Three Weddings Part 1

Chapter 37

A/N:That strange, squeee-ing noise you heard from Norfolk this morning? That was me reading your reviews from yesterday! Oh you darlings - what am I going to do without you? I feel really sad to have to leave this, but my brain needs a break in order to bring you more cliffies, for which I am truly sorry.

Incidentally, Mirith - Mummy and the footman? May have to use that one, if you don't mind? Heheheh! After all, why should Mycroft be the only one with unbridled lust int he family. But then, she may actually be dead, I couldn't possibly comment... Also, aranel2712- The reason you always get the end is because I never publish a WiP. Everything is always finished (except for chapters I need to add in response to feedback) before it goes up, so I can always ensure a) a reasonable level of quality, and b) an ending (in this case, of sorts, but nevermind).

Thank you to everyone for sticking with me for this marathon. You are amazing. And not least for writing nearly 300 reviews, which is a record for me, and I think is an achievement in itself. Yay for you! Thanks, peeps.

So, back to work. I couldn't leave you like that, could I? Not knowing? No. I'm not that mean. So here it is, the bonus chapter I was not going to divulge, the bridge between Part 1 and Part 2.

He found them in the gun room, Sherlock and Mycroft in silence, tooling up. It was a room that gave John the creeps, lined with evil looking weapons behind glass now clouded with plaster dust from the blast. The roof beams were creaking, but they had been assured that this wing of the house was safe. For the moment at least.

'What's this?'

'Preparations,' Sherlock said. He was strapping a complicated holster onto Mycroft's solid body. It allowed several weapons to be secreted about his person.

'You're not going after him alone,' John told him.

'No, I'm not, Mycroft's coming too.'

'Oh, come off it, Sherlock!'

'With all due respect, John, this is a decision for us, not you.' Mycroft's body jerked as his little brother tugged at the straps.

'Fuck that! Of course it is! I'm a soldier, apart from anything else! I'm coming with you!'

'Let us do what we need to do,' Mycroft said, fixing him with a cold look. 'What we're best at.'

'He's right, John.' Greg's voice came from the doorway. His face was ashen, his eyes lightless. 'You don't send a commando in to do reconnaissance. You send them in for the battle at the end. That's what you're for.'

'With all due respect, Greg, I'm trained to kill. I'm more use to them out there, where I can protect them.'

'We don't need protecting,' Mycroft said, checking the clip on an automatic pistol before tucking it into the leather pocket under his arm. 'I am one of the few men outside of the armed forces whom the Government sanctions with a license to kill, and I assure you that my hit rate is a significant multiple of even your impressive score.'

'He's not kidding,' Greg added.

'I can't believe you're willing to let them go off and do this,' John cried, turning back to Greg. 'This man's a maniac, God knows what he'll have waiting for them out there!'

'All the more reason not to use a sledgehammer to crack a nut,' Sherlock observed. His own body was trussed into a Kevlar vest which had a significant number of bladed weapons neatly stowed in it. He tucked away the last, his favourite hunting knife, the one that normally pinned the post the mantlepiece at the flat. 'He'll be expecting us to throw everything we have at him. He wants a war, John. We won't give him that.'

'Twenty-four hours,' Mycroft said, pulling his jacket on over his arsenal. 'He already has a two hour start on us, but I doubt that with my hunting skills and Sherlock's analysis it will take us any longer than twenty-four hours to run him to ground. I'll call in a hit team at that point. I can arrange for you to be part of the forward party if you like?'

'I wouldn't miss it for the world,' John growled.

Mycroft sidled over to his new husband, standing close, hands soft on Greg's cheeks. The inspector looked up into his eyes.

'Where are the kids?'

Greg gave him a wan smile. 'Fingers took them.'

'Good, they'll be safe with him. He has a network of safe houses not known to my organisation.'

'Anthea's already at the Comms centre.'

'Stay with her. I'll patch you into every communication, so you know what's happening.' He stroked his love's face. 'I'm so sorry.'

'Stay safe,' Greg whispered. 'Need that nose in one piece.'

Mycroft smiled tenderly and kissed him.

'In the car in five minutes, Sherlock,' Mycroft said, and they were gone.

John watched Sherlock checking his pistols, two automatics and a machine. When he was finished, John snatched them up and checked them himself.

'Perfectionist,' Sherlock frowned.

'Excuse me, but you're pretty slap-dash when it comes to firearms, and I need to be sure.'

Sherlock made a circuit around the table and pulled John into his arms.

'I need to do this,' he said.

'I know. But you don't need to do it alone,' John told him.

'We'll move faster this way. You know what we're like, practically read each other's minds.'

'I don't like it.'

'I know. But I promise it will be alright.'

'Come back to me.'

'I will.'

'I don't think I can lose you again.'

'You won't.'

Sherlock stared into John's eyes as if his whole soul was open for the taking.

'I'm yours, remember?'

'Yes.'

'She was a bitch, John, but she was still my mother.'

John nodded. 'Don't take any risks.'

'I'll leave that to Mycroft.'

A question was still bubbling inside Johns' head. It had been seeing Sherlock with a knife in his hand that prompted it.

'What did he mean about Marseilles, Sherlock? Moran, I mean? In the alley?'

Sherlock's eyes darkened a little. 'Ask Baxter for the file,' he said. 'We'll talk about it when this is over.'

John nodded, and Sherlock kissed him, softly.

'Twenty-four hours,' he whispered as they hugged. 'Or less.'

John gazed up into his eyes. 'Make it less.'

COMING SOON: PART TWO:

The Pursuit, the Attack and the Third Wedding.

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