The next morning saw John on a deck chair, surveying the beautiful beach view from the house. He sipped at his morning tea when Sherlock came out, a cup of tea in his hands. The taller man lowered himself into a large wicker deck chair and proceeded to bring his knees to his chest, sipping his tea on occasion as he watched John watch the view.
"Ahoy!"
The two men glanced over to where Lestrade stood in just a pair of jogging pants, an arm stretched above his head as he waved. John grinned and waved back as Mycroft came out onto the deck. The elder Holmes looked in their direction.
"I'm surprised you're already up, what with your vigorous activities in the night waking the dead." He sniffed in John's direction, ignoring the disapproving look Lestrade gave him.
John sputtered, his face flushing as he looked at Mycroft in shock.
"Oh, my dear brother, don't pretend it bothered you. I heard you oh so very much last night. Can't say I'm too pleased at the mental image it garnered." Sherlock drawled, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched his brother splutter and Lestrade laughing.
John went inside the beach house wondering what kind of family he joined. Lestrade was right; this would be the strangest relationship he ever be in. John just smiled he wouldn't have it any other way; this was his first real relationship and hopefully his only one. John also remembered about the Holmes not having a romantic bone in their bodies, last night felt like Sherlock was being romantic on the deck when he put his arm around him.
Right now the teen felt horrible, he had already ran to the bathroom four times this morning. He hated that nauseous feeling he got every morning; he could barely eat when he was sick, but at least he had tea.
He started to wonder if Irene had followed them. She was smart so she had to have figured out they had left the country.
John was swimming in the pool as Sherlock was inside watching him, Sherlock smiled as John enjoyed the vacation, and the teen wasn't trying to hide the mark on his chest anymore. John looked inside and smiled at Sherlock. This is what John needed; time away from everything. John got out of the pool and wrapped a towel around his body.
Lestrade came outside going over to the fence that separated the villas.
"John."
John came out from under the water and looked up to see Lestrade.
"Want to go out to lunch?"
"Yeah, let me get dried and changed." John replied, swimming over to the edge of the pool. He got out, drying himself off before rushing inside, "Sherlock, Greg's taking me out to lunch!"
"Alright, just stay with him."
"You're worried about me." John said.
"Of course." Sherlock said.
John got dressed quickly and went up to Sherlock, kissing him. The brunette watched the teen leave, "What got into him?"
Lestrade was waiting outside by the car as John came out the front door; he got in before Lestrade could say another word.
"So this is where they went." Irene murmured, making her way across from where she saw John enter the vehicle to the villa. She slowly made her way around the front of the villa before glancing in a window and seeing the brunette working on her phone.
She was about to make her way back across when a light fell onto her.
"May I help you, Madam?"
She squinted as she tried to make out the form behind the torch blasting into her eyes. All she saw was a short silhouette obviously on a phone.
"If you have no purpose here, please leave. Security already knows of your presence since they alerted me. We own this land, so please, remove yourself from the premises."
She was about to ask who was there when the door to the villa opened, "Mycroft, what's going on?"
She looked over to see Sherlock standing in the doorway, freezing when his fierce gaze landed on her.
"What are you doing here, Ms. Adler?" He sniffed, shoving her phone into his pocket. He came out in an aggressive manner, but reached out a hand to lower the torch in this 'Mycrofts' hand.
"You're blinding her." He said coldly before walking into her personal space. He went to open his mouth when the dirt near his foot kicked up. He and the other man quickly looked up and before she could say anything, Sherlock had her wrist in an iron grip and he all but threw her into the house. She fell into the other mans chest, whom she knocked over for he wasn't expecting her.
She panted, her hands and face resting on the other mans chest.
"Please, Madam, remove yourself from me. My husband would be most displeased."
She quickly straightened herself up, standing gracefully and watching the slightly chubby man right himself.
"I suggest she stays here, though if there is any funny business, just signal me from the back. I'll go inform Lestrade of this shooter and call security." Mycroft said in a clipped manner before leaving the house from the back door and heading to his villa.
Sherlock stared at her harshly and Irene finally began to feel shame.
For the most part Winterimperfect wrote the chapter.