/Now./
Turning a photograph over in his hands John studied the people in it. Merry and Mycroft were caught mid motion spinning across a dance floor. It was a casual, informal sort of picture. Mycroft was dressed only in slacks and a button down shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and Merry's short party dress had kicked up and caught air as he spun her, showing off a bit of thigh.
"So, what, they dated?" John asked. "Your friend Merry and Mycroft?"
Sally hmmmm'd from behind her cup of tea. "He was the oldest guy she'd ever dated. And the nicest. She could come up with some real tossers, believe me, but he treated her like she hung the moon."
"So what happened?" he asked. "They broke up? She couldn't handle the whole secrecy thing?"
Sally shook her head.