Complications
Mycroft and his best friend are sitting in his office, as per usual for the duo. While Mycroft is at his desk, in his companion's opinion, looking as though he wants her to either violently murder someone (which she would do for him in less than a heartbeat) or as if he is extremely constipated (must be all the cake, she wondered) while she is playing Candy Crush on her phone. He’s also grumbling quite loudly. She drowns out his irritable musings to focus in on her game when the noise stops. She looks over to her friend and immediately answers, “No.” Mycroft whines, “but you haven’t even heard what I’m going to say.” She spares him a glance then replies “I don’t need to. Your face does this scrunching thing when you want me to do something you know I won't like. So, I repeat. No.”
“Oh, but come on,” he sighs frustratedly, “he has someone living with him for Christ’s sake.” She just rolled her eyes. She didn’t need him to say who he was talking about. She already knew he was talking about his baby brother, the infamous Sherlock Holmes. “I just want you to talk to this goldfish and see if my brother is at risk,” he persists. She was probably the only person Mycroft trusted enough to talk openly about caring for his brother or frankly anything with. She smiles at his word choice for the younger Holmes’ new companion, remembering explaining to Mycroft why she had called him that. But then she remembered what Mycroft was asking of her and let out an existential sigh.
“If I were to do that Sherlock would inevitably find out and honestly Mycroft I have no intention of meeting your brother.” She said, still playing on her phone. “And why is that,” Mycroft asked looking only mildly curious. “Other than the fact that he works with the slew of incompetence that is Scotland Yard,” she said with a slight sour look on her face, ”whenever someone encounters him things tend to get… complicated. And at this moment in time I’m not ready for his complications.” She finished her explanation with a small wave of her phone. “If you want to find out the intentions of this new acquaintance then question them yourself,” she said as she put her phone on Mycroft’s table by the couch she was lounging on. “But, my dearest Goldy, I will dig up anything and everything on them. Just for you.” Mycroft gave her a small smile, having grown fond of the once infuriating nickname his best friend gave him. “Thank you little bird. His name is John Watson,” he told her, which brought on another fond smile for her nickname from him. She then sends a quick text to her next in command, Alex, to find the information she needed.
Not even an hour later had she provided the slim file to Mycroft containing every detail of John Watson’s life. “Alright Goldy, I have an appointment with my own kin. So, please don’t get yourself into any sticky situations while I’m gone. I’d hate to have to mutilate someone and ruin my favorite sweater,” she said heading towards the door of Mycroft’s office. “I’ll try my hardest,” he muttered sarcastically as his friend left. ‘Now time to talk to this Watson’ he thought.
A while after the whole ‘John investigation and Sherlock/Mycroft standoff at a crime scene’ thing. Mycroft finds himself in his office with his best friend again but with a much more worrying dilemma on his mind. He’s devoured three pieces of cake in fifteen minutes in his worry, which doesn’t get past his observant friend sitting opposite him on the couch. She, of course deduces his worry and makes a joke to try and alleviate some of his stress. “All that cake is going to make you fat,” she says with a small smile. When she gets no response she starts to worry herself. She’s about to ask if she should have to murder somebody for messing with him when he cuts her off by saying, “you know what he’s doing don’t you.”
She of course knows who he’s talking about without him even needing to say his name. “Yes, I do. We are very close you know. Even closer that the two of us.” She responds to his question tight lipped and with a bit of a warning tone in her voice. “I’m aware… but please if anything were to happen to him… I don’t think I could handle it,” he says not meeting her eyes. Ah, yes we are talking about a different ‘him’ now, she thinks. She also knows that when Mycroft won’t look her in the eye it’s because he doesn’t want her to see his fear. She loves Mycroft almost as much as her own brother. Her whole face softens when she says, “Okay Goldy, I’ll make sure your brother is safe. It’s too late for me to call the whole thing off, if that would even have worked in the first place. But I can guarantee you Sherlock’ll make it out of this alive. He will probably be furious with me if he finds out… so i’ll use some one more dispensable. Just give me a minute to make a few calls.” He nods to her with a look of gratitude and stops purging himself with cake, looking as if he just realized how much treadmill time all that cake is going to cost him. She lets out a small chuckle at her friend then begins her first call.
It’s to Alexander, to clear the area of civilians. She tells him the location then says, “okay get some of the people out before anything happens,” Mycroft gave her a look to which she pulls the phone from her face to whisper to him, “really you’re giving me the bitch face.” The look only intensifies to which she sighs and tells Alex, “I mean all the people.” After she ends that call Mycroft has a victorious little smirk on his face which she really wants to smack off of him, but she doesn’t hit the people she cares about. Ever. So, instead she gives him a small glare to which his smirk grows into a full on grin.
Her second call is to someone she absolutely loathes to speak to, the dispensable part of her plan. When she clicks the contact it’s half a ring before the line is picked up. Before the other person can say anything she quickly says “I need you to do something for me.” Perhaps it’s vindictive to play with the woman’s feelings for her like this but she couldn’t give two shits about Irene Adler. “Anything,” the woman breaths into the other side of the line which practically makes the girl beside Mycroft cringe. This was the absolute last person she wanted to be talking to and Mycroft knew that. He was honestly touched by his friend’s depth of feeling for him. Sentiment can go to hell when it pertains to his best friend. As she ends the call a scowl is on her face and with a curt nod followed by the words, “it’s done” she stands and head towards the door. “Where are you going off to,” Mycroft asks her, concerned for his friend who is still sporting the intense scowl. “I have to go make sure my psychotic brother doesn’t kill Adler,” she answers with a sigh. “I hope you succeed in that endeavor,” Mycroft responds. She looks at him a moment then breaks out in a smile, “that is complete and utter bullshit Mycroft Holmes.” She chuckles at the end and in return he gives her a wide smile. “You’re right,” he says, “I honestly detest her and believe her infatuation with you is bordering on manic.” They share a small laugh for a moment then she turns to the door but stops with her hand on the knob. Mycroft looks on towards her curiously.
“James absolutely has a manic fascination with your brother Goldy. I know you can’t stand to see him hurt, what with that whole bullshit lesson on sentiment and feelings. I also love my brother. I am his heart, even though he would never admit it to anyone. I would gladly die for him. But for you, the only friend I have ever had. I’ll accept some complications,” she says to him with a look in her eyes he can’t place for a moment. He then recognizes it as love. He knows what she’s doing for him. He completely understands why she wouldn’t meet his brother. Sherlock and her are so alike. She already has two people to worry about and care for she didn’t want anymore. She knew if she were to meet Sherlock she would care for him. Mycroft knew this too. He knew the risk his only friend in the world was taking.
“(Y/N) thank you.” He says as he stands and gives her a hug. She knows he means it because a) she has a thing about touching just don’t do it to her or you’ll end up with a shattered arm, and b) he called her by her real first name. No one does that. He’s the only other person save James who knew it. She knows he understands the weight of her words and the situation she’s about to put herself in. “I know you don’t care for people easily (Y/N) but I feel honored to be one of them. I love you.” Both of them grip a little tighter to each other as his words ingrain themselves into her mind. “I know Mycroft. You’re my best friend in the whole world,” she replies.
Mycroft pulls away from her abruptly. “Did you just Han Solo me?” He asks incredulously. She smiles fondly at him then walks out of his office door down the hallway only to throw behind her shoulder, “I knew I shouldn’t have made you watch the Star Wars movies.” Mycroft smiles fondly after her thinking he is truly lucky to have a friend. To have the most dangerous and fiercely loyal friend at his side. To have the Reaper at his side.