Late 20s New Yorker. I edit music videos occasionally.
This drabble was pulled from an Anon headcanon that was submitted to the lovely duchesscloverly a little while ago. I couldn’t resist. Plus, Sherlock is fun when he plays the annoying matchmaker.
The first time Mycroft had received a call that his baby brother had been arrested, he had been far from surprised. Sherlock, in his infinite boredom, had decided that cocaine was the only fascinating thing in his life, and to say he had become an addict was a kind way of putting it. So he excused himself from a not-so-important meeting and made his way down to New Scotland Yard to bail him out.
The arresting officer had been Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade. Apparently, Sherlock had wandered onto his crime scene high as a kite (the Inspector’s words, not Mycroft’s own), and had deduced everything about him, his Sergeant, and the body. Unsurprising. Mycroft kept up his formalities, bailed his addict of a brother, and took him home.
“You like him,” Sherlock said after almost an entire car ride of silence. Mycroft turned and regarded him with a raised eyebrow.
“I am sure I have no idea what you mean,” he said smoothly, making sure to look extremely uninterested. Sherlock snorted.
If you’ve sent me a message this weekend I am not ignoring you. It’s been crazy and I promise I’ll respond!
what movie? :)
do you have more cinnamon rolls? If yes, dinner solved! If not… You’re in trouble.
I just spent 40 minutes trying to find a Mexican restaurant near me that is actually legit Mexican and not Tex-Mex/Chinese/Hawaiian/Japanese delivered by a surly Russian guy.
It’s a lot harder than you’d think.
Things to be accomplished today:
- Send out resumes
- Figure out what to do for dinner
- Work on annoying video
- Send my Mom the photos I took over Christmas
- Sleep late
- Watch movie
- Eat a cinnamon roll
I’d say today was a success.