Mycroft always had the worst timing, Sherlock thought grumpily. Always.

Big Brother had headed into the kitchen to finish his Very Important Phone Call when a client rang the doorbell. Mycroft was blabbering away with what sounded like someone from the PM's office. As usual, he was circumspect with his words, using code names or alternate terms when discussing discreet matters. It wouldn't have posed an issue, if not for the client Sherlock was currently entertaining.

The well groomed man seated across from Sherlock had introduced himself as David Singleton. He was smooth, suave, and exuded an air of confidence, which fit with his proclaimed status as a CEO of a profitable company. He definitely was that, Sherlock deduced, only he had a little side job that he neglected to mention. Singleton was the head of a minor crime syndicate that dealt with mainly identity theft and money laundering.

He must have been pretty desperate to contact the World's Only Consulting Detective, Sherlock mused. He was looking for a former employee who made off with "vital documents and a large sum of cash". Did he really believe that Sherlock wouldn't find out what sort of documents the man was carrying, or did he think the detective wouldn't care?

"Of course, you'll be handsomely rewarded for your efforts. Though I've heard that you enjoy the challenge of the chase more than the financial remuneration." Singleton laughed smarmily. "Life as a detective must be pretty exciting, huh?" His condescending tone grated on Sherlock's nerves, and he tried hard to not let his expression give anything away.

The criminal mastermind had obviously done some research, which had led him to conclude that Sherlock Holmes enjoyed a good challenge and was not above bending the law to his benefit. Which wasn't exactly untrue, to be honest. However, Sherlock had no intention of aiding a criminal when it would bring him no benefit. He decided to play along, hoping to get as much information as possible to help him bring the organization down. Served the man right for wasting his time.

"No! Absolutely not! If you can't get all the Cabinet ministers in for the meeting, there's no point in my attendance. This issue needs the unanimous input of all the members. I won't be wasting my time." Mycroft's raised voice wafted over to the two seated men.

Singleton raised an eyebrow in interest. Mycroft continued his conversation, oblivious to the attention he was getting. "I'll need to discuss this with the Prime Minister. No, no, right now is not a good time... I shall be calling in exactly one hour from now. No, this has nothing to do with the new concerns in Parliament... I will be in touch."

There was a gleam in the criminal's eyes that gave Sherlock pause. "Sounds like a very important gentleman. Friend of yours?" he inquired casually.

Sherlock tried to deduce the cause of the man's sudden interest. Singleton had an edge of desperation to him. The stolen documents must contain some very incriminating evidence. Did the employee intend to use it as blackmail? Or perhaps he wanted to hand it over to the government, in exchange for a plea bargain? Whatever it was, it must be of vital importance to his client, who would do anything-

Wait. Anything. Sherlock froze for a moment, staring at Singleton silently. "Is something the matter?" the man asked, a hint of danger in his voice. Sherlock silently berated himself and shook his head. "I just think I've got a clue as to where your man has gone. According to his file" Sherlock began, "he is proficient in Spanish and has family in Peru. It's quite logical he would have sought assistance and refuge in that direction." Sherlock expounded on this theory that may have sounded credible, but was in fact completely wrong.

"I'm at my brother's right now, but I could be over at Whitehall in approximately two hours. You should let the Russian delegation wait in the side room.. yes, make them sweat it out a bit."

Sherlock began making plans to excuse himself and go shut his brother's pie hole. Mycroft had no idea what kind of whole he was digging for himself. David Singleton definitely had a weapon in his briefcase, and minions waiting outside. He would jump at the opportunity to kidnap an important but currently vulnerable member of the government. It was an incredibly stupid move, in the long run, but Sherlock wouldn't put it past him. The mastermind was like a trapped animal, and not a very clever one at that.

Or perhaps he was a bit clever. Then he could try to target Sherlock, perhaps kidnap him at a later time and get Mycroft to give in to his demands... Mycroft had declared him to be family, and made him into a target as such. Singleton, if he played his cards right, would get a free plane ride out of England plus a nice sum to tide him over hard times. Sherlock started feeling queasy.

"Excuse me, I just need to-" he was interrupted by the blessed footsteps of his flatmate. Great, John's presence would make everything more believable, if he understood enough to play along. Good old John, coming to the rescue as always.

"Sherlock? I'm just putting down the Tesco bags and picking up Rosie from Mrs. Hudson. Would you put the milk in the fridge?"

Sherlock smirked internally. The domesticity of the situation would give his client certain ideas, as it did for the rest of the world. John had moved back to Baker Street with Rosie a while after it was renovated, and the little girl now lived with a Daddy, a Grandma (Mrs. Hudson), and an Uncle Sherlock. And no, they still weren't a couple, despite what some people imagined.

"Come here a moment, John, and meet our new client." After they had been properly introduced, Sherlock turned to John and asked him, "John, sweetheart, my brother Mike has come for a visit. Mother and Father are traveling this week, and they asked us to take him in. You know how he's been lately, with his delusions... I'm sorry I didn't mention it before, but it was quite sudden. I tried calling, but you didn't pick up. Would you go check on him, honey?"

It took all of John's willpower to keep his jaw from dropping. Instead, he looked Sherlock straight in the eye, and Sherlock looked straight back. "Alright," he said, because he would never call Sherlock sweetheart, or honey, no matter what game the detective was playing.

John entered the kitchen and signaled to Mycroft to put his phone away. Quietly, he told him, "Sherlock asked me to check on you, but he was talking... strangely."

Mycroft gave him an Holmesian once-over, and demanded, in the same tone, "Tell me exactly what he said."

Mycroft listened, and then gave a small grimace. "Alright, I know what he wants. This must be payback for the last case I sent you on..."

"Care to share?" John pressed impatiently.

"I'm apparently getting a makeover as Mike Holmes, mentally ill brother of Sherlock Holmes, who lives with his parents. I am delusional and unable to take care of myself. He wants us to convey that impression to the client."

"I won't even ask why. What do I need to do?"

"Just do your usual 'Good Doctor' routine. Let him believe you are in charge of my medical care while I'm here." Mycroft grimaced again. "Sherlock has a lot to answer for, once this is over."

"Come on, this might even be enjoyable. I definitely plan to enjoy it," John smirked at the government man. While the two men's relationship was much improved, there remained a faint undercurrent of rivalry between them.

"Mike!" John suddenly raised his voice. "Did you forget to take your medication again?"