(no subject)

[somereliance]

House sitting? For Mycroft you mean?

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[somereliance]

I can't see Mycroft feeling guilty for anything, he is the man that starts wars over teatime after all. [But John would be the first to admit that he really doesn't know much about Sherlock's brother, even if he ranks as one of the foremost experts on the Holmes'.

Chin in his hand, John watches Sherlock play for a long time. It's a song that he's come to resent, but without much active malice. It's difficult to hold a grudge against a dead woman. In some ways, John should be thankful for Irene's interference in their comfortable little world. Before her, he'd never thought it was possible for Sherlock Holmes to have strong feelings. Oh, well, he knew he might rank highly in that realm too. In a different sort of way.

If it weren't for Irene, John might never have realized that he carried such a jealous streak too. Uncomfortable questions that may have raised, this time, John is less afraid of facing the unknown.]

Think we've found my occupation then. [John would hide himself in the poetry for hours, if Sherlock allowed it. They'd have to see.]

I'll just tell Mrs Hudson that we'll be off then, shall I? [He doesn't need an answer back, since he's already pushing himself up from his comfortable chair, his mind going over what to pack and what, if anything, he'll be able to write about his weekend getaway.]