Sherlock getting ready for a date with Molly
Mycroft-I never thought I would see the day that my brother would lower himself to something so plebeian as dating
Sherlock- how is lady Smallwood by the way? Still keeping her private number on you?
Mycroft is annoyed but lets it go. Watches as his brother dresses with elaborate care.
Mycroft- please tell me you are taking miss Hooper somewhere appropriate…if you need somewhere I can make a reservation
Sherlock-(bitingly) no thank you. Neither Molly or I want to be spied on all night
Mycroft-ah so you require privacy? How quaint. How romantic
Sherlock shoots his brother a dark look. His expression eases as he puts on his suit jacket, he looks good. Molly will certainly approve.
The belstaff is the last part of his armour. It feels good. He feels like himself. No matter how alien this feeling for Molly was. No matter which way the evening ended, and god he wanted it to go well. But at least he looked the part.
Mycroft- I suppose it’s customary to express well wishes at times like this
Sherlock snorts derisively
Sherlock-don’t strain yourself dear
Mycroft-I have no intention to. Perhaps I will simply remind you of Miss Hooper’s many accomplishments and devotion to you–
Sherlock- I don’t need a reminder of that!
He looks in the mirror, marvelling at how calm he was on the outside when his insides twisted with nervousness.
Mycroft- Don’t mess this up brother mine-you may well not get another chance.
An echo of that very thought has reverberating through his mind, it’s easier to ignore it in Mycroft’s voice. That’s why Mycroft said it.
Without a word he exits his brother’s office.