John woke to strange surroundings, voices and a knocking sound. It took him a moment to remember where he was. Looking over at the clock, he saw that it had gone 9 in the morning. The television was still on, accounting for the voices. The knocking came again from the hotel room door. "One moment," the doctor called as he got out of bed and threw on his dressing gown. He didn't remember falling asleep and had to stop to turn off the telly.

When John peered through the peep hole in the door, he sighed, then stepped back and opened the door. "Come in, Mycroft." Of course the government official had located him and was here. What else had he expected? He waited until the other man had entered, then closed the door and followed him to the chairs where they each took a seat.

Mycroft leant his umbrella against the chair arm, then gave the doctor a thin smile. "Good morning, John. Are you enjoying your little holiday?"

Not bothering to answer, John asked with a sinking feeling, "Does he know I'm here?"

"Not as of yet, obviously. If he did, he would already be here. No, I desired to speak with you before making the decision to inform him of your location." Mycroft studied his fingernails. "Although, you should know he has texted me incessantly and even phoned twice."

Anger flared hot in the doctor. "Oh, I go missing and he suddenly remembers how to text and make a call. That's just great. Your brother's a right arse, you know that."

"Have you ever heard me say otherwise?" The government official studied John, then nodded. "Ah. I see. That's the way of it." He stood, taking up his umbrella by the handle.

The doctor shot to his feet. "What do you mean 'I see'?" John asked. Bloody Holmeses and their bloody deductive skills, he thought. They would drive him mad yet.

"I applaud your intentions, doctor, now that I know you don't plan on leaving my brother permanently. If you succeed in teaching him a lesson, I shall thank you." Mycroft gave John a marginally broader smile than normal. "He does endanger himself far too often without calling for backup. I would much prefer he depend on you and keep you informed of his activities. He has never consented to do so with me or that Detective Inspector he works with. I'm sure it's quite worrisome for you not to know if he's merely lost in thought somewhere, kidnapped or worse. It's a problem that has plagued me for years."

"Um, right. Thanks, I think." He thought there had been some sort of compliment in there, but he wasn't certain. John took a deep breath. "So you won't tell Sherlock where I am." It was a question disguised as a statement.

"Indeed not. That is, not unless I feel he is about to do something... inadvisable," Mycroft said seriously. "In that event, the little lesson shall be cancelled."

The doctor nodded his understanding. He didn't need an explanation about what Mycroft meant by 'inadvisable'. John knew all too well what was implied. "Thank you, Mycroft." When the government official didn't move immediately to the door, John asked, "Was there something else?"

"Yes. Call that Detective Inspector friend of yours and let him know where you are. I imagine Sherlock has been driving him to distraction. Let the poor man know your not dead. I'm sure you can trust him to keep your secret."

John blinked. He felt suddenly guilty. He hadn't thought about poor Greg or even Mycroft for that matter. "Of course. I'll do that. Thanks."

At that, Mycroft let himself out of the hotel room, leaving the doctor to make his phone call.