The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson

Hi everyone, sorry I haven't written for a while. To be honest, I'm not sure if anyone's even reading this anymore and I wouldn't blame you. I suppose I've just needed a break from all this. But maybe Ella's right, maybe it does help get stuff written down, get it out of my head. So I'm back!

Something pretty odd happened to me the other day. I bumped into Mycroft. In Tescos. He wouldn't have seemed more out of place on a bouncy castle. I honestly have no idea why he was there, part of me suspects that he'd gone there just to meet me. But then again, he hasn't tried to contact me, I haven't even seen him since... well, since then.

But all that's in the past, its been more than a year, come on John pull yourself together. I really do need to move on, get away from it all. It feels like every part of London, every street and cab just reminds me of him. Of Sherlock.

Well that's what I ended up telling Mycroft over Starbucks coffees (well I had a coffee, he just perched on his seat looking as if he didn't want to touch any of his surroundings.) I'm not even sure why he suggested getting coffee - it was all just plain strange.

Anyway, after I'd said all of that his manner seemed to change. If I didn't know better, I'd have said he was relieved. Well he seemed uncharacteristically keen on my idea to 'get away from it all'. He wouldn't drop the subject, kept asking if I knew someone I could go and stay with -

My sister? Well she only lives about half an hour away, on the outskirts of the city. So not much of a break. And it feels like she knows too much about what happened, like we'd just be avoiding the subject every time we talked.

Other family? No, not really.

Friends? I really tried to think, but no one came to mind. It was the same problem as with Harry, anyone who knows me, also knew Sherlock. I mean really, who could I ask? Stanford? He lives in London, as does Molly, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson... And then I remembered. Ages ago, after that CIA bloke scared the hell out poor Mrs.H. She joked that she was glad her little brother didn't know what she got up to or he'd be so worried he rush down all the way from Scotland. Apparently, he's very protective. Up until then, I hadn't even thought about her having a family but seemingly he runs some sort of walker's inn up in the North.

When I mentioned that, Mycroft seemed about fit to leap out of his chair (he didn't, of course). However he was very effusive (well as close as he can get to it) about the idea - even insisted I call up Mrs.H there and then. And before I even knew what was going on, it had all been decided. So next friday I'm packing my old rucksack and setting off for a walking holiday in the mountains of Scotland. I'm not even sure if I want to go, but it almost feels as if I have no choice in the matter!

A/N: If any of you lovely, talented people fancy drawing me Mycroft on a bouncy castle, I would be enternally indebted to you ^^