It was a cold brisk morning in London when Mycroft had exited his car, quickly telling Anthea to come back in 30 minutes. Mycroft did not deter his way from work this morning because he had a task that had required his brothers certain expertise or for a friendly chat. He was here because a recent development had ensured that his brothers most recent flatmate had moved out, something that has been rather prominent since Sherlock had taken up residence in 221B Baker St and never seemed to come to a surprise.
Quickly using the knocker on the door and straightening it once more he was greeted with the appearance of Mrs. Hudson. Mrs. Hudson was an elderly looking woman in about her mid-sixties whom had quite an adventurous life as one would put it. Just by looking, Mycroft had already deducted that the woman had once been an exotic dancer at some point in her life which caused a hip injury, has a sister and a husband that lead an equally adventurous life as , although has passed. However, doesn't wear her wedding rings on her person and therefore must not miss her husband too much. Her dilated pupils also indicated that the woman was also one to frequently use soothers of a herbal nature to eliminate pain in her hip.
"Hello, you must be " Mycroft stated raising the pitch of his voice ever so slightly to sound kind. It's often difficult to appear friendly when the people move so slowly around you, almost as if one is a sailfish surrounded by a tank of goldfish, makes everything quite boring actually.
"Yes, that's me, have you come to check out the flat 221B? it is in need of an extra flatmate and iv'e been trying to get someone in to take 221C but it is rather damp, that is the problem with basement flats. When I was first married the first flat that me and my husband had moved into was full of black mould." Mrs. Hudson continued to ramble on as Mycroft continued to nod at the conversation whilst going over his deductions about the woman at hand. It seemed that Mrs. Hudson was not completely over her husbands death, just not as sentimental as the regular goldfish would be.
"Actually I have come to visit my brother Sherlock. I have been told that he is in flat 221B." Mycroft had quickly interrupted the woman's ramblings as she went on to talk about her career as an exotic dancer before she met her husband Frank.
"Yes, Of course, right this way". Mrs. Hudson preceded to open the door and turned and started walking up a rather dark staircase, as she continued to ramble about her past life and a sister that Mycroft didn't catch the name of. From what Mycroft could tell the flat had been in relatively good shape, the only issue being that some of the wall paper would need to be replaced soon. As they reached the door to 221B Mrs Hudson quickly knocked on the door before proceeding to enter the flat in which Mycroft thought was rather distasteful and unbecoming.
"Good Morning Sherlock, You have a visitor… Oh Sherlock the mess you made!" quickly scanning the flat it looked as if a hurricane had stormed through the flat and Mycroft had wondered how two children with the same upbringing could be so different with himself possibly having OCD and the other have everything in complete disarray. Of course if one had told Sherlock this he would state that everything had a perfect place to go and because one cannot understand his method of filing then one must be a complete ignoramus.
"Morning , Morning Mycroft…Have you been putting on weight again?" Sherlock asked, sitting in his chair. the tone of his voice indicted that he knew exactly why Mycroft had paid him a visit this morning.
"Losing it actually." Mycroft replied, obviously annoyed at the younger Holmes planted disregard for the matter at hand.
"Then it seems the diet has been rather ineffective, I deduce that you have put on 4 pounds since the last time we had the pleasure of meeting."
"3 and half actually." the elder continued.
"No, it's 4 with breakfast." Sherlock said amused smile in place that did nothing but irritate the elder Holmes brother more.
"Would anyone like Tea?" Mrs. Hudson asked, sensing the tension that could be cut by a butter knife.
"No thank you Mrs Hudson, Mycroft will be leaving soon. I do believe you are late for date though, better hurry." Sherlock had answered and ensured Mrs. Hudson to quickly dash out of the flat and into her own, presumably to get ready.
"Does she know that she she is dating a married man?" Mycroft inquired once she left the room.
"No, not yet but this is not love connection brother, what is it that you want?"
Mycroft had stopped pacing about the messy flat and looked at his younger brother straight on. "What I want dear brother mine is for you to stop chasing away your flatmates."
"Then stop having them monitor me, I am not an adult and having someone constantly looking over my shoulder is not good for brain work." Sherlock stated in his monotone voice, looking at his watch and preceding to enter the kitchen and pulling out ingredients from the fridge and turning the stove on, it appeared that he was making scrambled eggs.
"I presume you don't have any cases on today because you are still in you night wear, change before you influence everyone in this complex with your ridiculous behaviour." He ridiculed.
"Yes wearing night wear is a bit of a bad habit. However, I do think your consumption of anything sweet is also rather ridiculous and that is the reason for your recent weight gain." Sherlock turned amused at his brother sour expression. "Now, why are you here again brother." He stated calmly.
"Your flatmate."
"Yes, what about him, or she. I seem to have deleted them in order for new information." Sherlock said, bored of the nature of this conversation.
"You played your violin at exactly 2:32 am every morning for the last 2 weeks until they left the flat. The one before, you stored severed limbs in their wardrobe -It was an experiment- no matter and the one before that you had them flown out of the country because you convinced them they had won the lotto." Mycroft stated, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling the impending headache coming on.
"What is your point in all this brother, what does it matter besides you having someone to monitor every movement I make."
"very well, if it makes you feel better I will stop having people monitor you while under the impression that they are your new flatmate, does that suit you better brother mine." Mycroft said already exhausted even though the day had barley even begun. Sherlock antics had a way of driving people up the wall and making them wish to fall back off in order to get away from him.
"Thank you brother, it would be very much appreciated." Sherlock said as he plated up the scrambled eggs and what appeared to be some bacon on a plate before exiting back into the sitting room and entering the door to his right. Emerging shortly after with a little girl in his arms who was almost two years of age, tiredly rubbing her eyes.
The small girl had long pin-spright black hair that had reached the girls waist and alabaster skin, her features mostly resembling Sherlock besides her eyes which were purple, almost violet. A rare genetic trait that was in the Holmes family, the only other known to Mycroft and Sherlock with these eyes was the late great grandmother Holmes.
Sherlock had sat down on a chair in front of the freshly made food and and deposited the young girl who was still yawning into his lap and attempted to feed the small child who desperately wanted to go back to sleep.
"Good Morning Amelia, and how are you this morning." Mycroft had asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.
The small child looked at him up and down, gaining her full attention. "you got fatt-a Uncle My." The child yawned once again, completely oblivious to the sour expression on Mycroft's face. "Daddy, we go park Af-ta?" the girl questioned turning back to Sherlock who looked very amused at the situation at hand.
"If you eat all your breakfast we can." he stated and the toddler began eating her breakfast with gusto with some help form her father.
"I wish you would teach her some manners, it is rather unbecoming." Mycroft states feeling slight dejected at the child's statement.
"She a toddler, she docent know what manners are yet." he replies
"better sooner than later…anyways I must be off to work, do try to not send your flatmates running for the hills anytime soon, Goodbye Sherlock, Goodbye Amelia."
"bye-bye Uncle My." the child said enthusiastically waving her hand, gaining a small smile from the young child.
As soon as Mycroft left the building, Sherlocks full attention went back on the little girl sitting on his lap picking at bits of bacon.
"Did you hear mine and Uncle Mycrofts conversation earlier." Sherlock gently asked his daughter while pushing back the black hair that was threatening to cover her eyes. The child turned to him, purple eyes full of innocence peering at her father.
"No." The child said simply.
"Then how did you know he gained weight?"
"cause he look fatt-a dan las week." she said some eggs in her mouth still. "Uncle My silly." the little girl said.
"Why is Uncle My silly my darling?" scooping some eggs of the fork and helping her eat.
"Uncle My got Fatt-a cause he eat too many lolly, he took lolly from bowl." As soon as she stated this Sherlock turned his head towards the lolly bowl and there were quite a few missing. The only thought running though his mind at the moment was 'like father, liker daughter' as he kissed the young genius' forehead.
"We can definitely go to the park." Sherlock stated and the girl let out and excited yell.