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Feb. 18th, 2012 10:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notquiteheartlessSherlock Holmes stood in the kitchen of 221 B Baker Street. Silently, he poured and prepared three cups of tea, precisely the way the drinkers took them. His sudden, brief inclination toward hospitality owed itself entirely to the expected company.
Mycroft had come and gone; he had not been offered tea, much less found it just waiting for him. The conversation had remained civil but decidedly chilled. It had only been his departure that showed any humanity between the brothers. The tone of the elder hinted that once, long ago, they had not only tolerated each other but might even have been close.
"You look different, Sherlock."
"I'll text if your assistance is needed further."
"You look like you might remember what 'hope' is."
"Good day, Mycroft."
"Take care of yourself."
As for John... He had said little to the older man since they had woken up. His reasons alternated between feeling there was nothing that needed saying and not knowing what he ought to say.
Viewed in daylight, with rest and relaxation of months' worth of emotional tension, the activities of the previous night presented questions. Were things different now? If so, how different? Should he acknowledge any of it? Would they be best served by pretending it never happened? Mycroft's immediate presence had stifled any considerations of conversation on the topic.
Now, though...
Now there was a lull. More company was coming, but the flat was empty save for them.
Sherlock set out the tray of teacups after he came back into the living room. For a moment, any and all worries about any issue vanished. The sight of John in his chair as Sherlock slid into his own was enough to assure him that, no matter what came, there was something to look forward to, even if it was as simple as one more day. He had John back at his side. That thought alone was enough to let him be rather like his usual self-- calm, cool, collected, detached from almost everything. It was a state that, for him, meant most things were right in the world.
"The cup on the left is yours," he said as he took up the one on the right. "You've asked Mrs Hudson up?"
Mycroft had come and gone; he had not been offered tea, much less found it just waiting for him. The conversation had remained civil but decidedly chilled. It had only been his departure that showed any humanity between the brothers. The tone of the elder hinted that once, long ago, they had not only tolerated each other but might even have been close.
"You look different, Sherlock."
"I'll text if your assistance is needed further."
"You look like you might remember what 'hope' is."
"Good day, Mycroft."
"Take care of yourself."
As for John... He had said little to the older man since they had woken up. His reasons alternated between feeling there was nothing that needed saying and not knowing what he ought to say.
Viewed in daylight, with rest and relaxation of months' worth of emotional tension, the activities of the previous night presented questions. Were things different now? If so, how different? Should he acknowledge any of it? Would they be best served by pretending it never happened? Mycroft's immediate presence had stifled any considerations of conversation on the topic.
Now, though...
Now there was a lull. More company was coming, but the flat was empty save for them.
Sherlock set out the tray of teacups after he came back into the living room. For a moment, any and all worries about any issue vanished. The sight of John in his chair as Sherlock slid into his own was enough to assure him that, no matter what came, there was something to look forward to, even if it was as simple as one more day. He had John back at his side. That thought alone was enough to let him be rather like his usual self-- calm, cool, collected, detached from almost everything. It was a state that, for him, meant most things were right in the world.
"The cup on the left is yours," he said as he took up the one on the right. "You've asked Mrs Hudson up?"
