Deduce Me

Chapter Thirty-Two: Bloody Seats and Lying Wives

Sherlock

Of course it was only my stupid brother. Who does he think he is, showing up unannounced?

"Ah, Mycroft. Greg. You two scared the hell out of me," John greeted cheerfully.

"You just broke someone's arm when they pulled a knife on you, and my brother and his boyfriend scared the hell out of you?" I asked as I hung up my coat and John started heating up water for tea.

"I sprained it, as you kept insisting," he called from the kitchen. "And I just wasn't expecting to see them in our room!" He looked up at Mycroft and Lestrade, remembering they were here. "Not that we're not happy to see you..."

I hung up my scarf with my coat, glancing at Mycroft. "Well. I can see your point... I suppose Mycroft is atrociously startling to look at." I smiled at Mycroft, who made a 'haha, I am so amused... not' face.

"Sherlock..." John warned, but I waved him off. He's not a babysitter; I don't need him to tell me when I'm misbehaving.

"You don't normally make social visits," I commented.

"And John doesn't usually sprain people's arms," Mycroft retorted.

Lestrade couldn't help but chime in. "What have the two of you been up to, anyway?"

While John and I told them what was going on in the Moriarty department, I was caught up in Mycroft's hand in Greg's. They've taken to finally letting others in on heir relationship status, and they were much more open with their affection towards one another. I suppose they were a good couple... I've never seen my brother happy before, but I can see it in his body language every time he's with Greg. I can practically see his heart swelling with joy-- not literally, of course. That would be absurd. ...And life-threatening.

Mycroft watched me watching him; he knew I was scrutinating their every breath. His eyes narrowed, but he made no move to let go of Greg's hand. He knew I wanted to say something about it, and he was daring me to do it. Just say it.

"You two are good together."

Mycroft did a double-take, while Greg, startled by my outburst, blushed. "Wh-what?" my brother sputtered.

"You two are good together," I repeated with an eye roll. "I'm glad to see you finally found yourself a... What did you say? A 'goldfish'."

"A goldfish?" Greg questioned, not sure whether or not to be offended.

Mycroft shifted uneasily in his seat. "Change the subject- now."

"Goldfish? I'm a goldfish? What does that even mean?"

Mycroft sighed as I hid my smirk. "I mentioned once that if Sherlock seemed slow to me, imagine what the rest of the world seems like. I.. may have compared everyone else to goldfish."

"So you're saying I'm stupid." Greg let go of Mycroft's hand. "Just another goldfish, eh?"

John tried to help. "Greg, come on, mate, that's not what he meant-"

"Oh, I know just what he meant-" Greg said as he stood and made towards the door. "Goldfish! The oh-so-brilliant Mycroft Holmes and his idiot boyfriend!" Greg left the door open behind him as he stomped his way back to his dorm. I heard him slam the door to 222B.

Mycroft jumped off the bed where they had been sitting. "Gregory!" he called. "No, wait!"

"I hate you," he flung the words at me like daggers, but I remained unaffected.

"Have a nice day!" I called just as he was closing the door behind himself.

John gave me his you-are-such-a-twat stare. "Sherlock."