It was late when Harry headed back to the flat.
The restaurant that John had recommended, Angelo's, was nice, and upon finding out that Harry was a relative of a close friend of Sherlock, her meal was on the house. She had took her time, just thinking about what to do to amend things with John and making small talk with the waiter. She eventually left around ten.
She quickly walked back to the flat, not even trying to hail a cab. It was late, it was a Friday night, and it was raining, the chances of getting one were slim. So she trudged through the rain, pushing herself through other pedestrians, until she arrived back at 221B.
Harry let herself in through both doors, the one to enter the building and the one to enter John and Sherlock's flat. When she walked in she saw John at his spot at the table with his laptop, but Sherlock was missing. John didn't even look up when she entered.
She noticed that there was a few blankets and two pillows sitting next to them, and she wandered over and sat next to them.
John still didn't look up from his laptop.
"So..." Harry began, just saying something to break the silence.
"Why?" was all that John replied with.
"Why are you here?"
"I told you, it's because my landlord kicked me out."
"No he didn't. In your last phone call you said things were fine at your flat."
"Okay, so I lied. I just... needed to get away, maybe change some things."
John shut his laptop and looked at her. He didn't seem as shocked by her random arrival anymore.
"So you came here?" he asked.
"Yeah. Had nowhere else."
"So you still haven't made things up with Mom and Dad?"
Harry let out a sad chuckle.
"I don't think I'll ever make up with them. After what they did, I don't really mind."
John smiled, and leaned back in his chair. He hadn't seen Harry since she ran away from home, shortly after she was sixteen, and he was a little kid. He had always held resentment, due to her leaving him. They had kept up with phone calls and emails, and that day was the first time they saw each other face to face in a long time. Harry was having trouble believing the man sitting before her was her kid brother, and John couldn't believe how much Harry had changed over the years.
"So, how was life?" She asked.
They talked for most of the night.
Harry woke up with a yawn, rubbing the sore back of her neck that she received from spending the night on the sofa. She stretched for a moment, before standing and checking the time. Just a little after noon.
She soon found that she was alone in the flat, and also found a note explaining that Sherlock and John were out working on a case, and wouldn't be back for a few hours at least.
Harry decided to take a quick shower, and grabbed a clean set of clothes from her suitcase.
The shower woke her up a bit, and made her feel more energized about starting the day. She changed into a clean hoodie and an old pair of jeans, and grabbed a towel to dry her hair.
Walking into the kitchen see searched for something to eat, mostly finding expired things and severed body parts. She gave up after a few minutes, and spun around to go into the living area, to grab her phone, when she suddenly stopped.
There was someone sitting on one of the armchairs.
He was a strange looking fellow, oddly handsome in his own way, slightly resembling
Sherlock. He was dressed in a suit, and had an umbrella resting beside him.
"Who are you?" she asked, one the initial surprise was over.
"I could ask the same," he replied.
"But I asked first. And seeing as you're the one who barged into my brother and his best friend's apartment, I think I could ask the questions."
The man raised an eyebrow at this, but after a moment stood and extended his hand.
Harry didn't move forward to shake his hand, but she did remember a story John had mentioned/
"You're Sherlock's brother?"
"So you're the twit who kidnapped John?"
"Yes. I just wanted to make sure he was a suitable flatmate for Sherlock," Mycroft replied, unfazed by her glare.
"And you think the best way of accomplishing that is by kidnapping him?"
"Listen, that's over and done with now. Sherlock and John we're supposed to meet me here, do you know where they are?"
"Out on a case, that's what they told me."
Mycroft thought over something for a second, before grabbing his umbrella and walking to the door.
"Tell Sherlock to call when he come's back," he said, before exiting. Harry noticed it was less of a request, and more of a command.
Harry shut and locked the door, making sure it was secure.
"Good riddance," she muttered.
A/N: So John and Harry's relationship gets a tiny bit better, and Harry and Mycroft meet.
Nothing really else to say...