I have received such wonderful feedback from this one-shot and I am so grateful for all the wonderful support. A guest reviewer wondered if I could do another part where I showed the Yard's reaction and since I was in a good mood I decided to do it.

I apologize for any mistakes and I hope you all enjoy.

Part 2

"Sherlock has a soul mate?" Greg Lestrade asked. "Since when?"

Mycroft barely raised his gaze from his phone as he answered his soul mate. "As of Tuesday."

Having known Sherlock for three years he had wondered about the younger Holmes brother. The first time he had met Sherlock he had been in Mycroft's body during their switch.

Three Years Ago

"Another case, Mycroft? How exceptionally dull. I have much better things to do," the new baritone voice drawled as he looked everywhere but him.

Lestrade blinked and immediately took in the new surroundings. The room was dark, illuminated only by the few lamps that were on and the open fireplace where flames were licking at the sides. Lestrade had no idea where he was but the place was far too elegant for any of the circles he passed through and definitely wasn't the New Scotland Yard. He turned his attention back to the man who spoke, body going tense incase he was in any danger.

"Sherlock?" he said, frowning.

Sherlock turned back to him and raised an eyebrow. His blue eyes darted swiftly over whosever body he was in before an amused smirk graced his lips. "Well, it would seem Mycroft was wrong after all."

"Mycroft?" Greg asked.

Sherlock let out a deep chuckle, one that Lestrade had never heard before – or one he thought he would never here. Sherlock continually crashed his crime scene and Lestrade had no way to get rid of him. He would never admit that he couldn't because Sherlock managed to do what his team couldn't - solve a lot of cases.

"Judging by the look on your face we are acquainted," Sherlock said. "You're not a criminal other wise you would have attacked me by now. So that leaves in you in law enforcement." Sherlock eyes continued to rake over him. "You have yet to insult me so that means you somewhat tolerate me." He flashed a smile. "Hello, Lestrade."

The DI shook his (or Mycroft's) head with amazement and disbelief. Only Sherlock could deduce who he was in another man's body. Before he could say anything something buzzed in the pocket of the jacket Mycroft was wearing.

"That will be Mycroft," Sherlock said. "Best to answer it."

Lestrade fished out the phone and took the call.

"Hello, Greg Lestrade," his own voice spoke through the phone. "If Sherlock hasn't already told you my name is Mycroft Holmes."

"Holmes," Lestrade spluttered. "You mean you're brothers."

"Yes. I've already phone for my driver to pick me up and bring me to you so please be patient," Mycroft said. "I won't be long. Oh and Lestrade, don't let Sherlock leave. We still have much to discuss." The phone clicked off and Lestrade stared at it.

"Mycroft wants you to stay here until her arrives," Lestrade finally spoke, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Oh God, I can already see how this going to go. Mycroft will be insufferable." With a graceful spin Sherlock sat himself down on the chair opposite him.

"I'm not going to survive this, am I?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock smirked at him. "Don't worry, Detective Inspector, your smarter than most of the idiots in the world. You'll do just fine."

Lestrade was sure that Sherlock had never given a compliment before so he decided to take it as one and ran a hand over his face.

Present Day

Lestrade shook his head. The rest of their meeting had been bizarre to say the least, watching himself try and goad Sherlock into taking a case that was even above Lestrade access level. Finally the two had switched back to their own bodies and Sherlock had vanished allowing the two to finally meet properly.

"Tuesday," Lestrade said. That had been two days ago. "Who is it?"

"John Watson," Mycroft said, finally looking up from his phone. He placed it smoothly back into his pocket. "An army doctor recently returned from Afghanistan."

Lestrade grinned. "So Sherlock actually had the whole experience?"

Mycroft rose an eyebrow as Lestrade giddy expression. "Yes. Doctor Watson was in the process of removing a bullet from his shoulder."

"Christ!" Lestrade exclaimed. "You didn't happen to find any video of this did you?"

Mycroft's lips quirked. 'Unfortunately not."

"Damn," Lestrade muttered. "So this John, is he home yet?"

"He arrived this morning," Mycroft said. "Sherlock is taking him back to Bakers Street as we speak."

Lestrade nodded. "I can already tell you've had a full background check on him. So, what's he like?"

"Why spoil the surprise," Mycroft smiled at his soul mate. "I'm sure you'll see soon enough. Sherlock's mind won't be distracted for long. He'll need a case soon but he'll struggle to leave John behind. You know how it felt the first time."

Lestrade did remember. It had been hard to get back to work. Mycroft was of course needed back straightaway but that didn't stop him from keeping every eye in London on him. He still hadn't quite gotten used to seeing a sleek black car every now and then trailing him.

Phone chiming, Lestrade reached into his pocket and opened the text. It was from Donovan.

"I might have a case for him soon," Lestrade said. He showed the phone to Mycroft. "Another suicide."

"Murder," Mycroft said.

Lestrade rolled his eyes. "You and Sherlock are similar in more ways than you believe."

Mycroft grunted.

"Hello, freak," Sally Donovan greeted meanly as she saw Sherlock approach the police tape that blocked off the area.

"I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade," Sherlock said.

John looked at Sherlock with surprise. Anger had welled up in him more quickly than ever before and it was all because Sally had called his soul mate a freak. Sherlock Holmes was anything but. With the few days they had spent getting to know one another without the interruptions of the world John had learned just how brilliant Sherlock really was.

"Why?" Donovan asked.

"I was invited," Sherlock said.

"Why?"

"I think he wants me to take a look," Sherlock said sarcastically.

"Well, you know what I think, don't you? " Donovan said.

Sherlock lifted the police tape that blocked off the area and ducked underneath. "Always, Sally." He breathed deeply through his nose. "I even know you didn't make it home last night."

"I don't ..." She trailed off as she saw John for the first time. "Er, who's this?"

"Colleague of mine, Doctor Watson," Sherlock said. He turned to John, giving him a meaningful look. "Doctor Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan." He purposely made his voice drip with sarcasm. "Old friend."

"A colleague? How do you get a colleague?!" Donovan sneered. She turned to John and pointed at Sherlock. "What, did he follow you home?"

"No, he didn't," John snapped.

"Come along, John," Sherlock said pointedly. He lifted the tape for John to duck under which he did.

"Freak's here. Bringing him in," Donovan said into her radio.

John opened his mouth to snap at her when Sherlock reached out and gave his hand a quick squeeze. John looked at his soul mate who gave the smallest shake of his head. John gritted his teeth but didn't say anything.

As the approached the front gate a man came out and blocked their way.

"Ah, Anderson. Here we are again," Sherlock said.

"It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?" Anderson said, looking at Sherlock with distain.

Sherlock took a deep breath through his nose and almost smiled. "Quite clear. And is your soul mate away for long?"

"Oh, don't pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you that," Anderson snapped.

"Your deodorant told me that," Sherlock said. He couldn't help himself. Mostly he was showing off for John, but he was also trying to show him that what these two said didn't matter.

"My deodorant?"

Sherlock shot him a quirky grin. "It's for men."

"Well, of course it's for men! I'm wearing it!"

Sherlock smirked. "So's Sergeant Donovan." As Anderson looked around to Donovan in shock Sherlock sniffed pointedly. "Ooh, and I think it just vaporised. May I go in?"

Anderson whipped around to face Sherlock, pointing at him angrily. "Now look: whatever you're trying to imply."

"I'm not implying anything," Sherlock said. He headed past the two of them and went to the front door. "I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over. And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees."

"What would you know about an affair, freak," Sally sneered.

"Even though it's not true," Anderson added. "You couldn't understand the complexity of having a soul mate because you'll never have one."

Nobody saw John pull his hand back. Anger overwhelmed him, the need to protect his Sherlock overrode all his other senses and the next thing he knew he was standing over Anderson's bleeding body.

"Don't insult my soul mate again and imply that he doesn't understand the workings of having one," John said, his voice an angry calm.

"Soul mate," Anderson spluttered through his bleeding nose. "You're his soul mate?"

"Yes. Problem?" John asked.

"Oh Christ," Lestrade groaned as he stood in the doorway watching the scene before him. He rubbed a hand across his face and sighed. He caught the expression on Sherlock's face. It was a look he had never seen before on the man. He was a mixture of surprise and delight that John had defended him.

"John," Sherlock said.

The army doctor looked to Sherlock, searching his face. With a nod he stepped away from Anderson and dropped his head, suddenly looking embarrassed.

"Shall we?" Sherlock asked, looking at Lestrade but the DI knew the question wasn't directed at him.

As the three of them walked into the old abandoned building Lestrade decided he was going to kill Mycroft later. As he started to pull on his blue suit he saw Sherlock take John's hand and examine the knuckles.

"I'm fine," John said. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," Sherlock said quickly. "What you did was….ummm…good."

Lestrade smiled to himself. He made a note to have his phone at the ready to record these two.

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