Chapter Text
Mycroft Holmes is a busy man. His attention, such as it is, is always in demand, and so there are often days where, in spite of what his younger brother seems to think, he doesn’t have a chance to sit down from morning until late at night. For this reason, while he normally pays close attention when his faithful assistant - she’s chosen the name Charlotte today - is reciting his schedule for the next couple of days, today his focus has wandered a little from exhaustion and hunger. After all, imperative though it may be that he knows what’s coming well in advance so that he can prepare for it, today he’s just not interested in meetings and dinners and appointments and work, and it’s harder than he expected to remain still.
“You have a meeting scheduled with the prime minister tomorrow morning, and then dinner with Sir Charles to talk about the new trade agreement,” Charlotte concludes, glancing up at him with that wry little smile that means she knows very well he wasn’t listening. It doesn’t really matter: she’ll have e-mailed him all of the details and she’ll be there to make sure he actually shows up on time, but the fact remains that he’s still being rude and he nods at her.
“My apologies for being so distracted,” he says. “I’ve been wondering about my brother.”
“Yes, I’m afraid there’re no new updates.” She doesn’t even need to glance at her mobile to know that. “All of the surveillance we have on them suggests that they remain only friends. During their last meal together, Holmes left midway through to chase down a suspect for a case, and your attempt to encourage them to spend the night in the same bed at that hotel ended in Dr Watson sleeping in a chair and the two of them arguing when Holmes refused to sleep in the bed. Furthermore, Dr Watson went on a date with a fellow doctor from the surgery he works at just last week. A -” she checks her phone, more for show than because she doesn’t know the name “- Doctor Mary Morstan, I believe. She’s an upcoming paediatrician. Would you like us to do something about her, sir?”
That is the question, isn’t it? Mycroft pauses momentarily to think. The thing is, John Watson is good for Sherlock Holmes. Very good. Well, John is a good man, period, exactly the sort of man that any woman would be fortunate to have. And therein lies the problem: it’s only a matter of time before John meets someone who is interested in pursuing a full time relationship and who can put up with Sherlock long enough to coax John away. A future where Sherlock is left on his own all over again, with no faithful companion that he actually likes to keep him out of trouble, is a dismal one. The logical recourse is to encourage a relationship to flourish between the two men.
It’s a pity that Sherlock and John are both so bloody stubborn.
“No,” he says at last. “No, I believe that I will handle this one myself, my dear. Sherlock might begin to wonder if Doctor Morstan loses interest so suddenly after only one date and I’ll never hear the end of it if he figures out that we helped the situation along and prevented him from chasing her away himself. Thank you, you are dismissed.”
Charlotte nods and rises gracefully, walking out of the office. She’ll remain in her own little office until he summons her or something requires her attention. Mycroft is left alone to think more deeply on the matter, though officially he’s working his way through a mountain of paperwork. As long as Sherlock persists in pretending that he doesn’t want John in that way there is a risk that John will become involved with someone else. John is, of course, starting to reach that point in his life where he’ll be looking to settle down, regardless of whether that’s with a woman or his flatmate. He won’t make the first move between them, and at this rate Sherlock won’t bring himself to admit anything until it’s too late. It would be just like his brother to cause a great deal of unnecessary drama just because he can’t admit he’s fallen in love.
In an attempt to avoid this scenario from coming true, Mycroft has implemented many plans with the ultimate goal of getting them to see the error of their ways. But irritatingly enough, none of them seem to be coming to fruition: either deliberately or unknowingly or through some odd combination of both, every plan thus far has been derailed in some way. The time has come for Mycroft to take drastic measures. Nothing motivates his little brother better than a bit of jealousy, Mycroft knows that from experience. Sherlock has always been notoriously possessive and that extends to humans which he considers to be his, such as the detective inspector or the landlady. John is unquestionably a part of that.
One would think that all of those women would be enough to inflame said jealousy but no, Sherlock doesn’t consider them to be enough of a threat to matter. He knows – or believes, at least – that John will never be interested in any of them to the point that he will leave Sherlock. The trick, then, is to bring forth a companion who is considered to be suitable competition, one that has the potential to give John the kind of life that he adores. Better still is a companion who has had a previous grievance with Sherlock, particularly in the matter of jealousy, a companion that will cause an automatic reaction.
Fortunately Mycroft knows just the man.
He begins tidying his desk automatically, locking away the files that can’t be left out and putting the most urgent ones aside to take him with him to work on later, after he’s settled this matter once and for all. He stands up and pulls on his coat, buttoning it absently. He picks up his umbrella and his files and moves towards the door, even though it’s at least three or four hours before he normally leaves the office. That’s alright, though; he has something much more important on the agenda tonight.
Mycroft is going to seduce himself a doctor.