Mycroft Holmes was sipping his coffee. The villa was quiet, & the sun shone through the beveled windows, creating a smattering of light touching all aspects of the room. The eating area was adjacent to the kitchen, so when he needed refilling, he was only an arm's reach away. He sat reflecting on the holiday thus far while glancing the Times. Only a few days in, & he already felt better. No suit wearing, no urgent calls (though he had his mobile if an emergency beckoned); just tranquility. He believed that perhaps the place itself teemed with the stuff. Tranquil. Mycroft. How absurdly unthinkable.
"Good morning Mycroft."
"Morning Sherlock. Sleep well?"
"Curiously, yes. Since I got here. Quite well," he said, as he poured himself out some coffee.
"As have I. It's the air, perhaps."
"It's the idleness."
"Really, Sherlock. I believe you are being recusant purposefully."
"Don't be absurd. But truly, when our minds are without useful occupation, they become stagnant. Dull. Ordinary...sleepy. You & I are not unlike, brother. I know that you are sleeping well for the same reason I am."
Mycroft looked at his brother a moment. He thought about responding to his diatribe, but thought the better of it. Best not stir things, he had promised himself he'd be on good behavior. "Have you plans for today, then?"
"Have you?" He eyed him curiously. He hadn't seen Mycroft much since their arrival. They had shared dinner together, but that was really all he could boast.
"I thought about taking a walk down to the harbor. Perhaps exploring what wonders the sea holds."
"Will you swim?" Sherlock was smiling. The thought of his brother in swim trunks was laughable.
"No, no. Just a leisurely constitutional. Take in some of this lovely island. Care to join me?"
"No. I think I'll hang back. Perhaps tomorrow, if you enjoy it, I'll join you." Mycroft nodded & stood.
"Whatever your pleasure. I'm going to get on my way...no sense in hanging about. I'll return around dinner." And off he went.

Molly was readying herself for a dip in the pool on Mary's insistence. She really simply wished to spend the remainder of the day in the garden with Tolstoy, but Mary had indicated that Molly was missing the point of the holiday. Not at she couldn't read, but that she needed to enjoy other things, too. Why not try out the bikini?
She was exceedingly uncomfortable. She fidgeted with the straps. She attempted to cover more of herself with the material. No good. She sighed, & put on the cover-up. She wondered for a moment where Sherlock was. She couldn't decide if she wanted him to see her like this or not.
When she did see him, she decided she'd rather him not see her.
He was poolside, in sunglasses, reading. But oh, thought Molly, he looks so...dashing. Even in swim trunks; he had on a white tee shirt, black trunks. The shirt hugged him in a most flattering manner. He hadn't looked up.
She stood there, feeling ridiculous. Where were John & Mary? She decided standing there in her cover up wouldn't do, so she began to make her way towards a chair near where he sat.
"Hello, Molly. Haven't seen you all day."
"No...I..." Dammit, he was good looking. Stop it, she thought. So silly of her. "No. I've read in the garden most of the day," and she sat. "What are you reading?"
He looked at the volume. "Leaves of Grass. A chap called..."
"Oh! Whitman. Yes, I've read bits. Poetry isn't really my thing, but every so often..." Her voice trailed.
"No. Nor mine. But this fellow's alright. All I could find, really. Somehow my reference books seemed too heavy to bring poolside."
"There are loads of books in my room. Fiction, non-fiction..." She blushed. "I mean, if you dislike poetry."
"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind. For now," he opened the book to where he had been reading. "A Song of Myself will do," & he smiled.
Mary then emerged suited for swimming, "Ready, Molls? Lets take a dip." And she dove in.
"Oh...ok." Molly cringed. The thought of being so near Sherlock when she took off her cover up to reveal her skimpy suit underneath was maddening. She was not that girl, & she desperately didn't want anyone - especially him - to think that she was. Blast it.
He was watching Mary swim when he glanced at Molly taking off that silly smock she wore. There was Molly Hooper, barely clothed. His mouth hung agape for a fraction of a second. Her pale skin looking even more so next to the black of the suit. Her light brown hair cascading down her back. The contours of her shape, curved, lean, all gave him pause. He had never noticed how terribly enticing she was. She moved, as if in slow motion, to the pool, & dove in with Mary. It snapped him out of his reverie.
"Coming in, Sherlock?" Called out Mary. "John is getting ready."
"No. No...I think I'll just..." He wasn't sure what he was going to do. Thankfully, John arrived & spared him explanation.
John Watson dove in with the two women, & Sherlock Holmes got up to take his leave. He found that he needed a moment. Perhaps a cold shower.
No one noticed this abrupt departure except Mary, & she eyed Molly knowingly.