Jan 1, 2011
Mycroft at pub.
Mycroft belongs to a club.
Mycroft is the club
Mycroft is everything.
Stop texting with my brother I snagged you a seat.
He “snagged” me a seat?
John makes his way to the bar and takes the stool at Mycroft’s right. “Are you stalking me?”
“Of course not,” Mycroft scoffs.
John would be more comforted by Mycroft’s reaction if his preferred drink weren’t waiting for him without him saying a thing to the bartender.
“I do spy on you, though.” Mycroft shrugged.
“Comforting.” John downed the drink in one.
"It should be.” Mycroft nods and a fresh drink appears in front of John.
“It’s not.” John answers but Mycroft is gone.
Your brother is odd.
My brother IS odd… and prime.
John finishes his drink before returning to the flat.
Feb 1, 2011.
John stands in line at a café inside a large department store. He needs a gift for Harry. Her 40th birthday is tomorrow. He hasn’t a clue what to get her.
“Gloves.” The voice is familiar. Still John cannot believe it. He turns, certain he’s mistaken. No. Mycroft? He blinks and blinks again. Mycroft is still there.
“You want me to pinch you?” Mycroft offers.
Seriously, he must be dreaming. He reaches front of the queue. The woman hands him a coffee and chocolate cherry scone. He hasn’t ordered a thing. He loves Chocolate Cherry Scones. He wants to ask how that happens. He wants to punch Mycroft in the face. He says, “Gloves?”
“For your sister, her 41st” Mycroft starts towards a table. John understands he is supposed to follow. He hasn’t paid for his order. He doesn’t think he’s supposed to.
“Her 40th” John takes the seat across from Sherlock’s brother.
“40th, she’s two years…”
Mycroft shakes his head, “You really didn’t know? Charming.”
“My sister is 41?”
“My parents married…” John shook his head. “No, they were married 5 years before Harriet came along.”
“Right. Why?” He doesn’t believe Mycroft, except he does.
“She wasn’t ready for school. She was small for her age. Your mother...”
“Am I 38?” John interrupts.
“Do you want to be?”
"Are you spying on my sister?”
“Are you lying?”
Feb 7th, 2011-
John is walking in the park. The weather is lovely in a sad sort of way. The flowers have begun blooming but it’s too early. They’ll die when the weather gets cold again. It depresses him.
“She liked the gloves?” John heard the footsteps coming up behind him. He isn’t surprised. He is surprised not to be surprised.
“Yes.” Mycroft’s pace quickens. He is gone.