John's P.O.V
The air was damp as John walked down the dark London streets. Luckily the rain had stopped, though.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Hey, John. Are you almost done? Getting' lonely here. Heh. –CM 7:32pm
John smiled a bit at the text. It warmed his heart.
Yeah, I'm heading back now. Shouldn't be too long. – JW 7:34pm
Alright. Gonna hop in the shower really quick. Should be out by the time you get here. –CM 7:35pm
What's on the agenda tonight? ^_^ – CM 7:35pm
John was taken aback. Did she want to spend more time with him?
Well, we have to fill you in. After that, play it by ear? – JW 7:37pm
Sounds good. Cya soon. –CM 7:37pm
He was replaying the past 48 hours in his head. From his first breath-taking view of Christiane Madrigal on his doorstep to his infuriatingly dejecting walk-away from Sherlock as he got into the cab. He knew Sherlock was going back to the flat. And he knew that Sherlock was going to try to woo Christiane.
Selfish git. Everything has to be about what benefits him. He can't bothered to be think about a single other person for 30 seconds. For him, that's more than enough time to figure out what in bloody hell is actually happening. Christiane plainly told me that Sherlock is abrasive. If he tries to get off with her, he's going to chase her off.
John exhaled sharply, seeing his breath in the autumn air.
He was still quite a long distance from home, and decided to hop into a cab. Instead, a long black, elegant car pulled up next to him. John sighed. The window rolled down.
"I don't really have time to visit Mycroft now," John said turning to the car. He was shocked at what he saw. It was Mycroft himself.
"I understand that, John Watson. That's why I came out myself. Please. I will drive you to Baker Street." Mycroft was formal, but also there was something softer in his voice.
Mycroft's chauffeur pulled open the opposite door for John, and he cautiously got in, not knowing what to expect.
"There is a young woman that approached you and Sherlock about a case yesterday. The case is now completed, correct?" Mycroft started.
"Yes. I know you know that, Mycroft. Please get to the point." John was tired and impatient.
"She is extremely interesting and extremely intelligent. But Sherlock will break her. She is not as tough as she seems. She and I have a personal connection. She has aided me in several endeavors in America. I owe her much. I will be cross if Sherlock harms her in any way. "
"Personal connection." Is Mycroft saying she's his friend? Hah! Mycroft doesn't have friends. What does he think Sherlock would do? I already know her confidence is an act.
"I don't know what you want me to do. Sherlock wants what he wants. He has no consideration of human emotion." John spit bitterly.
"This is true, John. You are the doctor and the corpsman. Protect her from his arsenal." They pulled up in front of 221B Baker Street.
John was about to get out of the limousine.
"One more thing, John." Mycroft was looking at John very carefully. "As much as I wish it were not the case, Christiane will not have me. However, I would not see her in the hands of my reckless younger brother." Mycroft paused, "I would not oppose to a man such as yourself as a cornerstone of her life. You straightened out Sherlock well enough, and Christiane could use a little doctoring herself." John nodded to Mycroft and headed up the walk to the flat door, pulling his keys out of his pocket.
I have Mycroft's blessing over his own brother. Odd. Christiane must be much more damaged than she lets on…
John walked into the flat and froze. His soldier reflexes kicked in and he was assessing the danger of the situation. But all he could do was stare. His mortification glued his feet in place. I knew this was a horrible situation…