Hiya everyone!

I'd like to thank SilverSmile, alrock6, WitchWarren and Margarette for their MDI's(Mycroft Dating Ideas) I will be sure to include them at some point in the story if I can. I'd also like to thank all the other reviewers and readers for being so nice, it really helps when I'm writing. Hope you enjoy! This one starts kinda from the middle of the last one, but from Sherlock's POV. I'm not nearly as smart as him it might turn out horribly, but I'll be switching POVs so don't worry.

Disclaimer: Still not mine

Methanol Plus Boric Acid

Sherlock's POV

Hearing the, unfortunately familiar, sound of that abominable umbrella swishing at my brother's side, I couldn't reach for my violin fast enough. Not that I had to reach far, John had made it a point place it on the coffee table whenever he found it. John said it served to both keep me from stepping on the table when Lestrade called with a case and to keep me from tearing apart the rooms looking for it when it was misplaced. John-no, I instantly cut off that train of thought, I didn't much care for the feeling that came from it.

Mycroft was in the doorway now. I offered an A sharp as a greeting. I had found that the fastest way to deal with Mycroft was to shoot him down as before he could make his demands, which I promptly did

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

"I'm here for John actually" I had not expected that and I'm sure he could see it in my eyes. It was then that the full implications of his statement became apparent; he was going to take John, MY John. I'm sure he could see that emotion to, if not in my eyes then in the click that sounded as my lower jaw met my upper.

At the sound of his name John's head popped around with a curious "me?"

"Yes, you" Not if I could help it. I was not going to keep John safe by allowing Mycroft to get his hands on him. John was walking into the room now. I refused to look at him, to confirm what my ears were hearing, that John was getting his limp back. Because of you, echoed in a deep part of my brain, I crushed it down.

"Can I ask why?" Yes Mycroft, why? Why do you want to take him?

"Most certainly, I wanted to see how you were, health-wise, as I hadn't had much of an opportunity since the hospital." I fixed my gaze to the strings of my violin. He had to pick that, didn't he? Had to bring back that damned emotion.

"I'm as well as one could expect, but that's not the only reason you're here." Mycroft's first to me had almost been overshadowed by the forcibly induced emotion. Almost.

''Quite right Doctor, I wanted see if you cared to have a chat with me over brunch." No, John didn't care to have a chat over brunch.

"A chat over brunch? And you're actually asking me?" I really hated the glint that came to my brother's eyes when he knew he was win.

"If 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." Absolutely abhorred it. I chose not to listen to John's ascending of the stairs in favor of glaring at my brother, digging up all the resentment I could find. I did not have to look far.

"Something to ask, dear brother" Yes, there is most definitely 'something to ask'

"What do you want from him Mycroft" I made sure even a deaf person could hear just how I felt.

"Exactly what I said 'Lockie" Liar!

" 'Lockie?" it didn't sound quite as bad when John said it…

"Old nickname." Mycroft answered for me, pointing that ridiculous umbrella of his at our door. Then John left with my brother at his heels, only pausing to say goodbye to me.

After the door closed I rushed towards the window to see John climbing into one of Mycroft's shiny black cars. I stood there long after I could no longer make out their car before turning around and making my way up to John's room, I needed to shoot something.

John's POV

"Sherlock, what are you doing."

When I had gotten home from my rather odd brunch I hadn't known entirely what I expected to see. What I did know was that it was not this. After hearing the shots fired from my gun I had expected that our wall had gotten a new decoration, perhaps another smiley. I had fully expected to have to offer sincere apologies to Mrs. Hudson, maybe even endure a lecture or two. As usual when one dealt with Sherlock Holmes, I was wrong.

Sherlock had set himself up a make-shift firing range. He was using my chair to steady his aim as he fired at the target pinned to an upturned table. The target of choice was a blown up picture of Mycroft, at least that's who it seemed to be. Sherlock had done a rather good job of destroying the targets face, which brings us around to my first question.

"target practice" it was quipped and edgy, but it was the best I'd gotten from him all week.

"Obviously" I quoted dryly. Sherlock had already ruined our table several times in the last few weeks.

Sherlock huffed childishly and went back to aiming at the poor possibly-Mycroft picture. I let him shoot once more before stepping in his line of fire.

"If you're quite done with your odd vendetta against the table and whatever poor sod you pinned to it, I'll be taking that." Taking back the gun and flipping on the safety, before tucking it into the back of my trousers.

"no actually, I wasn't" two multiworded answers in one sitting, I was on a roll!

"wasn't a question 'Lockie, now help me with the table." The nickname had a certain appeal to it but I think I rather preferred 'Sherlock', the word called to mind the great aura that billowed out from the man and indeed seemed perfectly suited to him.

"are you honestly going to persist on calling me that?" the name certainly suited him now with all that sniping.

"only when you're being especially insufferable." I jibed, setting the table right way up and scooting it back into its proper place.

There was no verbal response to my words but when I looked up Sherlock had that quirked smile of his curved on his lips.

I would have to have brunch with Mycroft again if it the end result was Sherlock and I bantering back and forth again like before that damn pool incident, on top of that smile. The table could bugger off.

Sorry this was so long in coming, but it's been odd balancing both this and school. I'm sure it'll get balanced out soon. Anyway, again another thanks to all the people reading this. Anyone with MDI's would be very helpful. Also, to anyone wondering about the title of this chapter, if you ingnite a mixture of methanol and boric acid you get a green flame. Next chapter will feature another Mycroft date, hope I didn't do to bad with Sherlock's POV.

Thanks for Reading! ^w^