Watson was really not at all certain that he was. He'd never had to have this sort of meeting-with-the-in-laws; Mary had had no family to speak of, after all. Even if had seen Mycroft Holmes several times in the last two years, somehow this seemed... different. It was a much more weighted meeting, with Holmes beside him and no illusions about their relationship. Granted, there were few illusions now, but he was sleep-deprived and worn out, and probably should have had more of an appetite than he did. It had been a very unpredictable twenty-four hours. Less, probably.

"I certainly hope so," Watson said, looking up at the building. "It would be a shame to let lunch go to waste, the quality of the cooking here being what it was."