((WHEEYHEEY two in one day? Whaat? Well, since I'm such a terrible person, and wrote these short, I figured I owed you guys. Cuz the two together equals like…. One and a half. As always, I do apologize for the shortness. I love you guys ever so much, and I will try to work on writing the next ones LONGER. Boom. That's right. Erm, this next point might be useless. You might be like 'pft, I don't give a fuck.' And if so, then okay. But whenever I read, I like to know, idk… like who wrote it. SO. Pictures of my face here: .com/thegirlbehindtheblog. That also links to my blog, where you can see how I have no life and how I have no friends. Awh yeah. Bonus. Usually I'm really quite shy and secretive about my writing, but I guess to Hell with that, yeah? Also, if you have Twitter, you can find me at ViccyKat. Send me a tweet just like… "ViccyKat BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH IS A SEX GOD". Or something about CumberOtters or Martin Freeman Hedgehogs… I will laugh for days. And yeaah, that's pretty much it. Much love. Really and truthfully. Xx- Tori))

"Hello Rose."

I smiled, and accepted the drink that was offered to me.

"Hello Mycroft. I was wondering when I'd be seeing you again. How've you been?"

He smirked, and sipped his drink.

"I've been the same. And you, Miss O'Hara?"

He spoke my name sarcastically. I sighed.

"I've been quite well, thank you."

I looked out the window, a tense silence settling over us. I racked my mind to see if I could figure out why I was here. I hadn't seen him in a while, not since I'd moved to London. So… Why now? Had something happened? Maybe something had, and he thought that I…

"I haven't seen him, Mycroft."

I could hear the smile in his tired voice when he spoke again.

"I know."

I half laughed, and looked over him, shaking my head.

"Of course you know."

Swirling my drink, I looked around the plush, expensive car. It was just like Mycroft's taste, this was. The posh-ness of it all. I spoke again, watching him curiously, looking for any type of clue as to what he wanted from me.

"Alright. Well… Have you seen my brother lately?"

He shook his head, and that's when I noticed how truly exhausted and haggard he looked.

"No. I haven't… But I understand you've been seeing mine. Exclusively."

My eyebrows arched. Ah. Now I see.

"I'm not sure what you'd call it, but yes, Sherlock and I are… Something."

Mycroft nodded, and gave me a wan smile.

"I suppose it would be cliché to give the classic 'big brother' speech, but I feel I must… Sherlock is fragile, Miss O'Hara. He seems like he isn't, but it's the exact opposite. And I have gone through too much to secure him… To secure his wholeness, and health, and sanity… To have it ruined. To have him ruined. Sherlock is… the most important part of my life. I failed to keep him safe the first 20 years of his life, and he was almost lost for good. And I will not let that happen again. He may not think he needs me, but he does. And it would be such a shame if something were to happen to him, on my watch. I'd take care of it. Understood?"

"Crystal clear, Mycroft."

He gave me a curt bob of his head, and I gazed out the window again, wondering where in Hell we were going. So all he'd wanted was a talk? Typical.

"You know you can just come to flat for a cuppa instead of kidnapping me, right?"

Mycroft waved my words away.

"This works better for me."

I nodded, just accepting his words. He spoke again.

"So. Do you love him?"

I looked up at him, immediately sensing the alternate meaning, the accusation, behind his words. I glared at him icily, and he gazed back, unfazed.

"You know me, Mycroft. What is it? Going on 4 years now? You know to trust me, you git. I wasn't even planning on meeting Sherlock! It just HAPPENED. I can't believe you would even THINK that I'd…"

I trailed off, fuming. He smiled at me, an actual real small, a bit of affection in it.

"As spirited as always I see."

I sighed at him, and ran my fingers through my hair. I couldn't stay mad at Mycroft. He was as infuriating as Sherlock, if not more, but we'd been through too much together.

"Myc… Your brother… is amazing. It's hard of course- you know how he is. But I love it. It's… Different. He's different. And sometimes I want to kill him. But this is real, Mycroft. At least… What I feel is real. I just… Want to be normal. Although I'll admit, trying to have a relationship with Sherlock probably doesn't help... But… You don't have to worry, Mycroft. I know what you're thinking. It's false."

I finished my drink, watching him study me. He smirked at me, and cleared his throat.

"He doesn't know, does he?"

I shook my head.

"Of course not. And I plan on him never finding it out. I like to pretend it's not true myself. Got it?"

He smiled sadly at me, and gulped down the rest of his drink in a very 'non-Mycrofty' way.

"He is Sherlock. He will find out one day… But not from me, Rose. You can hold me to that."

Mycroft leaned forward to touch my knee, and I returned his unhappy smile.

"Maybe he will… Maybe he won't. But that's a risk I'm willing to take… If you can I can rid of the… "problem"…Before Sherlock catches on; it'll be the best for all of us."

Mycroft nodded stiffly.

"But he has no idea?"

I smiled.

"Not even an inkling."

The car slowed to a stop, and I noticed we were parked outside my flat.

"Good. Keep it that way."

Mycroft demanded, before opening the door for me. I stepped out onto the sidewalk, giving him a nod.

"Always a pleasure, Mr. Holmes."

He smiled almost cheekily, and inclined his head slightly towards me.

"Yes. I'll be in touch, Miss O'Hara."

Then he shut the door, and I watched the car slowly drive away.