AN: I know it's short but...oh well.

(Also if you're into S/J I started a new story called Let Somebody In and if you haven't yet and want more Holmes brother's growing up etc check out Brother's...)

Thank you guys for reading and commenting etc!


John trudged home, hoping against hope that Sherlock would be out somewhere. He wasn't in the mood for another Holmes conversation, but no such luck as the man in question was lounging on the sofa.

"Richer now?" Sherlock intones accusingly.

"What you on about?" he shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it up, heading off to make tea.

"I know you saw my brother again, so…"

"Not that who I see is any of your business," John informs him potting about the kitchen, "But we just talked, yea."

"Please," he sneers, "My brother only talks when he gets something out of it, now explain."

"Mycroft's not as sinister as you make him out to be Sherlock… We just had a chat, looking out for his baby brother."

Sherlock quirks a brow at that, "Do speak plainly, and it would be good to remember not to underestimate what he's capable of."

"Plainly," he sighs thinking how best to phrase it, "Well your brother was making sure your new mate, me, had your best interests at heart."

"As hard to believe as that is…" he thinks for a beat before he realizes something, "I see, so he's getting the milk for free… as they say," he picks up the laptop.

"No, no, Sherlock." John corrects, "I'm not spying for him and I don't pretend to know what's been mucked up between the two of you, but… it's a at wits end thing… if ya will."

"Meaning…" he leads.

"Meaning, that if you're in a crisis or need help that I can't provide or you won't accept there's someone to turn to."

"God, he's so predictable," Sherlock sighs in irritation. "Alright then, let's hear…" he sits up to turn his accusing glare at John. "What deplorable things did he tell you about me?"

"Not much," he shrugs sitting his stuffed chair. "Is beating around the bush a Holmes thing, hmm?"

"So not a lot of details…"

"No, I know it was cocaine, or a solution of it…" John sips his tea, his manner clinical like he was dealing with a patient, "Started as an experiment, but he didn't say your reasoning for continuing… I doubt he knows it actually," he sighs.

"Does there need to be one?"

"I reckon so," he answers earnestly, "I doubt you of all people wouldn't have a logical reason for doing something… then again you can be quite stupid sometimes." He smirks a bit in jest.

"Right," Sherlock nods pensively, his mind turning things over, "I'm clean, case you were wondering… I'm not sure I like you fraternizing with the enemy, but there's probably no stopping you." He stands up, "Let's not talk about this again," he adds darkly, before striding off to his bedroom leaving a confused flat-mate in his wake.


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