The silence in the room when John returned was palpable, and as he put the tray bearing three steaming mugs of tea and a plate piled high with buttered toast onto the coffee table he glanced at the Holmes brothers.
"Look," he said reasonably, taking a seat on the couch. "What's the difference between me living here with Sherlock not knowing what he really is, and me living here with one of only two remaining dragons and doing my best to keep him safe?"
Sherlock smirked at Mycroft. Mycroft just gazed at John as if he were a simpleton.
"No seriously Mycroft, tell me what your problem with this is? Because as I see it it's a win win situation all round, your brother doesn't have to worry about finding another flatmate and keeping it a secret, I don't have to find another flat…." He paused, catching something cold in Mycroft's expression. "Or were you planning on making me disappear?"
"No!" Sherlock's tea slopped onto the table as he banged his mug down in anger. "You won't do it Mycroft, I won't let you."
"You couldn't stop me." Mycroft's words were cold and hard, and John felt a chill run down his spine.
"You think not?" Sherlock expression became calculating. "Do it and I show the world what we are, brother."