Fractured Minds. Fractured Hearts.

The Wrong Holmes

Well, hello there my little beauties! How are you all? So yes this is in fact a Johncroft fanfiction! I know right, crazy! I felt the need to write one because, come on, who doesn't love Mycroft and John, so putting them together just makes me explode with fan girly happiness!!! I hope you enjoy this and please vote/comment if you want me to continue writing, or I just probably won't. Also I am accepting requests for characters and events, so if you do want me to add your character in or make a certain event thing happen then just comment or message me. Anyway, I'll stop rambling.
Forever and always
E.L

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"Ah! Mr Watson, where is my vacuous brother?" Came the dangerously smooth voice of the recherché Holmes brother whom was already seated in the doctors beloved chair.

"Well, hello to you to Holmes" John furrowed his brows in annoyance at the blatant rudeness of the eldest Holmes, stomping rather moodily into his kitchen and dropping piles of bags on the linoleum floor with a worrying crash.

Completely ignoring the 'esteemed' Mycroft Holmes, John made a cup of tea, for only himself, muttering something about 'Bloody Holmes' and such.
"Ahem, Mr Watson. I asked where my brother was?" Mycroft made no effort to hide is obvious irritation at being ignored by someone so, blasé. To this John whipped around aggressively to face the Government man who was now standing impossibly straight, towering even more over him, and staring rather disapprovingly at the short, fuming man.

"And why the bloody hell do you think I would know, I'm not his sodding babysitter!" A furious growl escaped the doctors rosy lips as he pointed accusingly at Mycroft, earning a pure look of utter surprise on the older mans ivory face. The two silently entered a staring contest, John Watson's chocolate eyes a mix of burning fury with a twist of excitement whilst Mycroft Holme's frozen stare held a dangerous gleam swirling around a hint of amusement. After what the two men would call an eternity, realistically being only a few minutes, the paramount one of the two smirked demeaningly at the other, not so, eminent man.

"Well its come to my attention that you have acquired quite a thing for my dearest brother" The smirk diminished from Mycrofts face as his sneering was met with a dangerously calm smile from the previously furious man.
"I'm afraid your going to have to be slightly more specific, Mr Holmes. Assuming you can manage such an action as using proper English, being the 'British Government' and all" Taken aback by the sudden charge of confidence, the politician gaped, wide eyed, resembling that of a fir out of water. Mock innocence plastered Johns face as he pouted slightly, waiting patiently for a response from the flustered man.

"Ahem. Well, Mr Watson. I'm simply stating that you have an obvious fondness or 'crush' as some would put it, on the famous consulting detective" Holmes got a hold of himself, slipping his smirk back in place and raising a perfectly shaped brow for emphasis, but was once again shot down as the short, sandy-haired man let out a harsh laugh aimed at him. Mycroft tried his best to stay emotionless but as John started taking slow, menacing steps towards his stiff body, he couldn't help but shake a little. By this point Watson was only a few centimetres away from the auburn haired man.

"It's Doctor Watson, to you Mycroft" John growled seductively into Mycrofts ear. Mycroft almost whimpered when the Doctor pulled away and walked off unfazed. "Plus, I like my partners more", John paused to look directly into Mycrofts icy eyes, "Sophisticated" He purred then shrugged innocently as if he wasn't doing anything to Mycrofts mental, not to mention physical, state.

(Sherlock's P.O.V)

I just finished visiting Lesterade and his idiotic crew down at Scotland Yard and due to this awful weather I couldn't hail a cab. So now I was trudging along in the rain heading towards mine and Johns flat. As I approached 221B I noticed the knocker had been straightened. 'Ugh, Mycrofts been here! Let's hope he's gone already' I sighed in frustration at the mere thought of my brother. 'Fixing' the brass knocker and running up the stairs, two at a time, I suddenly heard an unfamiliar voice echoing from the inside of my flat. 'Who on earth could that be and why did it sound so........sexual?' I hated being confused so, naturally, I burst into the room, ready to pounce on whomever was in my flat.