his sentence with a smile.

Q rolled his eyes. "That's not what I wanted to say."

"I know. But you've worked enough for today. Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow, you can open the laptop again while I make us breakfast." They both smiled at that, thinking of the same memory. Their first meeting, where Q had claimed that he could do more damage on his laptop sitting in his pajamas and before his first coup of Earl Grey than James could do in a year in the field.

His boyfriend gave in with a sigh. "Fine. But you'll have to explain to M why we don't have any results yet, in case he asks."

"Tomorrow is Saturday. I'm sure M also has a life and takes some time off."

"You don't believe that yourself!" Q muttered and secretly, James had to admit that he was right. Not that he was going to say it out loud. Especially not when Q began to change into his clothes for the night without a fight.

When they were lying in bed ten minutes later, James wrapped his arms around his boyfriend to pull him closer. He always enjoyed the closeness he shared with Q. Before, he never had that with his partners. Not like this, where even silence could feel comfortable and they just enjoyed being together without doing much.

"When I heard about the attack, I was worried." Q whispered when James already thought that he'd fallen asleep.

"Five people couldn't even cause problems if I'd been alone." James whispered soothingly. "They need to get more creative for that."

"But what if they will?" He sounded afraid and turned around in James' arms so they were facing each other. In the dim light of the bedroom, he couldn't make out Q's expression, but the way his partner moved closer told him enough.

James wrapped his arms around Q's waist and placed a kiss on his nose. "I can take care of myself. And we're not alone, remember? We have your scary, crazy brothers and their boyfriends."

"And Moneypenny." Q added quietly.

"Moneypenny as well." He agreed with a nod. "Everything will be alright."

"I can't lose you, James. Not now. Maybe not ever." Q swallowed. "We only had so little time until now."

"We'll have all the time in the world." He let it sound like a promise and maybe, it was. "We dealt with Moriarty. We can also deal with this, whoever they are."

It took a while, but finally, Q relaxed in his arms. "I hope you're right."

"Me too." He closed his eyes when Q placed his head on James' chest, most probably to listen to his heartbeat. James lay awake for a long time, listening to Q's steady breathing.


"Do you want to come inside?" Greg asked hesitantly when the car stopped in front of his house. He'd been inside Mycroft's house a few times by now, but had never invited the other man over to his place. There had never been the right moment.

"I think it would be better if I leave." Mycroft said apologetically. "Tomorrow will be a long day."

"You work too much, Myc." The words were out before he could stop them. Of course Greg knew that Mycroft's job took most of his time and he'd never blamed him for it. But sometimes, he wished that the other man would take care of himself a little more.

A small smile appeared on Mycroft's lips. "The same could be said for you."

"I don't work on weekends that often." He protested, even if he knew that it wasn't true. When they had especially difficult cases and Sherlock didn't have the time to help them, Greg often went to NSY on the weekends.

"You do that less ever since you started asking me for advice." Mycroft's soft chuckle filled the space between them. "Maybe we can meet for coffee or dinner tomorrow."

He smiled, but when the injury on his lip began to sting at that, he gave up the attempt. "I'd like that."

Mycroft's eyes wandered to Greg's lip and his expression darkened. "They will pay for this." He knew that he didn't mean the attack in general.

"I'm fine." Greg protested. "It was my own fault."

"I won't tolerate anyone hurting you." The oldest Holmes emphasized again. "It doesn't matter whose fault it was. You're injured, Greg."

Before he could question himself, he reached out to take Mycroft's hands. "And I said it's fine." He looked at Mycroft seriously. "You can't protect me from everything. I can take care of myself."

"I know that. But…"

"You always want to be there for everyone around, I get it." He said softly. "You're already doing enough, Mycroft. No one could have seen this coming." Or the attack half a year ago, where Moriarty decided to scare Sherlock. The attack you still blame yourself for, even if it had nothing to do with you.

"You being injured is highly distracting." Mycroft muttered after a few moments of hesitation. "The idea that something might happen to you in general makes me feel… uneasy."

"I'm a Detective Inspector at Scotland Yard." He reminded him. "You don't have to worry all the time."

"Your team is a mess."

"Today, I was with James and John. They are definitely good at defending themselves and something happened anyway. Stop worrying, Myc." He squeezed Mycroft's hands once more before he opened the door of the car. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Mycroft nodded. "I'll send a car."

Greg waited for a few more heartbeats, just in case if Mycroft wanted to say anything else. But when he remained quiet, he got out of the car and began to walk down the small path towards his house. Only when he was inside did the black car leave.