I don't know what you'll think of this but it was an idea that popped into my head and I couldn't get rid of it. To be honest I think the only reason I find it funny is because my brother used to threaten me with this when I was younger. It's completely different from what I would normally write but we all need a bit of variety don't we.
In an alternate universe I may own Sherlock but sadly this is this universe, so I don't. If I did own Sherlock, however, I'd hurry up and start producing the next series… just saying.
What is one to do about Mycroft Holmes?
A six year old Sherlock swung happily on his father's office chair. Technically, he wasn't supposed to use his father's chair but then again technically he wasn't supposed to be in his office or using his computer either so what was one more rule broken? The lock into the office was pitiful at best; Sherlock barely touched it with his home-made lock picking kit and it basically fell open. The hardest part about the whole operation was getting onto the chair so he could reach the desk, he was a short child. The password was obvious too, the one bookshelf that was obvious from where he was sitting was full up with books about the violin and books of violin music. And his father's favourite violin was the Stradivarius, voila, why was his father so dull and obvious.
The reason for the whole operation was quite simple; Sherlock did not like his brother Mycroft. That and he needed revenge, Mycroft had revealed that he had replaced his teacher's hand sanitizer with hydrochloric acid, and she hadn't even had time to use it. He defended himself with the excuse that he had diluted it before replacing it nobody seemed to care; Mummy had banned him from chemistry experiments for a week. He was bored so he plotted revenge.
The next day
Sherlock sat in his father's office chair, only this time he wasn't swinging. He sat stock still, glaring petulantly up at Father, Mummy and Mycroft, arms folded, lips tight together and brow furrowed up in frustration. "What did you do?" asked Mummy in an exasperated tone. There was no reply from her son so Father had a go.
"Sherlock, after the last time you snuck into my office I had a video camera installed, it will show me footage of anyone sneaking in here the next time I log onto my computer." Perhaps not so obvious then Sherlock thought and gave a little grin which provoked a sigh from his father. "Come on Sherlock, if you tell us what you were doing you won't get into so much trouble."
Wordlessly Sherlock stretched across to the computer and switched it on. While he waited to be able to log in he glared at Mycroft who glared back, it was a battle of wills nobody ever won. He typed in his father's password and then pulled up his recent activity and turned the monitor towards his brother and sibling.
For sale: 13 year old human male, fat, annoying, lazy.
There was a simultaneous cry of, "Sherlock!" by the three elder members of the room. Mummy massaged her temples in an effort to keep herself calm, father rubbed the bridge of his nose despairingly and Mycroft shot his brother the death glare.
"You tried to sell your brother on ebay," stated Mummy.
"Obviously."
"In the Everything Else category."
"Correct."
"And for 50p."
"Yes, stop stating the obvious."
"Why?" demanded Mycroft angrily.
"Because you are fat and annoying and you reported me for that whole hand sanitizer, hydrochloric acid debacle. You had no business doing such a thing."
"Sherlock! That is a horrible thing to say to your brother," said his father in frustration.
"Yes, that was rather the point, anyway, he asked." There was a brief moment of silence when Sherlock glanced at the computer monitor. "oh, I thought 50p was a bit much, I didn't think anyone would waste 50p on him."
"What are you on about Sherlock?" asked Mummy in an exasperated tone.
"Somebody has bid."