Hi everyone!

First, I'd like to thank you for all the reviews and feedback; I really never thought anyone would really like it. Second, enjoy! ^w^

Disclaimer: I still don't own Sherlock, John, Mycroft or any other characters from BBC's Sherlock…no matter how much I want to…

Plan in Action

Mycroft's POV

The day had begun, from anyone else's standpoint, as it normally did. Anthea woke him up promptly, he indulged in his morning meal, and clad himself in his usual daywear before departing his flat in the standard, anonymous, black polished car. As such, anyone else would be wrong. Though the actions had been completed just the same as every other day, they were performed in a very different state of mind.

Amid the various political plots and schemes systematizing themselves in his mind there were plots and schemes of a more amorous nature, more specifically on how to make his brother see them as romantic and for John to not. He also couldn't be as speedy with this as he would've liked. The easiest way for Sherlock to confront his own emotions towards the doctor, would be to make him perceive them as being threatened. After having reviewed John's work schedule two nights ago he had determined that this morning would be the optimum opportunity, John's day off coinciding quite nicely with Sherlock at the flat with no case, in short, perfect.

"Baker Street" He informed the driver placing his umbrella atop his knees, looking out at the streets of London.

Mycroft arrived on Baker Street within a reasonable timeframe and let himself out. Strolling up to the door of 221b he was mildly surprised to find himself feeling slightly anxious. As he knocked on the door he idly wondered of this was how his little brother felt when first presented with a case. He bushed the thought aside and made his face carefully blank as Mrs. Hudson opened the door. He walked by, nodding a greeting to her, which was received and reciprocated. He made his way upstairs ignoring her warnings of 'Sherlock's in a mood'.

Mycroft was greeted with a shrieking recital courtesy of consulting detective, lasting a few minutes before,

"Mycroft if you're here for a case, I regret to inform you tha-"

"I'm here for John actually" The briefest flash of surprise followed by barest hint of anger, ending with the sharp snap of his jaw told Mycroft that he had indeed been correct in his assumption. Sherlock was still very much under the impression that John was his. The narrowing of Sherlock's quicksilver eyes in his direction only confirmed what he was well aware of, Sherlock didn't want to share.

There was a rustle in the kitchen before John popped his head around "me?"

"Yes, you" John's body followed his head as cautiously paced into the room. His limp was back.

"Can I ask why?" Sherlock's eyes had yet to even glance at John. John shifted off his bad leg.

"Most certainly, I wanted to see how you were, health-wise, as I hadn't had much of an opportunity since the hospital." Sherlock's eyes were now fixedly studying the strings of his violin.

"I'm as well as one could expect, but that's not the only reason you're here." Sherlock's head whipped up to look at his brother. Interesting.

''Quite right Doctor, I wanted see if you cared to have a chat with me over brunch." Those stormy orbs were trained firmly on him now, scowl etched decisively on his face.

"A chat over brunch? And you're actually asking me?" Now John was looking at him as well, bemused but he didn't seem overly bothered.

"I f you would prefer I could always have my car pick you up on your way to th-"

"No-no that's fine, I'll just go and get my coat, bit nippy out." Mycroft watched the army doctor glance around the room before heading (limping) to the stairs leading to his room.

"Something to ask, dear brother" turning back to meet his younger sibling's glare.

"What do you want from him Mycroft" rather bit of bite to that last.

"Exactly what I said 'Lockie" Sherlock visibly bristled at the use of the long forgotten nickname.

"'Lockie?" The doctor now donned a forest green jacket, left unzipped showing the cream cable knit jumper underneath. His dark tan trousers and coffee colored shoes completed a look that was clearly 'John'.

"Old nickname." Mycroft provided gesturing to the door with his umbrella. John nodded to his answer and, calling 'later Sherlock', moved to leave, Mycroft nodded his goodbyes and followed.

John's POV

John had once had a patient whose wife had wanted to add some spice to their marriage. So, as present for his birthday, she called an old friend who'd been her roommate at uni and had been a friend to both ever since they'd started dating. When poor man's birthday arrived he was happy as a lark to find his present waiting for him in the bedroom. What the friend hadn't told the wife was that she had brought a couple of toys. So when the man and his wife started to get busy, so did she. One 'opps', a squabble or two, a brief panic attack and a very embarrassing cab ride later John had had the awkward job of helping poor man.

John could now definitely say that having brunch with Mycroft (well he had brunch, Mycroft had tea) was worse. (Though not by much) Not to say that Mycroft was doing anything particularly strange, but that's just it, Mycroft was sitting here talking with him like an old mate. Their conversation had thus far included both of their favorite breakfast foods, John's health, John's rugby teams, their preferences of tea or coffee, how the weather was (the weather people!) If it wasn't for his appearance and that damned umbrella, John was certain he could be talking to Mike or catching up with one of his mates from his army days! Not his flat mate and supposed best friend's (John wasn't too sure on that bit at the moment) Arch-enemy. Right, 'bout time to figure out what was going on.

"Mycroft" John spoke while fixing his tea "what exactly are you doing"

"I'm not doing anything" Mycroft didn't even bat an eyelash. John didn't know why he expected anything more as he gazed evenly at the man across from him. He was silent for a while before asking

"Will whatever it is you're not doing in anyway negatively affect Sherlock, or anyone else we know?" Mycroft smiled lightly before replying with

"Not that I am aware." John nodded, picking up his cup.

"Right then, carry on." He took a drink.

When John got back to the flat he was greeted with the bang, bang, bang that told him first, that Sherlock had been in his room again, second that the insane man he lived and worked with was either hideously bored, or destructively irate, and third, that he was going to have to smooth down quite a couple of ruffled feathers from their landlady before the day was through. Maybe he should have taken a second cup of tea. Or his mind said you could've not fancied your insane, sociopathic, brilliant, idiotic flat mate who is completely NOT interested. Yeah, or that.

YAY! 'Nother chapter. Hope you guys liked it. Review please, I always love feedback. Also if anyone has any ideas for other 'dates' for Mycroft to take John out on, I would love to hear them.

Thanks for reading! ^w^