HELLO ALL. I HAVE DECIDED TO START A NEW FICTION THAT HAS BEEN RUNNING THROUGH MY HEAD FOR A WHILE NOW. HOPE YOU ENJOY!

PLEASE COMMENT AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Chapter One:

Mycroft had just finished reading over yet another pile of paper work when he heard a commotion outside his office door which could only be caused by one particular person.

Sherlock.

"Bugger off! I don't care if my brother is not to be disturbed!" He heard, muffled, just outside his door before it was swung open harshly by a very angry looking Sherlock.

His secretary had hurried inside, looking quite flustered.

"I'm so very sorry sir. He would not listen." She explained, worried.

"It's quite alright, Nora." Mycroft reassured with his patented false smile. "Close the door behind you."

Nora scurried out of the room, closing the door with a soft click.

"How nice of you to drop by, brother dear. It's been ages." Mycroft said, turning the smile on Sherlock.

Sherlock scowled deeper.

"You can cease with the pleasantries, Mycroft. You know why I'm here." He growled out.

Mycroft let the smile slip from his face.

"On the contrary, brother, I haven't the slightest."

"I think you do." Sherlock answered scornfully. "Yesterday I found six new cameras in my flat. Your cameras, I might add and I removed them. Now imagine my surprise when I do another sweep this morning to find that they had all been replaced."

Mycroft sighed.

"Sherlock, the cameras were installed for your and Dr. Watsons' protection."

"What could possibly happen to one of us in the bathroom?" Sherlock raged. "You just want to keep tabs on me."

"I want to make sure you are safe." Mycroft corrected.

"So you need a camera in every room and hall in my flat? Is my life to be put on display like some ridiculous reality program for all of the government to see?" Sherlock bemoaned.

"Oh don't be so dramatic, Sherlock." Mycroft said, exasperated.

"I'm not being dramatic. I'm simply demanding that you remove the surveillance." Sherlock objected. "And while we're on the subject, brother, I want your henchmen to stop following me"

"No." Mycroft said simply.

Sherlock gave a frustrated growl opening his mouth to speak, but Mycroft interrupted.

"I am your elder brother. It is my responsibility to keep you safe and I will use any means at my disposal to ensure it."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes angrily at his brother before throwing himself into the chair by his side petulantly.

"Fine. What if we make a deal? Give me your most difficult case. If I can solve it in twenty-four hours you remove the cameras at least." Sherlock offered.

Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"I have no cases presently, Sherlock."

Sherlock frowned, thinking.

"Alright. What about a game? If I win, I get the cameras removed."

"I don't have the time or patience to play games with you Sherlock. You're wasting quite a bit of my time as it is." Mycroft answered, the annoyance clear on his face.

"Fine. I'll just move out. Find a new flat somewhere even your henchmen wont be able to find." Sherlock answered, with crossed arms looking all of about five years old.

Mycroft sighed loudly.

"Oh very well Sherlock. You win. But if I actually have to go through with this juvenile game of yours, it cannot be won through something with which you have natural talent, like a case."

Sherlock smirked at his older brother.

"Well seeing as I excel at most things, it's going to be rather hard to find something to wager."

Mycroft gave his own answering smile.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. I believe I know the one area in which you are lacking in the most." He teased.

"Oh? Do tell, brother." Sherlock said confidently.

"Love." Mycroft stated simply. "You will have fifteen days from today to make a person of random choosing that we are both acquainted with to fall in love with you. If you can pull that off, brother, I will remove all cameras except the for main entrance to you flat. Agreed?"

Sherlock scoffed. "You're making this rather easy. Do you want me to win?"

Mycroft smiled knowingly.

"You forget, brother mine, I know you better than you think. Love and sex go hand in hand, Sherlock. And as I've said before. Sex alarms you. Love will practically be your undoing."

"Sex doesn't alarm me, Mycroft. Neither does love. One needn't have experience in such baser instincts to play the part." He countered confidently. "You forget something also. I'm a wonderful actor."

Mycroft simply shook his head.

"You may be a good actor, but when it comes to the level of intimacy required for this particular task, you will find that your 'acting skills' are quite limited, if not useless."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, unconcerned.

"Enough banter, brother. How do we decide what qualifies as 'falling in love' and how do we choose the person?"

Mycroft leaned back in his chair.

"They must confess their love to you verbally. I of course will be watching via surveillance so you cannot cheat. And as for choosing a person, we will comprise a list of five names. People we both know. Someone will then draw one of the names at random." He answered. "Though, one more rule should be put into place. Under no circumstances can you reveal to anyone this wager."

"Agreed." Sherlock said, then smiled. "I nominate Molly Hooper."

Mycroft frowned at that.

"You must think me an idiot, dear brother. Anyone with half a brain knows that she's in love with you already."

"Fine! You choose first then." Sherlock huffed.

Mycroft thought for a brief moment before giving his brother a smile.

"Mrs. Hudson."

Sherlock frowned.

"Let us hope it will not come down to that. I will submit Sally Donovan."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at his brothers choice but conceded.

"Very well. I will add Gregory Lestrade and John Watson."

Sherlock sat shocked.

"You can't be serious! John is out of the question!" He protested.

"And your reasoning for that would be?" Mycroft asked condescendingly.

"Because-" Sherlock fretted. "simply because I say he is."

Mycroft gave an exasperated sigh.

"You're reasoning is rejected. One more name, Sherlock."

"Ugh! Fine!" Sherlock shouted. "Edith Hamell."

"Hamell?" Mycroft asked in mild shock. "My sixty-four year old house maid?"

"Yes." Sherlock replied defiantly.

"Very well, Sherlock." Mycroft agreed with a sigh.

"So who can we get to draw name?" Sherlock asked, impatient.

Mycroft simply pressed a button on his land line.

"Yes sir?" Came the voice of his secretary, Nora through the small speaker.

"I require you're assistance, Nora." Mycroft stated.

No less than five second and Nora was opening the door.

"Please draw one slip of paper from this bowl and place it on my desk." Mycroft ordered.

Nora walked to the desk, drew a name and laid it on the desk.

"Is that all, sir?" She asked.

"Yes. Thank you, Nora." Mycroft said dismissing her. After she closed the door, Mycroft picked up the folded paper and read the name.

"Well?" Sherlock asked, his impatience wearing thin.

Mycroft looked up at his brother grinning.

"It's our favorite doctor." He said, placing the opened paper at the edge of the desk for Sherlock to see.

"John?" Sherlock shrieked.

"This should be quite entertaining, brother." Mycroft supplied, quite happy with himself.

Sherlock wanted to punch the smug look off of his face.

"You must have cheated somehow! I demand a re draw!" Sherlock shouted.

"Stop acting like a child, Sherlock." Mycroft scolded. "There's no way I could have cheated."

"But-"

"Accept your fate brother. Or will you bow out now and save us both trouble?" Mycroft asked smugly.

"Hmph! Not likely!" Sherlock huffed out.

"Then you had best be off. You are going to need every last minute of you fifteen days to seduce John Watson."