John held the small key in between his forefinger and his thumb. He had a key to Mycroft's now, though he supposed it was his place as well at this point. He'd given his own key back to Mrs. Hudson, who had taken it with a bittersweet sort of joy.
The small groove at the tip of the key fit nicely against John's thumb.
Nicely because it was molded to his thumbprint, nicked from the military's database.
"What are you doing, John? Have you locked the door?" Mycroft asked.
"Sorry, just wondering how a 'minor government official' got a key like this one," John said.
He locked the door and walked over to Mycroft.
"Questions don't become you. Stop them," Mycroft said.
John laughed.
"I know, I've had the key a month and I've asked you nearly every day since. I might catch you off guard, yet," John said.
"I'm sure you'll try," Mycroft said.
They walked together down the street and past a nursery. John took a deep breath and smiled softly.
"What is it?" Mycroft asked.
"It's nothing," John said.
Mycroft sat restlessly on the couch. He didn't much recline, but there was nothing to be done. John had cleaned every spot Anthea missed.
John sat on the chair he'd claimed for himself and flipped through his phone. He gasped softly and looked up at Mycroft with wide eyes.
"Am I allowed a dog in here?" John asked.
"A dog?" Mycroft asked.
Of all the ridiculous things.
"Small thing, furry, big eyes, little tail?" John said.
Mycroft was filled with remembrances of Red Beard. Remembrances of Sherlock.
"Do what you like," he said.
John's smile reached his eyes as he nodded in gratitude. Mycroft's frown softened. He raised his eyebrows upon catching himself. John went back to his phone. Mycroft decided the spices could do with a good alphabetizing.
John closed the door with his eyes on his new friend. It was perfectly natural to refer to a pet as such. The dog watched John with careful yet eager eyes. John leaned down to pet him.
"Oh, William," he said quietly, "we shall have great fun together."
A cough caught John's attention.
"Is that it, then?" Mycroft asked.
"You could pretend to have a heart sometimes, you know," John replied.
:It's quite large," Mycroft said.
John smiled.
"Well I thought you'd do better with a higher class of dog, and this little one here is a purebreed," John said.
The dog barked.
"I know that, I do have enough sense to be able to recognize a borzoi on sight," Mycroft said.
John raised his eyebrows.
"You...do? I had to ask, it's not exactly common knowledge, Mycroft," he said.
"Well of course. What have you named it?" Mycroft asked.
"William," John said with a smile.
Mycroft paused.
"After..Sherlock?" he asked.
"No, wait what?" John said.
Mycroft looked at the dog.
"I suppose it is adequate. I've got a meeting," Mycroft said.
John watched him leave.
"He's an odd one, William," John said.
William barked.