_mycroft (_mycroft) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2013-01-26 23:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed |
Who: Mycroft Holmes, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.
Where: Presumably, their honeymoon shack.
What: Getting acquainted with his new brother-in-law over a cup of tea.
When: Saturday afternoon.
Rating: Pft. Medium to high, probably.
Open: Nope.
Status: In progress.
The thin linen coat he sports does little to protect him against the gushes of wind that pop up sporadically. He wasn't exactly anywhere near the United Kingdom when he was so brusquely pulled away from his work to be faced with two people he doesn't know as well as he should. Especially where this John Watson's concerned, who apparently has gone on to become his brother's spouse. Not that he has a problem with that. Anyone who can tolerate his little brother's antics for longer than five minutes is a keeper. His little brother has done well for himself. Of course, there's the dying bit, which he's still unsure about. And frankly, he doesn't want to think about it too much. Aside from a quip that goes much like this: at the very least it wasn't drugs? He looks down at his phone one last time, remembers that he's left the charger and box in the shop where he's 'acquired' it and can't care less. Because he misses Anthea already. She'd know what to do, especially right now, when he's sporting a grand variety of bruises in different stages of healing and a few blood splatters on his coat that would tell anyone he's been up to no good. You don't need to be a genius of deduction to figure that out. Mi6 doesn't let go of its operatives easily. But it was one last mission before he could bow out - for good, taking Anthea with him. Instead, he's here and he should try to make the best of it, all things considered. Even if he's sure that Sherlock has never seen him like this before, he's not about to hide anything. But he's tried to make himself look presentable all the same. He walks on, trusting his intuition. And then he's on the beach, staring at the houses and trying to figure out where he's supposed to be at. Maybe - yes. The smallest. Yes. |