I do not own Sherlock, all rights go to the BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I am not making money off this Fan Fiction.

This Fan Fiction assumes that only Sherlock and John have met Mycroft. I have only watched up to 'The Great Game' so I do not know if Mycroft has met any of the other characters yet. This is not a story as such, more like a collection of small stories that all have one thing in common: Mycroft Holmes.

Based: April-Just after 'The Great Game'

How I Met Your Brother

Chapter 1-Sargent Sally Donovan

"Regular Speech."

"Over the phone."

Note.

April 3rd- Day 1

Merry voices filled the air. People scurried along the streets as they chattered happily despite the roaring wind.

One woman, however, was curled into herself like a tortoise. Her black heels clacked on the sidewalk. She wrapped her thin, black coat tightly around herself to stave of the wind. Her curly brown hair whipped against her chocolate coloured face as he hurried home from work.

A sharp ringing from the public telephone box on her left stopped her momentarily. She swiftly moved on, ignoring the sound that had plagued her throughout her entire journey.

The phone stopped ringing as soon as someone reached for it.

The lady rushed onward.

Another impatient phone filled the air with its whingeing and the lady found that her patience had run thin. Angrily she stomped over to the phone and picked up the irritating contraption.

"Hello?" She huffed angrily.

"Sargent Donovan, please look to your left." A mysterious male voice answered.

"Hello, who is this?" The lady demanded heatedly.

"Sargent Donovan, I would very much appreciate it if you looked to your left." The man responded.

"Fine!" 'Sargent Donovan snapped furiously. "But I expect a full explanation!" She turned her head to the left and glared at the imposing building in front of her.

"Very good, do you see the security camera?" Sargent Donovan focused her eyes on the indiscrete lump of white and black. "Well done, now watch." The camera slowly swivelled around until it faced the building it guarded.

"Wh-wha-How!" The Sargent gasped.

"Now look behind you." Another stone building loomed behind her and once again she focused on the security camera perched upon it. "Good, keep watching."

The camera once again turned to face the wall.

"Now look across the street." Another security measure sat on the rock edifice. "I think you know what happens next." The camera turned away from the Sargent just as a sleek, black car pulled up in front of the phone box.

"Get into the car Sargent Donovan."

Donovan did not question the clear order and placed the phone down before moving to the car. A woman with chocolate coloured hair and immaculate make-up opened the door. Sargent Donovan glared at the woman, who wore a spotless business suit and pencil skirt, but slipped into the car without complaint.

The woman joined the Sargent in the car, which was now moving, and immediately began texting on her BlackBerry.

"Where am I going?" Sargent Donovan demanded rudely. "I work for the police you know! Kidnapping is a criminal offence!"

"Yes I know." The woman smirked slightly, her eyes never leaving her phone. "As for where you are going, I am afraid that I have no idea."

"Name?" The Sargent demanded irately. "Occupation? Boss?"

"I'm Anthea, at the moment." The woman's smirk grew wider. "I'm a P.A. and my boss holds a minor position in the British Government."

"Minor?" Donovan snorted. "I doubt it. No 'minor' official could've done that trick with the cameras."

Anthea's smirk was firmly stuck on her face as she texted contentedly.

"This has something to so with the Freak, doesn't it?" Donovan snarled.

Anthea's head suddenly snapped up. "Who?" She asked.

"The Freak, Sherlock Holmes." Donovan shot her a confused look.

"Right." Anthea pursed her lips and furiously typed something onto her phone. The car drew to a halt. "We're here."

Anthea, once again, stepped out of the car and yanked Donovan's door open fiercely. She scowled at the Sargent before a disturbing smirk lit up her face. Anthea gestured for the woman to move forward before taking her position beside the car.

The first thing Sargent Donovan knew was that she had been kidnapped. The second was that she was stuck in a warehouse. The third thing she knew was that her life had taken a turn for the worst.

A chair and a man greeted Sargent Donovan. The chair was black and unremarkable. It had a painted metal frame and a woven cushion. It appeared to be nothing more than a cheap desk chair you could buy in IKEA.

The man, however, was as unique as they come. He had short, straight, raven hair and pale skin. His eyes were a dark, forest green and seemed to penetrate your mind. He wore a black business suit and a blue tie with brown splodges that Donovan could not quite identify. The man was leaning on a black umbrella with crossed feet and a neutral expression.

"Ahh, Sargent Sally Donovan, how nice to meet you at last." The man stated, calmly. "Please take a seat."

'Sargent Sally Donovan' just glared at the man and stayed put, just behind the empty chair. "Who are you? What do you want?" She demanded.

"I am no-one of importance." The man's mouth quirked up at the edges to form a small smile. "All I wish to know is about your relation to one Sherlock Holmes."

Donovan snarled silently before replying. "It seems I'm not going to get a straight answer about you. Am I? As for the Freak? I could hardly even call him a colleague."

The man's smile slipped off his face and his lips became a thin, white line. "Who?" He enquired frostily.

"Sherlock Holmes, the Freak. Who else?" Donovan asked with a note of disgust in her voice.

"I would sincerely advise that you do not call him that whilst in my presence." The man's face never changed and he still glared at Donovan with unwavering intensity. "Now, how many of your co-workers share your views?"

"I'll call him what he is, a Freak. You can't stop me." Donovan smirked cruelly. "Everyone else in the yard agrees, except maybe Lestrade and Dimmock. Lestrade doesn't protest, though."

"Fine, I think we are finished here." The man scowled darkly. "Please be on your way Sargent." Donovan turned to leave, but the man's voice stopped her. "Beware Sargent Donovan; you walk on a fine thread. One day Sherlock Holmes' temper will snap and no-one will be there to catch you."

Donovan's back was still turned when she replied. "So you're saying what I've been saying all along? That one day we will turn up at a crime scene, with a dead body before us, and that Psycho will be the one who put it there?"

Anthea opened the door aggressively and Sargent Donovan slipped in. Anthea joined her in the car, which then started to pull away, and the man was left standing in the abandoned warehouse.

"Yes, actually, and it will be your body lying there."

Mycroft Holmes retrieved a BlackBerry from his one of his jacket pockets. Then he used it to text a set of new instructions to Anthea.

Line Break

Sargent Donovan woke up, fully clothed, on her couch. She shook her head slightly with confusion. She then blinked sleepily and frowned. The last thing she remembered was getting into that car after meeting that strange man in the warehouse.

She considered the possibility that it was a dream and she soon came to the conclusion that it was. She ignored the fact that she could not remember making it home that night and instead ambled into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee.

The kitchen was spotless, just like the rest of her flat, and seemed to gleam slightly. She swiftly made herself a hot beverage and breakfast. After showering, brushing her teeth and changing her clothes Donovan applied her make-up and stepped out of the door.

She frowned in confusion when she could not see her car, the repair services were supposed to have delivered it today.

Donovan quickly walked down the street to where a set of double yellow lines had recently appeared. A silver BMW was perfectly parked on the double yellow lines. A yellow clamp was firmly fastened to the tyre and a small, yellow ticket was slotted innocently in the window.

Donovan grabbed the ticket and unlocked the car. She rooted around in the glove-box for a moment as she tried to find her mobile, which had mysteriously not been on her person that morning.

From the compartment she withdrew her slim, black mobile and a white slip of card. The words on it had obviously been done on a computer. Donovan's curiosity got the better of her and she scanned the card. It read:

Your life hangs in the balance. You started the conflict and you must end it. For your own safety stop your dispute with Sherlock Holmes-M

The wind roared and battered the car. Sargent Donovan stared at the piece of card and wondered just what exactly was going on.

Next Time: Mycroft Holmes Kidnaps Molly Hooper.