Sherlock dialled the numbers hesitantly; he despised having to ask his brother for anything, yet in this case there was nothing he could do, he needed help. He pressed the 'call' button, and held the phone up to his ear. One ring. Two rings. Three rings-

"Sherlock." Came the icy voice on the other end of the line.

"Mycroft." He replied, in just as a cold a voice as his brother had used towards him. "I need..." he paused. "I need your help."

He did not fail to notice the quiet chuckle that came through the phone.

"Oh really? You do, do you now? What could you possibly need help with? Mr Sherlock 'I-Don't-Need-Anyone' Holmes?" he sneered down the line.

"You know that's not true. That I don't need anyone." He muttered.

"No, no. That's quite right. Of course, sorry. Allow me to amend my previous statement. Mr Sherlock 'Only-John-Watson-Is-Good-Enough-For-Me-Everyone-Else-Is-Irrelevant' Holmes. Better?"

"Long way to go purely to insult me... but really Mycroft, I need your assistance with this one matter." He almost begged. (I said almost. Sherlock Holmes never begged unless he was acting.)

"Would this happen to have anything to do with your intention to propose to aforementioned John Watson?" Mycroft heard the slight gasp of surprise that Sherlock gave in response to that. "Oh please, I hope you don't think I failed to notice you spending a lot more time than I would think normal for you in jewellery shops, browsing through the rings." He said smugly.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and replied. "Yes, alright, that is what I needed help with. I- I don't know how people usually go about these things."

"And what makes you think I'd want to help you?" he asked.

"Well, nothing, of course, except that I'm sure you'd like to keep it to yourself that a certain Detective Inspector has been making a awful lot of visits to your house recently, even leaving his tie there at one point."

He could practically feel the glare that he was sure Mycroft was directing at the phone at that moment.

"Very clever little brother. Alright. I'll help. But you do as I say. No arguing. I know more than you on these matters, and what you may think is ridiculously sentimental and unnecessary, is most likely considered quite tame when it comes to romantic gestures." Mycroft said in that familiar, condescending tone.

"Yes, I get the idea, I am emotionally stunted. You've made your point. Now help." He growled.

"Okay. Let's get started..."

AN - So obviously, I am continuing with this story, this is but the introduction, but any suggestions for how he should propose would be appreciated, I'll credit any of you for the ideas that I use :) xx