Their own little goldfish- Chapter 3

Hidden behind a nearby corner, Sherlock and John eagerly watched your arrival to Mycroft’s manor.
By the time you had finally reached the immense door, you had tripped over your own feet, and fell into some rose bushes twice. But in any case, you had arrived. Before pressing the doorbell, you allowed yourself one last glance towards the giggling bunch behind you, and winked. You then managed to lose your balance on a last viciously placed step.  Fortunately, the door opened just in time to let Mycroft catch you in your fall.

The hour was late, so late that some birds had begun to chirp. The man that appeared before you was, to your surprise, no stranger.

Back a few months, you had decided to deviate your routine to the Diogenes club, which one of your friends was an official member. You were aware that there were certain rules that were to be broken under no circumstances, but as to what they consisted of, you had no idea. As you cautiously entered, a leaving gentleman caught you right in the act of tripping, which happened on a daily basis. You muttered an apology which he silenced by bringing a finger to his lips. From his expression you had discerned quite a few things. There was an irritating arrogance overlaying his lips and brows, coated with self-confidence exceeding common standards, as for his eyes, they bore hints of child-like amusement and mischievousness, but there was something quite alive about them.  

Caught in his arms once more, your foggy mind had yet to put back all the pieces together, but was reasonable enough to refrain your tongue from making any allusion of the dare.

“I know you... We met in the Diogenes club. Now as for the reason of your presence...”

He took a few steps back until you were at a tolerable distance enough to his liking.

“All that alcohol breaks my concentration", he explained.

He sighed. “My brother sometimes has the most childish ideas.”

“I am the master of my own actions”, you said confusedly, “thank you very much indeed!”. For the sake of drama, you felt like you had to bow, which you did.

Mycroft on the other hand was not so fond of drama.

“Very well, now if you’ll excuse me, I have more important business to attend to.”

Before he could close the door you clumsily stepped in, amazed by various paintings.

Deeply annoyed Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself, before finally losing his gentlemanly attitude.

“WILLIAM SHERLOCK SCOTT HOLMES COME GET YOUR FRIEND AT ONCE!”

This scare tactic had, however, the opposite effect. Sherlock and John scattered away, without forgetting to leave a few giggles behind.