That question surprised Sherlock, and he blinked. He had never really examined why she bothered him before.

"I... don't know," he said, sounding surprised at his own answer. "I don't like not knowing."

Elena nodded slowly. She could accept that, for now, because she knew he didn't examine himself much.

"Alright. Your turn."

Sherlock thought about the question for a moment before he asked it.

"How are you able to tolerate John and Abigail going off together so often?"

"It's more normal for me. I've lived through Abby having a few other boyfriends. Granted, she didn't take to any of them so well, but it's the same idea. She took vacations with one of them." Elena shrugged.

And then paused when she heard the door open. "Expecting company?"

"No," Sherlock replied, turning and listening to the person coming in. Careful, measured steps, expensive shoes, expensively tailored suit... Ahh, yes, there was the sound of something long and thin resting on the floor. Getting up, Sherlock went into the main room. "What are you doing here, Mycroft?"

Mycroft looked at him. "Am I not allowed to visit my little brother?" he asked, his voice mild. Even though he knew exactly what he was interrupting.

"You are never 'just visiting', Mycroft," Sherlock pointed out. "Why are you here?"

Mycroft smiled faintly. "Do calm down, Sherlock," he said, looking at his brother for a moment before looking at Elena. Elena just watched the two of them for now.

"Do I not look calm? My mistake," Sherlock retorted, sprawling in his chair.

Mycroft just suppressed a sigh and turned his attention to Elena.

"Please pardon the intrusion, my name is Mycroft Holmes. As you have no doubt guessed, I am Sherlock's older brother."

"Indeed. We were just talking about you. Kind of." Elena smiled, stood, and offered him her hand.

"Is that so?" Mycroft asked, shaking her hand. "How very unusual. I rather thought Sherlock did his best to deny our relationship whenever he could."

"We had to be honest," Elena said, humor in her eyes. "Although I did have to poke a bit to get him to answer."

"Had to be honest?" Mycroft repeated, one eyebrow going up. "How in the world did you manage that?"

Elena grinned. "We agreed on it. Besides, he's kind of a terrible liar when he has to do it on the fly."

"Indeed," Mycroft said, the barest hint of a smile on his face. Sherlock just growled wordlessly behind them and turned to sulk.

Elena shook her head a bit. "Would you like some tea? Sherlock, sit down and stop pouting." Without actually waiting for a reply, she moved into the kitchen.

"Tea would be lovely, my dear," Mycroft said, sitting down. He made sure not to sit in John's chair, instead taking the client chair.

Elena shot him an amused glance at being called "my dear" but didn't actually protest. She didn't mind. She did bring the tea over when it was ready, setting a tray on the little table.

"So, Mr. Holmes, what brings you here today?"

"I felt I should see how my brother is faring," Mycroft said as he accepted one of the cups of tea. "As I understand it, John is away for the moment." And he wanted to see how Sherlock and Elena interacted, but that wasn't something he was going to admit aloud.

"He and my friend Abby decided to take a weekend trip," Elena said, smiling. "About damn time, too."

"Is that so?" Mycroft asked with just the right amount of polite interest.

"Mmm." Elena looked at him and smiled. "Not according to Sherlock, but Sherlock is also not used to the idea."

"I can only imagine," Mycroft said, looking at his brother. Sherlock just glared back from his seat, although he had one hand wrapped around a mug of tea. "And how are you faring without a buffer between you and my brother? I know how Sherlock can be, after all."

"I'm doing fine," Elena said with a grin. "I can't decide if his pouting has been habitual, boredom, or just John doing the unexpected." But she did know it wasn't because Sherlock didn't want her there.

"Perhaps a combination of all three," Mycroft observed. Although, surprisingly, Sherlock wasn't showing any of the signs of true distress. Perhaps Elena was good for him after all.