Sherlock and The Social Dots

 (Sherlock meta by bassfanimation)

I keep seeing people continue to fight over Sherlock and the meaning of Eurus’ tests so I wanted to write a little thing on it. I’m doing this with a wrist brace on and heinous fibro-turd pain, so forgive any misspellings.

The way I have personally absorbed Sherlock and the meaning of Eurus’s tests is that it’s about Sherlock as an empty person. He is an incomplete picture until he begins connecting the dots that are his social connections and even more importantly, his emotions. Let’s look at his relationships one by one and I’ll explain.

Dot 1: Greg Lestrade 

Lestrade represents respect for authority. In fact, he is the only real authority figure in the series. He’s Sherlock’s ‘boss’ in a way. Bosses need people they employ to be reliable, respectful, and trustworthy. Sherlock treating his boss/mentor like crap, making fun of his intelligence and skirting around him at every chance he gets is terribly disrespectful. Sherlock is childish and arrogant and disregards Lestrade in most cases, even refusing to acknowledge his name. We’ve all had those bosses when we were young that we didn’t respect, so we act like spoiled brats about it even though those people probably have way more experience than we do. They have earned their position via the rout of hard work and being reliable and respectful. By the end of the series, however, Sherlock shows us he has resolved the issue of his respect for Lestrade by politely asking him, by name, a first for the entire series, to please take care of his brother. Sherlock is no longer a bratty child and he has connected the social dot of respect.

Dot 2: John Watson 

John represents friendship, pure and simple. John is literally the “replacement” for Victor, Sherlock’s best friend who was killed when he was very, very little. That left Sherlock as the empty shell that we see at the start of the series. The loss of his friend at such a young age meant that he essentially shut down the part of him that he felt could even have friends. He rejected the idea of personal connections with other people entirely, so that he wouldn’t suffer loss again. John, through all their trials and tragedies, has now healed that wound for Sherlock. Even more, John as Sherlock’s friend, has helped him connect all the other dots. He walked with him step by step to do it. Without John’s companionship, Sherlock would still be empty. John’s maturity helped Sherlock grow up and be the man he was supposed to be, had he not suffered such a terribly traumatic event in his youth.

One other thing John represents is family, brotherhood to be specific. Mycroft was very cold to Sherlock in their youth, even though it’s obvious it wasn’t always that way. In the family videos we are shown, Sherlock absolutely loves his brother. It isn’t until later, after Victor, that he feels so alone. It’s obvious Sherlock loved Victor just like a brother, like the brother he really needed but was taken from him. Sherlock says John is “family” in The Final Problem, and he means it. It also shows just how much emotion Sherlock has. His love is that strong. His friend was his brother, a part of his own blood, even if they wren’t born as brothers.

Dot 3: Mrs. Hudson 

Mrs Hudson represents a parent’s love. It’s clear that Sherlock has a very strained relationship with his parents. He doesn’t hate them, but he doesn’t appear to believe that they care for him. They’re not around when he is still basically a child in a grown man’s body. He has cut them off in his mind. Maybe they weren’t there for him in the past so he continues to believe they’re not there for him now. Meanwhile, Mrs. Hudson dotes on Sherlock, brings him tea and food and generally ‘takes care’ of him. She’s kind but not a pushover. She’s also led a life that is about as tumultuous as you can get, which I think appeals to Sherlock. He always surrounds himself with people who aren’t “regular” people. Mrs. Hudson holds enough action and adventure in her life that she appeals to Sherlock, and she is also loving and sweet to boot. Mrs. Hudson is the connected parental dot for Sherlock.

Dot 4: Irene Adler 

Irene Adler represents sexuality. What’s even better is that Irene represents fluid sexuality, and more importantly, the rejection of labels. Regardless of how everyone has interpreted this, when you get down to the simplicity of it, it is simply about rejection of boxing one’s self in. Sherlock’s box was his own making, his image as the “higher power” that Irene pointed out. Irene’s own box was her sexuality. Both of these people had discovered during the episode that their boxes weren’t taped shut all the way. There was wiggle room. Back to the sexuality part, Irene awakened Sherlock sexually. The entirety of A Scandal in Belgravia was loaded with sexuality, from Sherlock being naked and looking extraordinarily dashing, to the very naked Irene appearing to completely disrupt his logical thinking power. It’s as close to canon as one can get that Sherlock did sleep with Irene after Karachi (judging by Eurus’s reaction to his violin song for her). Sex and intimacy was something Sherlock had very much refrained from in his life and Irene connected that dot for him.

Dot 5: Molly Hooper 

Molly represents authentic love, or “romantic entanglement” as Sherlock puts it. Everything about Molly and Sherlock’s interaction falls in line with how everyday romantic relationships blossom. They began just like kids, with Molly having a crush and Sherlock being a jerk to her, ignoring her, or thwarting her attempts to date other men. As they grow together, they begin to close the gap between them. Molly earns Sherlock’s complete trust, which was monumentally difficult for her to do considering Sherlock’s fear of connecting with people too closely. Molly loves Sherlock through his best times and his worst times, unconditionally, even though he doesn’t appear to return her feelings. From small things we’re shown, however, it feels as if Sherlock does feel something for Molly, but he has compartmentalized it and buried it as deep as he can underground out of fear. Eurus’s test is what forced Sherlock to dig up that box, that box he’d put his heart in and covered it underneath the earth. Eurus forces that box open, and connects the dot of romantic love for Sherlock.

Dot 6: Mary Watson 

Mary represents, I think, coming to terms with one’s self, and the different shades of the self. She represents acceptance. Mary connected with and accepted Sherlock instantly because they were the same. They both came from dangerous lives, they are both morally gray, and they both have a need to be accepted for who they are, the good and the bad. Mary was in many ways, a reflection of Sherlock’s own duality. I think Mary made him question things about himself (no not sexually), and I think she also taught him how much he is worth as a person. She showed him that even though you are this person you’ve constructed out of your own pain, you don’t have to live just as that person. You can have anything you desire and still be you. You can live with shades of yourself, and those around you who truly love you will accept you as that. They will love you for the good that you are, and forgive you for the bad that you are. Mary connected the dots of acceptance for Sherlock.

Dot 7: Jim Moriarty 

Jim represented fear. He represented who Sherlock would have been, had he not had some form of love and connection in his life. He was a madman, a true sociopath. He showed Sherlock what it really would be like if he was who he said he was. We learn very quickly, however, what Moriarty already knew. Sherlock can never be like him because he does have a huge capacity for love. He’s hidden it, denied it, but it is there. Anywhere Moriarty appeared, it caused great fear in Sherlock. Even after his death, Moriarty was in Sherlock’s mind, chained up in a padded room like a some kind of caged monster. As much as Sherlock tried to be like him, he really feared becoming that. He also feared that Moriarty would be the undoing of his friends and family, forever a threat to their lives. Moriarty was an endless threat to Sherlock, an endless fear of madness and murder. Jim connected the dot of fear, true fear, for Sherlock.

Dot 8: Mycroft Holmes 

I admit this one’s tough. I feel Mycroft represents weakness. For all the power Mycroft wields in the government, he’s very fearful of being out in the world. He keeps people as distant as he can manage and still be a part of functioning society. He also did a terrible thing and locked up his little sister and lied to his family about it because he feared confronting it. All along in the series, we see Mycroft chastise Sherlock for things like having friends, being close to people, tangling with psychopaths, etc. Mycroft is a very soft, fearful person, which makes his nickname The Ice Man sort of ironic. Its not that he doesn’t care, he’s just far too soft to care. We see his softness demonstrated with Sherlock, time and time again. He cares so much for his little brother and fears so much for him that he constantly keeps watch on him. Mycroft also tried to help Sherlock by proxy, using John as a means to help Sherlock heal his wounds. In the end, Sherlock comes to realize his brother isn’t a bad person, and that he loves him deeply. In fact, he loves his little brother enough to die for him so that he won’t be left like he was as a child, without his best friend. I think Mycroft regrets being as weak as he is, because he didn’t do more to help his siblings. It just required too much care, and he wasn’t able to fulfill that. In the end, it is Sherlock who is the stronger of them, and he is stronger because of his connected dots. The last dot is connect by Mycroft, and that is Sherlock understanding that he is capable of protecting the weak, that he is stronger thanks to his mind, heart, and soul now being complete.

_____________

That’s about all. I only included the major characters here, the ones we see almost every episode. I’ve already talked a bit about how Eurus forces Sherlock to confront trauma, so she represents that last little bit which Sherlock needs to connect everything together. She wasn’t a dot, so much as the one who helped him see the entire picture he’d made. Also, Rosie helps Sherlock in her own way, as Sherlock now has this capacity to care for the smallest of people: children. Rosie is a teeny, tiny, adorable dot.

I mostly wrote this because I had wanted to for a while, but also because some people are still arguing about the 'I Love You' scene. They’re missing the forest in favor of the leaves. The bigger picture is pretty clear on what everyone’s purposes were in the show, and how they affected Sherlock as a man. To become a great man, he needed to be a complete man. All these connected dots make him that man.

A conversation about Lestrade and Tom at the wedding

(Sherlock Meta by urbanhymnal, provocatrixxx and anneincolor)

urbanhymnal:

I need people to talk about how sad Lestrade looked at the wedding. We have a picture of him sitting off at his table, drinking by himself while everyone else is mingling and chatting. Then he had to sit next to beautiful, literally looking-like-a-ball-of sunshine Molly and her fiance, Tom. Everyone around him is so happy and there is Lestrade and his troubled marriage, all alone. No plus one with him.

He gives up on a huge arrest to check on Sherlock (making a bit of a fool of himself by scrambling over there with back up), gets left out of the stag night, and doesn’t get to party after the wedding because he has to clean up the mess again. He didn’t get to dance, either.

Papa Greg deserves better, damn it.

provocatrixxx:

Do you think maybe he’s feeling.. not ‘old’ old, but just… very aware of the passage of time?

I mean, he’s watching John marry Mary, and Mary is perfect for John. If we assume that John is one of his closest male friends, which seems reasonable, the happiness that he feels for John is going to be shadowed by his own insecurities. John chose the perfect woman and is marrying her and is glowing with it. Greg’s own marriage was completely wrong for him. For someone in Greg’s position, that’s going to hurt, there’s going to be something in the back of his mind that says he will never find his own perfect partner.

Molly, I think, is an extension of that. She was pining for Sherlock, but she decided to move on and she’s sticking with it. See how confident she is when Sherlock visits her in the lab? She makes him apologise to her. How very different from the first time we meet her and her faffing with the lipstick.

And Sherlock too. He’s difficult, he delivers an absolute mess of a speech, but he’s trying. And he gets there. He gives John a fantastic wedding. He’s slowly becoming ‘good’ as well as great.

So where does that leave poor Greg? He’s still in his job, he’s either still with his wife and unhappy about it, or he’s in a cramped little flat somewhere that’s dark and distressing which is why he lives in his office.

Everyone around him is going through massive changes and coming out the other side of them as better people. Greg is solid and dependable and that’s why we love him, but he’s too old and too tired to change any more.

For me, I think John’s wedding is that realisation in technicolour. Greg’s job is to be solid, and for the most part, I think he’s happy with that. But sitting at a beautiful wedding beside the woman who took her life back and became fierce with it has got to hit him somewhere in the gut.

Poor Greg. What are your feelings about Omniscient Older Brothers who spend too much time on treadmills?

anneincolor:

I think we all know that Tom is a sort of placeholder, at this point. Molly was positively horrified by his contributions to the wedding. He only speaks to make her upset and embarrassed, which does not bode well for his future as a character. I mean… Meat dagger? If you notice, when Greg does his thing about the dwarf, Molly isn’t upset; she’s got second hand embarrassment, sure, but her face looks a bit… endeared. She likes Greg, she knows Sherlock likes Greg, she’s not concerned that he didn’t get the correct answer. When Tom stands, though, and then speaks, she looks like she wants to fall through the floor. No matter who Molly was at the beginning, she’s now a part of Team Deduction, and Team Deduction has pretty simple rules: Greg can be kind of an idiot, John can be overly sentimental and “miss everything of importance,” but no one else gets a lot of leeway to be wrong in Sherlock’s presence. Tom can’t be a Team Deduction member, and thus, he’s always going to be outside.

The framing of this episode captured Greg and Molly together over and over again. I’ve been shipping this couple since ASiB, because of his reaction to her when she took off the coat, but I do think that we’re being set up to think about Greg pining a bit after Molly. We can assume he didn’t cross her path much since Sherlock was gone, but now that Sherlock’s back, there’s a chance again - only, she’s engaged to this complete idiot. There are several emotional moments in TSoT where Greg and Molly share a look, most intimately when Sherlock says he never expected to be anyone’s best friend. These are people who understand Sherlock, who love him, who’ve known him much longer than John, who at points define themselves by their association with him. Both of them.

My hope for Molly is that she recognizes Tom for what he is: an attempt to not-really-move-on from her hopes about Sherlock. And then, maybe once she ends that and has a few girl’s nights, she could look across the table at Greg, because (in my humble opinion) they would make a fantastic couple.

While I’m pretty much neutral about Molly/Greg I do have to say that I think that the storytelling was incredibly clear about Molly not in fact having moved on. At this point, I would rather see her happy with pretty much anyone (or happily single, that’s a thing that does actually happen) than to settle with someone she’s not happy with. I have to admit to being pretty torn about some of her behavior in this episode.  Tom may not be brilliant but he probably loves her and thinks she loves him, and she treated him pretty harshly.  I would love it if she did the mature thing and broke it off.

I also really hope that they aren’t just keeping her on the hook for Sherlock because 1. boring 2. boring 3. that’d be a dick move to pull on a character they claim to love and leaves her stagnant, growth wise.

The Magnificent Decency of Detective Inspector Lestrade

 (Sherlock Meta from before S3 by drinkingcocoa)

[...]

There is a bastion of decency in BBC Sherlock, an indicator of trustworthiness, and his name is Lestrade.  His very presence conveys security.  His character judgments are sound because where people are concerned, Lestrade doesn’t just see; he observes.

In “A Study in Pink,” what is John to make of the potential flatmate?  Genius or madman?  Mrs. Hudson seems to like Sherlock, but for all John knows, she could be mad, too.  And then a heavy tread on the stair announces a man in a trenchcoat talking half telepathically with Sherlock:  This one did.  Will you come?  And Sherlock whirls away.

What just happened?

John opens the paper.  There.  Just below the fold.  “DI Lestrade:  In charge of the investigation.”  And everything changes with that photo.  It anchors reality.  Lestrade is proof:  Sherlock Holmes is real.

At the crime scene, Sergeant Donovan voices every doubt John might have.  “Psychopaths get bored,” she warns, and just as John is pondering this –

“DONOVAN!”

Donovan immediately turns to obey Lestrade.  She leaves John with “Stay away from Sherlock Holmes,” but her warning is too late:  Lestrade has anchored reality again.  If this Donovan heeds Lestrade, and Sherlock also heeds Lestrade, and Lestrade believes in Sherlock… then Sherlock must be real.  Lestrade’s approval is confirmation enough for John.

They believe in Lestrade at the Met.  Proud, defensive DI Dimmock is not above Lestrade’s mentoring.  Lestrade advises DI Carter on Sherlock (“try not to punch him”) with the manner of a man who knows this grizzled cop will listen to him.  The Chief Superintendent calls Lestrade “a bloody idiot,” but the show makes sure he gets chinned later.

In “The Great Game,” Sherlock spurns Mycroft’s entreaties for help, but the moment Lestrade calls, he says, “Of course.  How could I refuse?”  In “Hounds,” and probably long before, Mycroft calls on Lestrade to intercede with Sherlock.

Even Moriarty acknowledges Lestrade, whom he casts as King Arthur to Sherlock’s Sir Boast-a-lot.  In “The Great Game,” Moriarty’s mouthpiece says, “It’s okay that you’ve gone to the police.”  But Sherlock didn’t go to the police.  It was Moriarty who involved the police by leaving them something to give Sherlock.  Moriarty recognizes the significance of Lestrade’s role in Sherlock’s life before Sherlock does.

We see in “The Great Game” that Lestrade is a childhood dream come true for Sherlock, though perhaps Sherlock doesn’t know to appreciate this.  Moriarty does, though.  Moriarty has been keeping track of everything that happened once the Carl Powers case hit the papers:

“I made a fuss,” Sherlock tells John.  “I tried to get the police interested, but nobody seemed to think it was important.”  But now there is Lestrade, who comes personally when Sherlock requests “your least irritating officer,” who vouches for Sherlock with skeptical co-workers, who accepts Sherlock’s deductions with nothing more than “You sure about this?”  The Chief Superintendent points out that Sherlock’s been given access to all kinds of classified information.  Exactly.  Lestrade is aware that Sherlock has handled all of it flawlessly, confidentially, every single time.  There is no way Lestrade’s faith in Sherlock could waver; he has long-verified proof that Sherlock is real.

What makes Lestrade so certain?

He doesn’t just see; he observes.

Watch him in the “drugs bust” scene.  He’s focused almost entirely on Sherlock, and yet he’s simultaneously aware of every single person on the premises, so deftly in control that he can even afford humor (“No, Anderson’s my sniffer dog”):  he slots his interpersonal dealings according to priority without ever losing track.  He’s so attuned to people that he knows when it’s time to deviate from the script:  when he cuts off Sherlock’s resistance by revealing his own nicotine patch, we see a world of untold story about an authority figure who once, long ago, understood that the way to gain trust was to give something of himself.  How mercilessly Sherlock must once have deduced Lestrade’s nicotine addiction.  How little he must have expected that this surprising policeman would be secure enough to take it as invitation instead of attack.  Younger Sherlock probably loathed hypocrisy; Lestrade has none.

Once Lestrade has secured Sherlock’s participation, his eyes bear down intently on Sherlock.  His gaze flickers only when Sherlock asks why the dead woman would still be upset about a stillbirth:  Will the new man see Sherlock as a sociopath or as the rare treasure he is?  The camera cuts sharply to a close-up just of Lestrade’s eyes snapping to John, without his head moving.  He observes John, understands instantly who John and Sherlock will be to each other, then snaps his focus back to Sherlock.

With Sherlock’s permission, at Sherlock’s invitation, he’s plugging into Sherlock’s brain:  Sherlock is offering himself as a deducing machine for the two of them to use together, in partnership.  It’s incredibly intimate.  Especially considering the way Sherlock experiences revelation, Lestrade’s observation feels almost like watching for a mental orgasm, with a climax and an afterglow.  This accounts for Lestrade’s always slightly-too-interested demeanor, as we see at the Christmas party when Sherlock says “No, it was me” of the text alert.  But it accounts for Lestrade’s respectfulness as well, the measured but trusting dismissals when Sherlock goes his way.

By the time John asks Lestrade why he puts up with Sherlock, Lestrade has identified John as Lestrade’s ally for life.  His answer brings John fully up to speed.  Lestrade trusts in Sherlock for his job (“because I’m desperate”).  He treasures Sherlock for his gift, the same thing Sherlock values in himself (“a great man”).  And he is personally fond of Sherlock, invested in what becomes of him (“if we’re very lucky…a good one”).  This tells John:  yes, it’s okay to need Sherlock, admire him, and like him, too.  Lestrade does, and Lestrade’s judgment is sound.

Lestrade’s liking for people and his sensitivity for what makes them tick are the sources of his strength.  We see that he relies on these powers as securely as Sherlock relies on his deductions and perhaps, like Sherlock, he doesn’t fully understand what it’s like not to be himself:  he’s genuinely surprised that Donovan and Anderson can have seen Sherlock’s magic over the years and not believe that it is real.  This is part of the appeal of this character:  his innocence of his own gifts.

Perhaps, too, Lestrade’s powerful sense of humanity tells us why he missed when he shot at the hound in the fog.  The poison works with fear and stimulus to make people feel uncontrollably aggressive.  Sherlock sees the face of his fear:  Moriarty.  What did Lestrade see?  Perhaps he saw himself as a cop who has become jaded and brutal, violent, punitive.  It may be just as disorienting for Lestrade to lose touch with his decency as it is for Sherlock to be unable to trust the evidence of his senses.  Perhaps he felt so much unfamiliar aggression toward the menacing hound that his alarm interrupted his aim.  Of course, he could have just missed.  But he did see something he feared; they all did.

Moriarty’s attack in “The Reichenbach Fall” causes Sherlock, finally, to consider his relationship to Lestrade – to grow aware of Lestrade in a way reminiscent of a child maturing into new understanding of his parents.  Lestrade’s steadfastness, unblinking even when Sherlock tests him with a tap on the third eye, tells the whole story of his character.  The viewer knows, though Lestrade does not yet, that by the end of Series 2, Sherlock has become the good man that Lestrade always hoped he could be.  Lestrade’s comprehension of Sherlock’s goodness is one of the great pleasures to look forward to in Series 3.

"Sir, there’s been a break in" / "Not our division"

 (Sherlock Meta by intellectualfangirl)

I love this moment. Not just because it’s pretty hilarious; I think this reveals much of what you need to know about Sally Donovan and Gregory Lestrade.

Let’s look at Sally: she’s shown in motion, opening a door and delivering her line at the same time. She creates action, she sets events into motion, and she’s bent on justice. Sure, she functions as the giver of news here, but there’s an implication in what she says: there’s been a break-in and she wants to do something about it. Additionally, she doesn’t wait until Greg has acknowledged her presence: she knows that she is dealing with a pressing matter, so propriety is not her first priority. However, she still adheres to some etiquette (addressing Greg as sir), indicating that she respects him. Now look at her clothing choices: Sally wants to get shit done, and she wears what she wants while she does so. She wears feminine, practical clothing: there’s a beautiful necklace around her neck, and her shirt has this gorgeous pattern that I originally thought was lace-inspired. Still, it’s all stuff she can move in. But her clothing is much less whimsical than Molly’s, for example: notice the geometric lines of the necklace and the practical watch she wears on her left wrist.

Now look at Greg: Greg reacts to things. He’s clearly busy, and finding a moment to put his feet up and have a bit to eat (is that a scone? or in the tradition of stereotypical cops everywhere, is that a doughnut? we may never know)…and to have some coffee, of course. As he speaks, frustrated, harried, crumbs fall from his mouth (which really makes the humour of this moment, in my opinion). Paperwork is scattered on his desk, but besides an inexplicable paperweight/ornament and the cushy chair, the office looks rather utilitarian. Greg’s feet are on the desk in the classic “power pose,” but in his case the position serves to display his shoes, which don’t quite seem to match his already rather rumpled suit (well, rumpled by television standards). Is he wearing brown or black? I can’t really tell, but he’s not the natty dresser Sherlock is, that’s for certain.

She’s the newer member of the force, he’s the greying veteran. He’s in a traditional position of power (both by his pose, his job, and his status as white, male, and older), while she’s somewhat of an intruder (or she could be seen as one). But Sally is the more active one—he’s so clearly exhausted. And when you look at their interactions beyond this scene, it’s so clear that he respects her, and she respects him, and they have a very effective working relationship—they might even be called friendly, if not friends. And I like to think that Sally, Sally who could so easily ignore him or mock him or just do her job and nothing more, I think Sally is responsible for that.

This has been a Sally Donovan and Greg Lestrade (but mostly Sally Donovan) appreciation post.

A few thoughts about a Mycroftian trope: 

Would Mycroft ever have kidnapped Greg Lestrade? 

 (Sherlock Meta by theopoiesis)

Mycroft. He kidnaps everybody. Snags people off the street, makes veiled (and not so veiled) threats, sends messages via ATM. He’s creepy and Orwellian and more powerful than most people probably understand.

I’ve read a fair few fics where Mycroft kidnaps Greg the first time he meets him. Here’s the thing: I don’t think he would.

I suspect that how Mycroft “meets” Sherlock’s associates is context-sensitive. Mycroft threatened, kidnapped, and attempted to bribe John to see how he would react. He wanted to know what kind of man John is, see what John would do, because John was going to be constantly in Sherlock’s company. Sherlock’s asking John if Mycroft had offered him money means he has probably done it before, with others who might have been thinking of rooming with Sherlock. Considering Mycroft’s position and Sherlock’s general attitude, Mycroft has probably done this with anyone who has tried to share rooms with his brother.

In such cases, it makes a twisted sort of sense. Anyone around Sherlock would have to be able to deal with weird things, with the unexpected, with threats and mysteries. Mycroft has always known this. If someone about to share a flat with Sherlock couldn’t handle a little creepy intimidation from Big Brother, there is no way they’d be able to cope with eyeballs in the microwave and severed heads in the fridge.

Talking to John via ATM after John had proven himself was, I suspect, as much Mycroft’s sense of humor as anything else, but people are watching John and Mycroft may not always want someone to know details. Anyone could be listening in to John’s mobile. Hacking the ATM would certainly allow for private communications.

My question is, would Mycroft ever have kidnapped Greg Lestrade? I don’t think so, and this is why:

I believe Mycroft would take Greg’s position as a police officer into consideration. He would approach Greg differently. You don’t just snag a cop off the street. You don’t threaten a cop. Someone like Greg would respond to a show of authority and to a request for a meeting to discuss Sherlock, considering that it has to do with his work. He’d probably expect questions from his supervisors or other higher-ups. Mycroft might have collected him in one of his black cars, but I don’t think any threats, veiled or otherwise, would have been used. There might have been some talk of Sherlock being under government surveillance and a request for Greg to cooperate. Mycroft may even have scheduled an appointment with Greg at NSY early on, for all we know.

The use of intimidation, threats, and bribery would put someone like Greg off entirely. Mycroft doesn’t need to know whether or not Greg is brave or reasonably loyal, because the man goes out to work every day in situations where someone might kill him. It’s what he does. Bribery would most likely result in an extremely negative reaction - not just a “shove your money up your ass” response but going to his superiors and reporting an attempt at bribing a police officer, which is pretty serious stuff.

To offer Greg a bribe would be to imply that he’s a bent cop, and I can’t see him responding to that in anything but the most negative manner possible. Threatening him would leave him ready to fight, and to bring his people in on it. It would attract far more attention than Mycroft would want. These things would shine light into the dark corners where Mycroft conducts most of his business. It would cause overreactions where a simple phone call or a quiet meeting would actually produce results.

Mycroft would know that. He’s a subtle manipulator, and he knows which tools to use with which people, and under what circumstances. Bribing a police officer would not be politic, and I’m sure he’d be aware if Greg had ever been susceptible to such things. Greg’s record would be easily available to him, and he would certainly have looked it up.

Add to that the fact that Greg is a professional contact, not a potential flatmate. He’d see Sherlock, but he wouldn’t be spending every day with him. He wouldn’t be living under the same roof. He wouldn’t have cause to be in nearly as close contact with Sherlock on a regular basis, and therefore would be a lower priority on Mycroft’s radar.

Mycroft might have kidnapped most of Sherlock’s potential flatmates, but I don’t think he’s ever had reason to do it to Greg.