Overflow Post II
This post is for responding to prompts from prompt posts that are full, or continuing WIPs that were started on prompt posts that have since filled up or are close to full.
( Read more... )
( Read more... )
"You're sure you okay?" Anderson didn't even give him five minutes to himself, obviously thinking that his presence was a soothing energy to Mycroft's soul.
"I'm fine," Mycroft repeated with clenched jaw, "When do you think they will allow us to go home?"
"Soon, but DI Holmes asked us to come by tomorrow to take our statements," Anderson replied absently, frowning at something he saw in a distance. "Is that... could it be..."
"Hello again, Doctor Holmes," the blond man in striped jumper greeted cheerfully, folding his arms behind back, "Anderson."
"John," the name rolled out of the consulting detective like bile, "What do you want this time? I have no time for one of your boring cases."
"Why must you think ill of me every time? Sherlock told me you almost died. I just want to make sure that my brother is okay."
"God save us all from your meddling prowess. Can I breathe just for one second without you telling me the 'proper' way to do it? Will it kill you inside to know that London will survive without you poking your nose in everyone's life?"
John frowned, looking mildly amused rather than upset, "I am well aware of that. I wasn't even in England until this afternoon."
"Doctor Holmes, meet my jumper-wearing, all-powerful, tea-addict brother, John Watson. He occupies a minor position in the government but don't let that fool you. If he puts his mind in to it, he can induce wars in exactly twenty different small countries across the world." Anderson spat, crossing his arms, "Anyway, don't pull the cctv trick on me ever again. If I see another camera being deliberately pointed at me again on my way home, I will tell mummy that you've been picking on me."
"That won't work. I'm her favourite."
"You..." Anderson jabbed a finger at John's direction, face flushed with anger, "You just never let go, don't you. It's always like that. My childhood was hell because you--"
XXX
After a while, Mycroft stopped walking and sighed in relief after confirming that he was no longer within an earshot of the siblings bickering.
"Leaving already?"
He turned around to find a smirking, all too pleased Inspector standing behind him, holding something behind his back.
"I think you're forgetting something."
Mycroft pressed his lips together as Sherlock offered him his umbrella, pale eyes glinting with humor.
"Thank you," he accepted it, half-dazed, alternately switching his gaze on his supposedly bad leg and the umbrella.
"I guess in a way, he is good for you after all," the younger man commented with a far too wide grin, before turning around and walking back towards the crowd, emanating smugness from his retreating back. "I recommend coming with Anderson to the crime scene next time! Does wonders to your waistline!"
END
Reply
Loved Mycroft as the retiring doctor who hates legwork and Sherlock as the DI
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment