From cjnwriter: A welcoming home after a long day
"And how are the new digs?" Mycroft Holmes reached for the plate of potatoes, piling a generous portion onto his plate before offering them to his brother who raised a hand in refusal. "A fair sight better than that dingy bolthole in Montague Street, I'd wager."
"Closer to my work, roomier, warmer," Sherlock agreed, chasing a sprout about his plate unenthusiastically. It was a tradition of the brothers to share Christmas dinner each year, but one the younger Holmes was not overly fond of. "The landlady is far more understanding too, doesn't mind me coming and going at odd hours."
"And your flatmate?" Mycroft pushed, digging into his own meal with gusto. "An ex-army surgeon? I confess myself surprised that such a man would be accommodating of your more eccentric habits."
"Oh, Watson is fine," Sherlock said dismissively. His focus was still on the elusive sprout, and so he didn't note the curiousity that sparked in Mycroft's gaze. "He keeps odd hours too."
"And where is he for Christmas? With his own brother?"
Sherlock didn't question how Mycroft knew of Watson's brother, simply replied, "I would imagine so."
Mycroft picked up his sherry glass, hiding a smile in it as he took a large gulp. "Still, it must be rather pleasant, coming back to a welcoming home after a long day. I always thought you must be rather lonely on Montague Street."
"I am solitary by nature."
"I am solitary by nature," Mycroft corrected. "You have been solitary by circumstance. Perhaps now that fortune deems otherwise, you will find you enjoy the Doctor's company."
Sherlock cleared his throat, suddenly awkward. "Yes, well. How are things faring with that consulate business?"
Mycroft allowed the change of subject, having no wish to embarrass his brother with further talk of friendship. Still, he had always been the smarter of them both, and possessed an almost prophetic gift of deduction. He had a feeling this Doctor Watson would be in his brother's life for a long time to come.