"Sherlock, we have to leave."

"I don't want to."

"I don't care if you don't want to. You have to."

"Why?"

Mycroft gave an exasperated sigh. "Because the attack has come. It's not safe here anymore. I'm being relocated."

Sherlock pouted and crossed his arms. "You're the bloody government! Can't you do something?"

"I've held off as long as I could. We can't risk waiting any longer. The soldiers are arriving today to transport us."

John Watson watched the scenery pass by. He had been in the war zones. He knew the damage firsthand. Still, it was hard to look at the rolling hills and pristine streams and know it was all going to hell. Soon the enemy would be near and the countryside would be in flames.

Watson wasn't too happy to be sent on this mission. He wanted to be back on the front lines, knowing he was contributing to the cause. He missed the adrenaline that coursed through his veins as bullets whizzed past and explosions rang all around. He didn't want to go on this special mission when he could be protecting the country elsewhere.

He didn't want to be the protector of some arrogant rich arse either.

It seemed stupid to him. If the Holmes family was really so important, why hadn't they been relocated earlier? And why did he have to be the designated personal bodyguard of the younger son? According to rumors, the older brother had picked his file specifically. Had been impressed with his shooting accuracy and record of selflessness, risking his life many times for his comrades.

Watson didn't have a problem risking his life for a good soldier fighting alongside him for the protection of the nation. He did have an issue with sacrificing himself for a pompous brat who could afford the extraordinary fees required to escape the draft. A coward. All alphas were drafted.

Hell, he was supposed to be in college. Working to become a surgeon. Setting up a cozy future where he wouldn't have to stress over every last coin. But he was an alpha. It was his duty, and the law, for him to join the army once the epidemic broke out.

And some bloody Holmes boy got out of the constant struggles he faced every day because he had the luck of being born a Holmes. Everyone knew all the Holmes were alphas. They were notorious alpha producers. If Watson had been in the same circumstance, he would have still gone to war.

He didn't necessarily resent it. But it wasn't all rainbows and butterflies. The threat of death loomed over him at all times. But it was his duty.

He nearly grimaced as he saw the approaching mansion. More than ever, he couldn't wait for the war to be over.

"Does he know?"

"What?"

"Does my bodyguard know about the... complication?" Sherlock asked.

"He'll be briefed once he arrives," Mycroft soothed.

"I don't like this. It's risky."

"And when do you ever care about risks?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Mycroft. Risks in the name of science are a completely different matter."

"Well you'll have to compromise if you care at all for your life."

Sherlock scoffed. "This whole thing is ridiculous."

"No, you're being ridiculous. We're going to London and that's final. The attack is approaching and I'm not giving you a choice. Now pack your important things. The fingers in the refrigerator don't count."

"Alright, everyone out!" the commander shouted.

John hopped out of the trunk with nearly twenty other men. They were all brought to the front gate, high and barred. A button was pressed and words were exchanged before it swung open and they marched towards the house.

Watson looked bitterly upon the looming mansion. The entire thing was ridiculous. His whole purpose in the mission was ridiculous. He... he smelled something unusual. Watson sniffed the air again.

There was no denying the sweet aroma of a young omega. Watson scanned the men around him. All military men. All alphas. He needed to find the source of the scent. Maybe it was a mate? He hadn't been briefed on any mates. Hopefully their lives weren't in his hands as well.

"Smell that?" he murmured to his friend, Mike Stamford.

"Smell what?"

"An omega," Watson clarified. "Can't you smell it? The odor is so potent. It'll make the mission a lot harder. The enemy will certainly be attracted to it."

Stamford gave him a puzzled look. "John, I don't smell anything. You're probably just missing the omega scent."

John pursed his lips. He could feel his hormones beginning to escalate. There was definitely a strong omega scent nearby. He was intent on finding it.

Sherlock sneezed. "This place reeks of foreign alphas," he complained.

"I'm aware. You're using the extra strength suppressant, correct?"

"Of course Mycroft. Don't be daft."

There was a sharp knock on the door and Mycroft strode over to answer it. "Yes, come in," he said, sweeping the door wide and beckoning the soldiers forward. They filtered through and he rejoined his brother.

Sherlock sneezed again, bitterly noting the strong appeal of an alpha's scent. This could be an issue. He scanned the faces with his sharp grey eyes before they settled on a short, attractive blond. He sniffed the air again. Yes, the scent was coming from him.

"Which one is that?" he asked Mycroft, nodding his head in the blond soldier's direction.

"John Watson," Mycroft murmured. "He's the one I picked as your protector."

Sherlock paled. "No. Pick another."

"For heaven's sake, Sherlock, stop being a baby. He's the most qualified to deal with you."

"I don't care," Sherlock snapped, but Mycroft was ignoring him. Sherlock could feel his omega pheromones practically seeping out of every pore in this alpha's presence. Never before he had felt desire, and now it gripped him at the throat.

Watson caught sight of a tall figure. Lean, with dark curls and stunning grey eyes. He breathed deeply through his nose. Yes, the scent was coming from this male. Never before had he found a male omega's scent so appealing. Or anyone's scent, for that matter. It was simply intoxicating.

And then reality crashed upon him. This must be the younger Holmes. The one he was sent to protect. Not an alpha at all, but clearly an omega. Watson was slightly surprised at how maintained all the other alphas were in this strong omega presence. Then he caught another whiff.

Beta suppressant.

Holmes was not an open omega. Interesting. Watson could already feel the complexity of the situation building.