Unlikely Pair || Mycroft Holmes x Reader

➾ Chapter Five

Your father continued to be in the papers over the next month, destroying the lives of whomever he could. You almost felt partially responsible for relatively innocent peoples' downfalls at the hands of someone with the same blood, but there was nothing you could do because of Mycroft and because of yourself.

Charles had information on Mycroft, as he did for nearly every person in the United Kingdom and world, including yourself, but he would never dare try to burn you with his tainted fire. You had more on him than anyone, but you couldn't do anything with it because of your friends and boyfriend because the stuff on you wasn't all that bad. They were all in danger if you revealed what you knew, so in a way, Charles did have an even greater edge over you.

"Why didn't you try to build a relationship with him when he asked?" Mycroft had inquired once.

"Because I know who he is and what he is about. I won't let him use my intelligence, talents, or fame for his own advantages no matter what he offers," you told him.

It was short and to-the-point. You hated talking about your father and Mycroft knew that much, so he tended to pick on the subject when you were in good moods because he was still Mycroft and liked to know everything.

It was late in the afternoon when Mycroft received a call on his phone about Sherlock, and it wasn't good. John had been the one phoning and said he found Sherlock in a crack house completely drugged out, took him to get examined by Molly, and would meet Mycroft at Baker Street.

"I'm going to kill him," you growled, absolutely furious.

Mycroft looked at you calmly, but you knew he was just as livid on the inside as you had come to know him so well. He was going to take the situation in portions and tread lightly unless something happened. Mycroft also took the time to get Anderson and another person to test Sherlock's chemistry set in the kitchen for anything illegal.

You and Mycroft made it upstairs where the two were already to work testing the liquids and substances in the kitchen. There was commotion downstairs not minutes later and Sherlock and John were barreling up the staircase.

"What have you found?" Mycroft asked.

"There's nothing to find!" Sherlock insisted, curling up in his chair.

Mycroft sighed and began strolling toward his bedroom as everyone watched the eldest Holmes do what he did best.

"Your bedroom door is shut. You haven't been home all night. So, why would a man who has never closed a door without the direct order from his mother bother to do so on this occassion?" he pondered, gripping the doorknob.

You smirked in triumph at your boyfriend's thinking and you found yourself coming to a conclusion as well, but you wouldn't admit to it aloud for Sherlock's sake and dignity.

"Okay, stop! Just stop!" Sherlock shouted, getting up from the chair. "Point made."

"Jesus, Sherlock," John mumbled.

"This isn't what you think, it's for a case," Sherlock said, approaching Mycroft.

"What case could possibly justify this?" Mycroft questioned skeptically.

"Magnusson. Charles Augustus Magnusson."

You sighed the same time Sherlock's eyes met yours. Mycroft frowned and a dark look overcame his features, then he went to the woman and Anderson who were listening intently from the kitchen.

"That name you think you may have just heard, you were mistaken. If you ever mention hearing that name in this room, in this context, I guarantee you on behalf of the British Security Services that the materials that will be found on your computer hard drives will lead to your immediate incarceration. Don't reply; just look frightened and scuttle," Mycroft said lowly.

Mycroft could be so horrifying, but you found it intriguing and sexy, even in a situation such as that. You weren't too worried for
whatever Sherlock was doing, either, because you assumed your father was an untouchable man.

"Magnusson is not your business," Mycroft warned.

"Oh, you mean he's yours," Sherlock replied.

"He's mine," you spoke up. "As I'm sure you're aware, Charles is my father. I don't care what happens to him, but his secrets are something far too complex for you to uncover."

"So you know," Sherlock deduced.

"Of course." You shrugged a shoulder. "I figured it out myself when I was around a few times."

"But it will only take me once."

"No," Mycroft interjected. "If you go against Magnusson, you'll find yourself an enemy of me."

"Well, I'll give you a notice if I decide to," Sherlock said, walking to the door and opennng it. "In the meantime, it's time for you to leave. Bye bye."

You walked behind Mycroft to the door.

"Unwise, brother mine--"

Sherlock cut Mycroft off by grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back. You acted on instinct and gripped Sherlock's shoulder and basically threw him to the ground as you silently thanked your sensei for great defense skills.

"Pianist with a black belt," you explained at Sherlock's and John's shocked expressions. "We're not here to fight each other; only to agree that we leave things the way they are."

With that, you and Mycroft left the flat to head straight home to discuss Sherlock's ludicrous ideas about Magnusson. You knew what the real vaults were and you knew Sherlock couldn't defeat him, but maybe he would prove you wrong.

"(Y/N)," you heard your name being called from down Baker Street.

You turned and a familiar sinking feeling hit your stomach--one only made by a certain individual. Mycroft realized what was happening and stopped reaching for the door of the car, then put his hand on your lower back.

"Father," you greeted tersely. "What brings you here to Baker Street?"

Magnusson, along with three guards stood before you. He had a sickening smile on his lips and it was one of the most haunting sights you had ever witnessed.

"I need to have a chat with Mr. Sherlock Holmes," he answered. "Oh, Mycroft, how are you? My daughter isn't causing too much trouble, I presume?"

Mycroft swallowed almost nervously. "Of course not."

"Well, we must be going," you said hastily, taking Mycroft's hand almost reflexively for some mental stability, then opening the car door with the other.

"What? No kiss or even a hug for dear old Daddy?" Magnusson asked, feigning offense.

"Only in your dreams," you retorted, sliding in the backseat with Mycroft slamming the car door after he got in too. "This isn't good."

Mycroft sighed. "It never is."