Much as it had been with Sherlock, John could tell instantly that Mycroft was something new. Highly intelligent yes, but there was also something unreadable about his eyes. This was of course peculiar, Mycroft's emotions shone through like anyone else's, anyone but Sherlock's, and yet John had the distinct feeling Mycroft had learnt to control this to an extent, although that should be impossible.

He hadn't been in a Sedan before and despite the circumstances he took a moment to appreciate the sleek comfortable, leather seats before acknowledging the man who had demanded his presence.

"So?" John asked.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, "yes Dr. Watson?"

"I presume you brought me here for a reason," he tapped his foot impatiently. "Please, enlighten me."

Mycroft looked amused. "I can see why my brother likes you."

John made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat, aware the pink in his eyes had grown during the past hour.

"My point, Dr. Watson, is that you and my brother appear to have grown remarkably close in the last, say...twenty-four hours?"

"I really don't see how that's any of your business." Humans don't normally notice flashes of brief emotion, generally they're programmed to pay attention to the more steadfast colours in order to understand another's psyche. Mycroft, however, was highly trained and didn't miss the flash of defiance that momentarily cut through John's flecked irises.

"My brother is," Mycroft twirled his umbrella thoughtfully, pausing, "unusual. There are a lot of people who are interested in his lack of human emotion."

John smiled slightly. "I don't for one second believe that Sherlock is emotionless."

The car had yet to start moving and John was understanding less and less the motive behind Mycroft's bizarre interrogation, there was concern deep in the mixture of colours but John had a sneaking suspicion the reason for this discussion went beyond sibling concern.

"If you do intend to live with my brother I can ensure you are very comfortable." The silken drawl that Mycroft had perfected was a tool to coax John in. "A small sum, perhaps?"

"For what?" He felt something in the pit of his stomach, a gnawing sensation of anger beginning to simmer slowly beneath the surface, he tried not to ponder over why he felt disgust at someone trying to control Sherlock.

"Just to let me know what he's doing, when he's doing it."

"No." John didn't have to think. "Absolutely not."

The car had started to move, whether this was part of Mycroft's tactic he wasn't sure, but it did nothing to weaken his resolve, he wasn't afraid of the elder Holmes brother and Captain John Watson had never taken kindly to bribes.

Mycroft hid his surprise well, "you're very loyal, very quickly."

"No, I'm not, I'm just not interested." John's mildness as he said this only served to interest Mycroft further, this man was truly something extraordinary. They sat in a silence deemed by one to be awkward and the other fascinating, until the car slowed to a halt.

"Very well, Dr. Watson, I'm sure we'll speak again soon." John grimaced, he was sure he would do everything in his power to avoid that unpleasant notion. Mycroft oozed a smile towards him.

"221B Baker Street I believe."

John traipsed up the stairs of 221B, briefly marvelling at the lack of pain in his leg, before pushing the door open to what he now presumed, was his new flat. Sherlock wasn't back yet, not that John had expected him to be considering Lestrade's adamant insistence for a statement earlier, so he took the opportunity to properly survey his new home.

Examining the kitchen he grimaced, somehow he had a feeling the cluttered kitchen and - oh god were those fingers - were regular states of affair. He knew it was irrational and stupid, but he couldn't help the faint fondness and first tingles of excitement that went through him when he thought of living here. God he'd known the man less than a day and in that time had managed to visit a murder scene, shoot a criminal and get kidnapped by a crazy big brother.

And in the middle of that kitchen, totally alone, he burst out laughing. A few minutes later when his mirth had subsided he shook his head, still chuckling, and strode over to the seat he had already subconsciously dubbed as "mine", settling himself in it comfortably and picked up the newspaper.

Barely twenty minutes had passed before he heard the telltale thump of the door opening and someone swiftly moving up the stairs. Looking up from the paper he saw Sherlock paused in the doorway, in the process of pulling off one of his black leather gloves, pale eyes inscrutable.

"John" he finally said, he sounded pleased but his expression was impassive. "Tell me, how is my dear older brother?" John huffed a laugh, he should have known Sherlock would just assume he had moved in, no questions asked.

"Your brother," he said calmly, flipping the page in the newspaper "is an arse."

Sherlock snorted before pulling off his coat and remaining glove and striding over to the sofa and flopping onto it in a move that was mildly melodramatic; John stifled the urge to snort.

"That is the prevailing opinion. Did he offer you money?"

"Yes." John had decided against lying to Sherlock, he was pretty sure he would know if he tried anyway.

Eyes snapped over to him but Sherlock's face remained impassive. "Did you take it?"

"What, no?" John's reaction was immediate.

"Pity. We could have split it, think it through next time." Sherlock settled back into the sofa, fingertips pressed together deep in thought, but the silence was not uncomfortable. It was natural, John marvelled. He was unaccustomed to feeling this naturally comfortable with anyone since the war had ended for him, but Sherlock seemed unaffected by his unwillingness to make eye contact and he suspected, had little interest in the colours that shrouded his irises.

"So this is what you do is it?" John broke the calm. "Solve crimes, risk your life to prove you're clever?"

After a beat of silence Sherlock stretched languorously on the sofa, reminding John of an overgrown house cat. "Problem?"

"Oh God no."

The two men looked at each other and grinned.