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Apr. 29th, 2012 04:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
"Not now, Mycroft. In fact, not ever."
Mycroft flicked an imaginary speck of lint off his trousers. He was used to vague unpleasantries. He got them all the time. In fact, John's were nicer than most. Usually people threatened him with gross bodily harm.
"John, you know you can't get rid of me that easily."He smirked as John threw up his hands in perturbed surrender, his small form retreating into the kitchen to no doubt turn the kettle on. He heard running water, and then a soft click. So he was going to be polite. Excellent
"You know Sherlock's away, you know exactly the second he'll return, and you have my mobile number. So what brings you here, Mycroft?" He could detect a razor edge of anger beneath the etiquette of the words.
"My brother," he began, pausing to accommodate the squeak of the armchair as the doctor sat opposite him "Has never been one for rash decisions. In fact, he's taken rather a longer time about this one than I find prurient"
"So you're here because...he's not taking your case? Well it's not like that's ever happened before. Shall I hide his cigarettes again?"
Mycroft chuckled "I'm afraid this is a bit more of a personal matter. You see, Sherlock often doesn't know what's best for himself, and as--"
"Nope. No no no." John stood, without even pouring the tea. Mycroft watched him stalk to the door, opening it with a bang.
"If you're that much of an idiot, Mycroft, as to think I would ever get involved in a personal issue of Sherlock's especially one that involves you trying to make decisions for him, you can go straight to hell. I don't care if you withdraw our secret service detail or sic Moriarty's dogs onto us. I'll handle them myself. I might even handle you if you don't get the hell out of my flat, right this instant."
His rage was so beautiful. Mycroft grinned at him, smoothly rising to his feet. He walked toward the open door, pausing in front of John. His gaze narrowed into John's angry glare.
"You know in the Diogenes, when you guessed how I bullied Sherlock all those years ago, you weren't far off."
"Come again?"
One step forward. John stood his ground. What a brave little soldier. Now chin up. Incoming fire.
He leaned in, his tall form imposing. A lesser man would have cowered. flinched just slightly. John was steady.
"I'm going to do it again, you know. It's not what he wants, but it'll get him there."
"Mycroft. What are you doing"
"I'm nicking his smurf"
"Sorry?"
"I'm breaking his action man"
Mycroft's lips brushed the hollow underneath John's ear, at the exact second Sherlock Holmes reached the top step. Mycroft congratulated himself on his perfect timing, especially since three tenths of a second later, his face was pressed against tacky bamboo wallpaper and his arm was twisted uncomfortably behind his back
"Welcome home, my dear brother" He choked out through his wince.
"John, let him go."
"After I kill him, he can go anywhere you'd like him to go"
"John"
"I'm serious, Sherlock. I don't care if he is the bloody government. Where does he get off thinking"
"John. please."
They shared a look, full of seriousness and deep emotion. Mycroft felt the pressure on his arm lessen, and finally receed entirely.
"If you come here again I will shoot you in the head before you've crossed the threshold, do you understand"
"Perfectly. I shant need to trouble you again, shall I Sherlock?"
The look he received from his brother was murderous.
"No, Mycroft. I don't believe you shall."
"An excellent decision. My regards to Mrs. Hudson."
He took the seventeen steps quickly, and was into the waiting car outside, before John broke the pause in the room he'd just left. His bluetooth crackled to life in his ear, transmitting from the little bug he'd placed under John's collar.
"I've missed something, haven't I? That was...that was some sort of...what, brotherly competition? I'M NOT STRETCH ARMSTRONG."
A pause.
"It's a toy Harry and I used to fight ov---listen. Whatever you saw, was all your brother's crazy....craziness. I don't know. Welcome back. Kettle's on. At least the tea makes sense, even when nothing else does. Sherlock?"
"It must have really meant a lot to him"
"You're doing that thing again, where you assume I have even the foggiest idea of what you're talking about"
"You don't know."
"Of course I don't know! How can I, when your mind-"
"This is rather something I'd thought you'd notice by now, John. It's more your area."
"My area"
"mmm, precisely."
"Tea?"
soft laughter, closer now. "Don't guess. You know my methods, John. Apply them"
"To... you. You want me to deduce you"
"Very good, John. Yes. Please"
"You didn't let me kill your brother. So he's not the real issue."
"Top form, John. continue."
"You're standing...really rather close to me. I--"
"excellent, and?"
"You're ...angry. No...jealous. Of...That's how---Oh. oh."
"In words, John."
"You're not angry at Mycroft because he kissed me, well you are but not JUST. You're jealous. He said about...how he would bully you into doing what he wanted, about a decision you had to make. It was me. He kissed me because he wanted you to feel threatened into action. Because...because you want me."
"Brilliant, John. Positively fantastic."
"You really think so"
"I always have"
"He really is an idiot then. How long has it been for us, two months?"
Mycroft knew he really should learn to take out his own frustration better. This was the second umbrella he'd snapped in two weeks, and they weren't getting any less expensive.