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"He's going to be held accountable, whether you like it or not!"

Lips pursed very slightly, Mycroft Holmes' eyes followed the path of a certain agitated detective inspector as he paced. The limited confines of his office made Lestrade look a bit like a panther in a cage.

“You know that I’d be more than happy to let Sherlock re-examine his dubious life choices from the inside of a cell, but it’s a family emergency, Detective Inspector.”

That bit of information made Greg pause. “Family? I’d almost assumed he didn’t have any until you showed up. And of course there’s more, just as dramatic. I suppose you had to come from somewhere.”

The lips curved in the barest potentiality of a smile. “Indeed, we did not, alas, spring fully formed from a wayward god’s forehead, or any other bodypart.”

Greg squinted, “I’d swear you were making a joke if it were anyone else, Mycroft.”

“I’m sure my dear brother gives you more cause for swearing than I do, Inspector.”

“And right you are, mostly.” Greg sighed, reaching for the phone. “Just...bring him back within a reasonable amount of time? I do need him on a couple cases. Just wanted to get his head on straight about exactly how much law-breaking in the course of justice I would abide.”

“Of course.” The words were accompanied by a gracious head-tilt, and Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade started arranging Sherlock Holmes’ release.

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