I do not own Sherlock Holmes

John Watson, along with the hundreds of people who have ever had interactions with Mycroft Holmes, believed that he was born middle aged, in an expensive suit and holding an umbrella. Of course they didn't REALLY believe it but they definitely believed that it was his fashion of choice. They could most definitely picture a young Mycroft Holmes in a three piece suit and concluded to themselves that he was never more at home in said clothing. And they were hopelessly wrong. There were only three people in the world that knew what Mycroft Holmes dressed like when he was relaxing. There were also only three people in the world that knew Mycroft Holmes relaxed in the first place. And unknown to John Watson, he was going to be added to that list.

It all began when Sherlock told John that Mycroft had invited them to his place to help with solving a case. Sherlock was in unholy glee over the murders but more so over the fact that Mycroft had to ask him for help. John agreed to go. Not that he really had a choice in the matter; Sherlock would have dragged him out of the flat. And if he had manged to stave off Sherlock, Mycroft would have abducted him. So at some hour of the morning they were being whisked away via a shiny black car to Mycroft's place of abode; which was unsurprisingly, an undisclosed location.

When they arrived John stepped out expecting to see a large Victorian styled Mansion but he was looking at a small wooden front gate which guarded a stone path that led to a black door set in the most normal looking house you could imagine. John stood there for a moment trying to process if what he was seeing was true and not some joke.

"Are we at the right place?" John asked. Sherlock gave a look which clearly said "Stop being an idiot' and led the way into the house. He knocked at the door and there was the sound of a lock being juggled with before it opened. Sherlock walked in and John followed only to stop with him mouth open while his hands lost their grip in his bags. There was a loud thud and the sound of something breaking as John fixed his eyes in utter disbelief on Mycroft Holmes.

"Do pick up your things Dr. Watson," Mycroft said, "If I don't close back this door in the next ten seconds, a tactic team will begin move in. And i would so hate for that to happen."

It was him alright. John hurried to drag his bags through the door then looked back as Mycroft closed the door, being careful not to be seen. The man was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans with his feet bare and his umbrella no where in sight.

"I've just finished breakfast," Mycroft continued leading them into the kitchen, "Leave you bags there for now. I'll bring you up to speed on the case while we eat."

For the next week and a half John Watson was subjected to the most surreal days of his life as he witnessed Mycroft Holmes relaxing. He found out that Mycroft liked to wear vests and short pants in the evenings before changing into the softest pajamas you could ever find for bed. He found out that Mycroft looked great in a hoodie but only wore them when he played trap-set. He also found out that Sherlock and Mycroft made a mean musical team when they put their minds to it but more often than not ended up arguing over scales, transposition and clefs. He tried not to laugh when Mycrfot wore aprons in the kitchen and a chef's hat on his head when cooking. And besides the food was amazing. He realized that the wrapping a sheet around oneself wasn't a Sherlock thing only. He even saw Mycroft go bareback one day and was horrified to see the scars that littered the man's skin. Mycroft had shrugged off John's voicing of his concern and questions in a way so similar to Sherlock's that John just had to mention it. Mycroft snorted in disdain then told John the story behind one of them just to prove he was more mature.

Finally the case was over and Sherlock and John were waiting to once again be whisked off into the night. John was sitting next to Mycroft, who was in a v-neck jersey and cut off jeans.

"This is why you brought Sherlock on this case," John said to him, "you were taking a break." Mycroft graced him with a small smile.

"One must take care of one's health Doctor, " he replied, "I am sure that you would understand that better than most."

"But Sherlock has seen you like this before but i never have," John said. Mycroft tilted his head to peer at John.

"What i mean is," John continued rolling his eyes, "Why did you let me come? I mean I know this isn't a way that most people see you."

"Only three in the world," Mycroft confirmed, "And now four."

"But why trust me with this?" John asked.

"Because my brother trusts you with everything he has," Mycroft said softly, "And you haven't ever let him down. So i don't think you would start making that a habit now." Before John could answer, Sherlock came bursting in to tell him that they were ready to go. John looked over at Mycroft.

"you'll be alright all by yourself," he asked. Mycroft gave him one of his looks. John stared back at him.

"I'll be fine Doctor," Mycroft conceded. John nodded and they left.

Two weeks later Mycroft was back in John's life; suit intact and umbrella swinging.