Two-shot, not to be taken seriously, serious fluff, Kid!sherlock, Teen!John, and Kid-ish!Mycroft

Please enjoy!

Young Sherlock Holmes walked rapidly beside his older brother. Despite being only three and a half, the small boy was content to travel briskly without holding anyone's hand. Only mummy, in his mind, had the privilege to hold his hand without a clear reason. For anyone else- if it wasn't necessary- he refused. His brother Mycroft had once tried, in an awkward attempt to show brotherly affection and concern, but the action was so strange and uncomfortable that Sherlock immediately started to wriggle his hand out of the grasp. After that, Mycroft never attempted such an action again, and as far Sherlock was concerned that was just fine.

On this particular day, which was nothing truly wonderful nor horrendous, the Holmes brothers-who were both dressed rather smartly- were walking around the campus of the school. Mycroft was theoretical going to attend the school the coming year; however, Sherlock knew that Mycroft had no intention of coming to this particular establishment. By the way his brother's mouth was drawn and the way his eyes half closed to from an unimpressed aura, the youngest Holmes suspected that Mycroft would be having words with their father later that night.

"You don't like it here." Sherlock stated looking around the empty campus with disinterest. Though really, it sounded more like "you don' like ih here" as Sherlock had trouble pronouncing his "t"s.

"Elocution Sherlock," Mycroft responded, "and no."

"Because the school doesn't look nice?" Sherlock asked looking up at the school walls with their plethora moss patches and of water stains.

Mycroft turned the corner and led the duo towards the back of the school "While the establishment is somewhat shoddy, that's not the reason."

Mycroft slowed his step to allow his younger brother time to catch up with him, and looked down to see Sherlock waiting patiently for him to explain.

"You remember the library we visited?" Mycroft asked.

"Uh huh." Sherlock nodded his head black curls bobbing in his face.

"Well, I took the liberty of looking around. The books, chairs, and almost everything else were old, implying that the school lacks funding. In the books, the pages closer to the front were more frayed than the pages in the back meaning that the teachers don't get through their entire lesson plan, and in many of the books I found vandalism caused by unruly students, implying a faulting disciplinary system." Mycroft sighed in annoyance. "And to top it all off the literature was dull. In the end all the evidence points to a truly mediocre school."

Sherlock glanced up at his older brother with sly eyes. While all the things Mycroft said may have been unpleasant, they weren't what his older brother was actually concerned about. "They give out lots of work don't they?" Sherlock asked.

Mycroft's pace quickened, his grip on his umbrella tightened in annoyance and the child knew he had hit the mark. Sherlock's tiny mouth drew upward in a small smirk. Oh Mycroft. So lazy. So predictable. The smile quickly settled back into a mask of indifference as Sherlock started jogging to keep up with Mycroft.

"Mycroft?" (thought it actually sounded like "Mycrof?") Sherlock tried to get his brother's attention.

He frowned in frustration when he was ignored.

"Mycrof'T'." Little Sherlock enunciated the "t" as best he could. Fine, have your precious elocution.

"Yes Sherlock?"

"Can we go home now?"

"No."

"But you already said you didn't like the school."

"Yes. But Mummy expects us home in half an hour. That means we need to walk around this place for twenty more minutes before she'll be satisfied that we've actually checked this dreaded place out."

"But this place is boring."

"It will be good exercise."

"I don't need the exercise."

"Do you want to me to take your magnifying glass, and put it some where you can't reach?"

"…no"

"Then you need the exercise."

Frowning Sherlock stuffed his hands in his black short pockets before stalking after his brother. They continued walking pointlessly around. Sherlock kicked at the dry cobble stone pathway until Mycroft scolded him for scuffing and getting dust on his shoes. After that they walked on in unexciting silence until they came back around to the front of the school.

Sherlock stopped.

Ahead of them a teen was laughing lightly and petting a small cat. The adolescent had short sandy blond hair and a sweater tied round his waist, and the brown tabby kitten was lying on its back and swatting at the fingers of the teen.

Sherlock had never seen a kitten before, but oddly, the small cat wasn't what captured his attention. It was the laughter emitting from the teenager. Sherlock had never heard someone laugh, or at least he couldn't ever remember witnessing the event. The teenager seemed so... at ease, so happy... it was weird.

Mummy smiled, but never laughed. Father was never around when Sherlock was awake, so he had no way of knowing. Mycroft... well... Mycroft was Mycroft, and any other guest that graced the Holmes house was there strictly for business, so of course their faces were masks of business.

"What's that?" Sherlock asked grabbing the sleeve of his brother, and pointing in the direction of the teen and the kitten. Of course he should have said 'who' instead of "what", but something in his three year old mind told him that a person so unlike all the other people he knew, must be from a different species entirely.

Mycroft looked down at his brother thinking he was talking about the small feline.

"That's a kitten Sherlock."

"Really?" The little boy's eyebrows rose, and his eye's widened.

"Yes. A kitty. A young cat. A small feline, and by the looks of it, it's a stray."

Sherlock squinted. The sweater the teen was wearing around its waist was rather ratty, but he saw nothing that would imply that the creature was homeless. He needed to get better at deducing things like this.

"Wait," Something dawned on Sherlock. "So it's not a person?"

Mycroft looked down at Sherlock, incredulous. "Of course not."

"Is it as smart as a person?"

Mycroft snorted. "Hardly. They either run around wild, or people keep them as pets."

Pets? Sherlock's eye's brightened. "Can I have him?"

Mycroft scoffed, but then looked down at the hopeful look in his brother's eyes. He rolled his eyes, and placed his umbrella in the crook of his arm.

"If you can catch it, you can bring it home and ask Mummy. But if you get scratched, it's not my fault… and just so you know, that's a girl kitten." Mycroft finally said.

Sherlock nodded in affirmation. His soft face was set in a serious expression, but his eye's were filled with an excited energy. Mycroft rolled his eye's again. He looked over at the teen playing with the kitten and assessed that he wasn't a danger to his brother. And since he wasn't a danger to his brother, Mycroft felt no qualms about leaving Sherlock unsupervised. In fact Mycroft could use this distraction to go and find the bowl of candy he had spotted earlier in the front office. Candy always seemed to taste better when Mycroft didn't have his little brother's judging eyes-or snide comments about how Mycroft's "terrible eating habits would catch up with him someday"-keeping him company.

Before Mycroft left he looked down to see Sherlock starting to formulate his plan of attack.

"Come find me at the front of the school, when you're done with your little 'adventure'." Mycroft rounded the corner of the school and disappeared from sight.

tbc...

(Racoon guy from "Over the Hedge"): You see this review? You like the review? Yeah? Well you know what? This review is junk! *throws review over fence*

(Me): *sniff* But I like da review:(

*ahem* Chap 2 coming soon. Thank you so much for reading this. If you have any constructive criticism (or you just want to say hi :D) I'd love to hear from you!

Anyway TTFN!