Chapter 97

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Mycroft refused to give in, even as she continued pestering him, insisting that he let her go. It wasn't until Mycroft was alerted to someone in his office that she was permitted to leave the room, escorted upstairs by Mycroft.

"She has really done her homework. Miss Riley," a voice spoke from the chair in front of Mycroft's desk.

"John?" Lydia exclaimed, immediately recognising the voice. "Oh thank god you're alright, Mycroft told me that the two of you had been arrested! Where's Sherlock? Is he safe?"

John shook his head, "I dunno, he went off, claiming he had something he had to go do alone."

"And you let him! Christ, John, how could you be so stupid? Moriarty's out there trying to ruin him and he's acting as though something terrible's going to happen, which it probably is, and you let him wander off somewhere by himself!"

"Well, I didn't have much of a choice, you know how he gets. Lydia, I'm worried about him too, that's why I'm here," John assured her, glancing over at Mycroft, who stood silently beside his desk. He waved the papers he was holding, "there's things in here that only someone close to Sherlock could know."

"Ah," Mycroft replied, suddenly understanding why John had broken into his office.

"Have you seen your brother's address book lately? Three names: yours, mine, and Lydia's. And Moriarty didn't get this stuff from me or Lydia."

"John," Mycroft interrupted, trying to ignore how Lydia's eyes angrily bore into his skull.

But John didn't pay him any attention, "so how does it work, then? Your relationship? You go out for a coffee now and then, eh? You and Jim? Your own brother, and you blabbed about his entire life to this maniac."

"I never intended- I never dreamt-"

"This," John interrupted, rifling through the pages once again. "This is what you were trying to tell me, isn't it? 'Watch his back, because I've made a mistake.'" John paused and Lydia took the papers from his hand, skimming through the information that Moriarty had obtained. "How'd you meet him?"

Mycroft began to try to explain why he had sold out his brother, explaining how desperate he was to crack Moriarty. The only way that the criminal mastermind would talk was in exchange for information, information that bit by bit created the story now sitting in Lydia's hands.

John finally rose from his seat, no longer able to stay in Mycroft's presence any longer. As he stood, Mycroft looked up at him, "John, I'm sorry."

"Oh please," John scoffed, turning from him.

"Tell him would you," he added, even though John was no longer listening as he left the room, slamming the door behind him. So Mycroft turned to his only other hope, "Lydia, please."

She shook her head, "I can't believe you, Mycroft. You pretend to be this genius, that you are legions above the rest of the world in your intelligence, above your brother. But Sherlock would never have been so stupid as to do this to you. If he gets hurt, it'll be on your head."

With that she left the room, knowing Mycroft was in no position to keep her there. He had sold out his brother for mere intelligence. For a computer key code that wouldn't even come close to satiating his greed. Now Lydia and John had to help Sherlock clean up this mess before it caused someone to get hurt.

Lydia caught up to John in the hall outside Mycroft's office and he told her that he had just received a text from Sherlock to meet him at St. Barts. After bribing the cabbie to speed, they arrived in record time and Lydia's arms were thrown around her partner's neck as she kissed his cheek.

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