Summary:
Conclusion of the story ! Enjoy !
The story is not beta'ed so there may be some errors...
Jack grimaced at the seriously angry umbrella guy.
"Well, evening to you too, sunshine ! It's always a pleasure to see your smiling face !" Mycroft acted as if Harkness was not even there and went directly to Sherlock and John. "How did you two got stuck up with 'this lot' ?" The two last words were spat like filth. "Do you have any idea about WHO they are ?"
That last question was almost shouted accusingly at Sherlock who barely moved. John figured that this outburst was entirely surprising to him. For the first time ever, Mycroft was showing something different from his usual snobby judgement and polite indifference. He was seriously pissed off and not in a controlled, resigned way, like during "the Scandal in Belgravia Case". No, that was for real.
"Mycroft, I was on a case, about to make an arrest and John and I fell upon those two." Sherlock looked slightly offended, perhaps annoyed by Mycroft's unfair anger, "And, yes, I have only a faint idea of what is going on or who they are." he paused to think quickly, "I am positive that they are agents belonging to some secret service rival to yours and overstepping your current boundaries. But as for the rest..." Sherlock raised his hands in annoyance "They pretend that my suspect is a... a..." Sherlock hesitated, the enormity of it finally dawning on him. Mycroft raised a brow, which is an encouraging sign for him "...an alien." he concluded quite awkwardly.
To John's amazement, Mycroft simply smiled in a bitter way.
"Did they, now..." he murmured.
"Brother dear," he continued in a very firm voice. " You are not to be bothered with such... trivia any more." Before Sherlock could answer anything, Mycroft turned to Jack Harkness as if looking upon a piece of dirt.
"As for you, take your plaything with you..." Ianto Jones gave a jump and Harkness raised a hand to prevent him from doing something stupid "...and do not, EVER, show yourself in the vicinity of my brother."
The tone was final. But Jack Harkness made a lopsided smile John didn't like at all...
"Keeper of your precious little bro's chastity, heh ? Or did you take care of it yourself ?"
That last remark was a mistake. A HUGE one. What came afterwards seemed impossible in John's eyes, making him doubt the reality of the scene for months. Like a lightning, in nanoseconds, Mycroft turned around and darted his right fist upon Jack Harkness's face so brutally that John saw only a blur. Jack landed on 221B' s door with a loud thud then glided pitifully on the staircase, holding his jaw and looking aghast. In the same time, an infuriated Ianto Jones was about to hit Mycroft back but Sherlock, guessing his moves, manhandled him. Mycroft was in for a second blow, which was extraordinary, knowing how he hated "legwork" or "fieldwork", as he used to say, and, in general, anything that looked like actual action.
Things could have ended tremendously badly but, unexpectedly, in came Mrs. Hudson, in her cotton nightgown and neat curlers, to save the day. She looked mad too, which also seemed incredible (so was her nightly apparel but it was a day full of surprises, thought John) and whispered angrily to "keep quiet, boys ! The neighbours !" and ordered the rowdy lot to "get inside this instant !" which they quietly obeyed. John was dismayed, Ianto was clearly in a murderous mood, Mycroft's expression was stony and menacing, his eyes on a meek Jack Harkness and Sherlock looked as lost as John. It was only when everyone was seated in the flat's salon and supplied with tea and biscuits and a stern lecture from Mrs. Hudson (which, to complete the list of tonight's unusual events, no one stopped), that John noticed that the bruise on Jack's jaw and the deep cut on his lips were decreasing and healing at an abnormal speed. But he kept this little gem to himself.
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Mrs. Hudson acted with an unusual authority, holding the grumbling party in check. She didn't even waver when Captain Jackass tried flirting with her. John thought that Harkness was a serious nymphomaniac to try each and everyone like that (in front of his own boyfriend to boot...). It made John smirk to define the handsome military guy as "nympho". Served him right.
Once Mrs. Hudson was out for more tea, the battle went again.
