4 years, 2 months, 2 weeks, 1 day
His eyes bulged out at the sight of Mycroft perched on a chair by the fire place. It certainly was an unexpected visit.
Some where in the back of his mind he wonders if it is to do with what he thinks he saw a few months ago, and quick as a flash he rids him self of the thought.
"Mycroft, what a pleasant surprise, to what do we owe the pleasure?" he asks, not even bothering to ask how Mycroft came to be in their flat, despite the fact that Molly is at her mother's house, and the door was locked.
"Just a house call, I'd hoped I could see the little boy, it has been such a long time."
Well make a bloody effort then. John thinks to himself.
"He's with Molly, at her mum's for the day"
"Hmmm…shame" Mycroft says in a tone that suggests to John that he actually came to talk about something else.
Breaking the silence that follows, John offers him a cup of tea, which he accepted politely.
So they sit opposite each other. Drinking their tea.
John wonders what is going on in that Holmsian mind of his, and as with Sherlock, he suspects he will never know.