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G did call in Sherlock Holmes and after the first case, he found himself abducted on the way to Tesco in a black sedan. If he thought his meeting with Sherlock was bad, it had nothing on the meeting with his archenemy that he knew practically nothing about. What he did know was that there was no way in hell he was going to accept the smarmy bastard’s money after subtly threatening him and shoving his confidential information in his face. It wasn’t because of a sudden loyalty to Sherlock Holmes either. It was the mere principle of the matter and taking bribes, no matter how prettily worded, was a dangerous, slippery slope that he wasn’t going to go near with a ten foot pole.
He left and though he remained wary, quickly pushed this archenemy out of his mind and instead focused on the reason of his abduction in the first place. The fact he had no information to go on to actually find out who the bastard was only increased his annoyance.
Sherlock Holmes was just as difficult to manage as he thought and there were times that he just wanted to throttle the man. G needed him however and desperate times called for desperate measures but then again, he knew that Sherlock needed him as well, needed him to bring him cases to alleviate his boredom. At least G managed to stop him from coming onto crime scenes completely high and still manage to solve the case in two seconds flat before insulting him with his wide range of vocabulary and disappearing again. John Watson’s arrival was a godsend that couldn’t have come soon enough and G knew he wasn’t the only officer who thought that. Sherlock was just as insulting and snarky as ever but at least now he actually took the time to explain instead of dashing in and out, barely giving G any time to write his deductions down. The lack of his skull when he showed up was always a plus as well.
Six years of frustrated tolerance and then one year spent in the company of John actually made G somewhat consider Sherlock Holmes as a friend, or as close to it as you can get with someone like him. So maybe punching him in the face after receiving news that he wasn’t actually dead probably wasn’t the best way of welcoming Sherlock home but considering what had happened, he thought himself quite reasonable. It wasn’t like he broke his nose. No, that honour belonged to John.
The only thing he did regret was being kidnapped. Again. G was pleased with himself when he recognised the smarmy bastard and even if he did forget his face, there was no way in hell to forget that bloody umbrella that he twirled around like Mary Poppins. He was less pleased when he blurted that fact out.
“While I commend your memory Detective Inspector Lestrade and nicknaming skills, my name is Mycroft Holmes.”
“You’re Sherlock’s brother?” G couldn’t really see it. Sherlock was all hard, sharp angles and long limbs not to mention ridiculously thin. This man…was not.
“Your talent of stating the obvious is astounding.”
Okay, so maybe G could see the familial resemblance. The fact that Sherlock Holmes had a brother crashed into him and he only just managed to withhold a groan. If the rumours according to John about these two were true…Dear lord, how had London survived without being burnt down to the ground? Then, “Wait a second, did you know Sherlock was alive all this time?”
Mycroft gave him a Look as if he had just asked the most idiotic question ever and maybe he had. Moving on then. “So why did you abduct me off the street?”
“Abduct? Oh no. I was just passing by when I saw you leave Baker St and as Sherlock’s older brother, I thought it was my duty to give my little brother’s friend a ride home. Sherlock would be insufferable if something were to happen to you only a few hours after he returned home.” Mycroft gave a sigh. “He does like to resort to theatrics when he throws a tantrum.”
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