Here comes already chapter 2.

Only Mycrofts POV this time but longer than the last chapter instead.

Reviews, please?:D


A few hours later:

Mycrofts POV

He finished all of his paperwork in time, left instructions for the remaining staff, bid his goodbye to Anthea and was now on his way to Sherlocks and Johns flat. The black car sought its way through the street maze of London while Mycroft simply stared out of its window and tried to come up with a reasonable explanation for his unusual behaviour. Needless to say, that he wasn't that successful.

Faster than he had anticipated the car had reached its destination and Mycroft had to climb out. He told his driver that he should wait somewhere near, that it wouldn't be a matter of long time. Then he took a deep breath that only a trained eye would have noticed, before he walked straight to the door of 221b Baker Street and knocked three times.

At first nothing happened, then a rustle of excited feet came nearer, until Mrs. Hudson opened the front door, a healthy blush on her cheeks from all the walking. „Hello Mr. Holmes, it has been a long time.", she covered her surpise at his sight quite well. „Come in, come in, Mr. Lestrade and Ms. Hooper have already arrived, so there's only Mary still missing.", „Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. I will see myself up, then."

He bowed his head and strode past her. Hesitantly but without faltering in his steps he climbed the stairs and reached the door to Sherlocks realm. He entered the living room and stopped then after three steps, feeling slightly embarrassed at the sight of Sherlock, John, Ms. Hooper and Mr. Lestrade staring at him, surprised that he actually came despite knowing of his confirmation.

„Chrm, well, isn't this a cozy assembly?", he broke the silence with a large ammount of irony. Not really polite but it had the purposefully effect of waking Sherlock out of his rigidity. „At least he isn't ill... Well, hello, brother, don't you have any crises to prevent or other governmental duties to accomplish?", „No, for once I thought my time would be better spent over bonding time with my dear little baby brother. If I think about it – I must have been in quite a state to have such ridiculous ideas..." It was a large internal struggle Mycroft had to meet to bring those words out without raising suspicion. Because under the fake irony had laid the truth, hidden, but still there for him to feel. He needed his brother on this day. But as he looked at Sherlock, getting out of his chair and talking all 'no, not ill, just his usual insufferable self' without even giving him a glance any longer he knew he forgot it again. And didn't even care.

Mycroft collected his thoughts, banning everything concerning forgotten birthdays in the darkest corner of his mind and aimed concentration to surviving the evening. He started a relatively uninteresting but 'normal' conservation with Lestrade about the current policy and changes in the system of the police departments and even remembered his good upbringing long enough to compliment Ms. Hooper on her obviously new dress. Light green with yellow dots – not exactly his taste but who was he to judge.

Then eventually John called them for dinner and he could escape the tense atmosphere. Tense at least in his eyes. Fortunately Mary had arrived in the meantime. She managed to make everyone more at ease, so they were actually able to enjoy the food and company. John, or Mrs. Hudson more likely had made a delicious lasagne with a salad and Lestrade had provided wine for everyone. But the main reason Mycroft hadn't already left – beside that he had a pride to defend – was that Sherlock had started a conversation with him on his own initiative. He couldn't remember when it was the last time something like that had happened.

They talked about a newly invented antidote to a viral infection and how it could be improved, then about the developement of the latest studies of possible anti-cancer serums with different approaches to the matter and lastly about the lasagne and how it could almost be compared to their mothers. Completely unexpected as it was, Mycroft enjoyed every second of it and reveled in the fact, that it was Sherlock who started the whole affair.

But like always Sherlock was only fixed on one topic for a limited time, before something else captured his attention, so it was hardly a surprise when he turned away from Mycroft mid-sentence and started a discussion about different types of tobacco and how that could be important in chasing and convicting criminals with Lestrade.

Mycroft remained sitting there as lost as before, observing the chattering of the others like the outsider he felt himself to be. He drank solemnly of his wine and decided to call it an end. He never was one to miss the cue to leave. So he stood up silently, thanked Mrs. Hudson for her delightful cooking and said his goodbyes. He didn't think that anyone despite the ever polite Molly Hooper actually realised his retreat, but forced himself to stop caring. He called his driver to pick him up at the front door and smoked a cigarette, deep in thoughts but nonetheless aware of his surroundings. Stay always alerted! Alerted and emotional indifferent! It had always been his motto.

When he finally reached home he laid his cloak and umbrella aside and walked to his living room. Out of a wooden drawer he took a bottle and poured himself a glass of scotch.

„Happy birthday, Mycroft Holmes!", he spoke silently into the empty room and emptied the glass.


I know I know, not that much interaction between the brothers, but the real confrontation is yet to come. Mycroft's still denying and Sherlock ignoring, so it is only a matter of time... :D