A/N: Here's another chapter, although it's a little shorter than the first. Please review! =]
Sherlock and John strolled into the Diogenes as the club's grandfather clock struck 9 o'clock. Without stopping to sign in at the desk, Sherlock led the way through the corridors of patterned carpet and mahogany paneling to Mycroft's office.
"Am I getting predictable, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, looking up and turning to face them a little.
"You've always been predictable." Sherlock replied, moving to stand opposite his brother.
"John." Mycroft greeted, although he didn't offer a smile.
"Mycroft." John replied with a nod.
"We're here to take your statement." Sherlock said, sitting down in one of the armchairs.
"My statement? You must realize that I won't be telling you anything on record?" Mycroft replied with a raised eyebrow.
"We won't be recording you, but we do want to ask you a few questions." John said as he sat down beside Sherlock.
"Go ahead. Ask your questions." Mycroft said with a slight smirk, amused by their actions.
"Have you killed before?" John asked, clearing his throat a little as Mycroft's gaze made him feel nervous.
"With my own hands or ordered a kill?" Mycroft asked.
"Erm...both, I guess?" John replied, looking at the older Holmes brother.
"Then yes. I've killed before. Many times." Mycroft answered, looking John over.
"We're focusing on people that you've killed with your own hands." Sherlock admitted, watching his brother.
"In that case... A couple of dozen or so." Mycroft replied, putting on an act of counting in his head that he knew would disturb John.
"So, in excess of 24 people?" John clarified with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, my brother was rather obsessed with his little hobby." Sherlock muttered with a sigh.
"If I hadn't indulged in my hobby, you wouldn't have become a detective." Mycroft pointed out.
"Should I thank you for killing all of those people, brother?" Sherlock asked sarcastically.
"Probably. I did you a favour, you know." Mycroft replied.
"You left all of that behind you. Why go back to it?" Sherlock asked.
"Why not? I'm getting older, I think that it's time to indulge in my hobbies again." Mycroft replied, "It's very enjoyable, you know."
"Killing innocent people is not a hobby!" John exclaimed, frustrated by the two brothers' cold behaviour.
"Who said anything about innocent people?" Mycroft said with a raised eyebrow, "I prefer to go after those with a guilty conscience."
"And the girl? Was she guilty?" John asked.
"I never got to find out." Mycroft said with a wistful smile, "It's refreshing to sometimes be unpredictable. To stray from the path, as such."
"I think you strayed from the path some time ago." Sherlock replied with a sigh.
"Has he always been so cold?" John asked as they sat together in 221B some hours later.
"We're both different. We have our quirks." Sherlock replied with a sigh, "I explore types of tobacco ash while Mycroft explores people."
"I always thought that he was more social than you, but I'm beginning to doubt that now." John admitted.
"Mycroft likes people, but he sees them as experiments. He pushes and pushes until he finds their weakness. When he does find their weakness, he becomes bored." Sherlock replied with a sigh.