John couldn't pinpoint why it was that he was suddenly wide awake and alert, and it was only as he struggled to untangle himself from the blanket that he realised that his was mobile ringing.
With a frown he reached into his jeans pocket. The ringtone wasn't one he had assigned to a friend, so he was wary when he answered it.
"Hello?"
"Am I speaking to Dr John Watson?" The voice was cold, posh and business-like.
"Yes, this is Dr Watson, who's speaking?"
"You don't know me Dr Watson, but I believe you have my brother."
"Have? I 'have' no one, Mr…?"
"Don't be obtuse Watson; you are currently holding my brother, Sherlock Holmes…."
John had started towards the stairs, the mention of the brother raising the suspicion that was confirmed with that last comment. Knocking gently on the door to 221C he walked in, still talking to the man on the phone.
"I don't understand why you think I'm holding anyone; you must have mistaken me for someone else." Sensing Sherlock moving to his side, John stopped walking and handed the phone to him, holding a finger against his lips for silence.
The young man put the phone to his ear.
"Dr Watson…."
"Mycroft?" Sherlock gasped.
"Sherlock." Mycroft Holmes sounded relieved. "It's good to hear your voice little brother."