sharpshooting: (Default)
Dr. John Watson ([personal profile] sharpshooting) wrote2012-06-24 11:31 pm
Entry tags:

for Mycroft

Two days in, and John was still having a difficult time processing that he wasn't going round the twist. He really was in space, and Sherlock was really alive-- not the way John had spent half a year wishing, mad dreams of discovering his friend had faked his death and had been in hiding the whole time, but whisked away out of his life long before Moriarty's performance with the crown jewels.

Nothing made sense anymore. John would learn to live with it, but it was going to be hard for a while. And it certainly wouldn't be made easier by this: looking up to find Mycroft Holmes walking calmly through the transport hub where John sat playing a level of this Minotaur game on his phone.

He hoped Mycroft wouldn't stop, but of course he did, sending an unpleasant jolt through him at the sight of the familiar smug smile. He let his hand holding the phone drop to his lap and just stared, expressionless, willing Mycroft to back down.
the_iceman: (Default)

[personal profile] the_iceman 2012-06-25 07:05 am (UTC)(link)
Mycroft had heard that Dr. Watson had made an appereance aboard, but he had not actively sought the man out. He wasn't one for welcoming parties, or indeed, welcoming anything. It was a small enough population; they would meet eventually.

Today seemed to be that day and Mycroft decided a greeting would be in order. And, because Sherlock had begun to keep a phial of drugs on his person at all times, he might need to have a little talk with the man.

The ice-cold look the doctor was giving him, did not go unnoticed. "Doctor. Good to see you aboard this ship," he greeted.
the_iceman: (not amused)

[personal profile] the_iceman 2012-06-26 06:39 am (UTC)(link)
Clearly something had happened. Mycroft was familiar with the fact that people came from different times as well as places, so it was indeed possible for John to be from a time somewhere in his future. That - in his opinion - would be the only reason for such a brusque reply. Something had happened.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," he replied calmly.
the_iceman: (not amused)

[personal profile] the_iceman 2012-06-27 07:04 am (UTC)(link)
"Dr. Watson, would you do me the courtesy of explaining yourself," Mycroft repeated, not quite a request. "I assure you that I have no idea what you're referring to. What happened?"
the_iceman: (Default)

[personal profile] the_iceman 2012-07-04 06:38 am (UTC)(link)
Mycroft knew about the first. He'd been there, he'd been asked to appear there, to question Moriarty himself. Quid pro quo. Tit for tat, in the criminal's words.

He hadn't revealed anything about his brother that he wouldn't have said himself. In return, Moriarty had said nothing that could lead to a useful arrest. They had reached an impasse. From that to Sherlock jumping off a roof, was a bit of a strech and not one Mycroft cared to believe.

"Sherlock?" He asked with a little snort. "I'm afraid you've been mislead, doctor. Sherlock's not the jumping kind."
the_iceman: (serious)

[personal profile] the_iceman 2012-07-12 11:40 am (UTC)(link)
Had it not been his jaw on the receiving end of that blow, he would have thought John's reaction quite funny. The aggravation, the incapability to not believe what his own eyes had lead him to deduce, the unfaltering defending of his brother. He had been right about this man upon their first meeting and was proven right once more.

Sadly, this proof came with an unexpected blow in his face. John was a man of action, but of reserve and intelligence as well, and that his comment had aggravated him beyond his reasoning capacities was... unexpected to say the least.

He composed himself quickly enough, unwilling to show his surprise (and indeed and not in the last place his pain). "Good afternoon then, doctor," he replied, not quite able to keep a hint of venom out of that last word, turning the other way.