SHERLOCK

JAWN

Author's Note:

Main Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Side Pairing: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade

About: I got a lovely comment about my young!Johnlock on "Give Me A Label" from Sunshine Through The Storm. And then I wrote this. Basically young!Johnlock, with Sherlock and John being adorable, and Mrs Hudson being the very best thing ever, with some teen!Mystrade thrown in.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content in later chapters, explicit language, mentions of child abuse and violence, homophobia, underage drinking/smoking

Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to the BBC, Mark Gatiss, and Steve Moffat. The original characters are the property of Arthur Conan Doyle. I own nothing but the plot and make no money from this story.

Written For: Sunshine Through The Storm

Note: This was originally a one-shot (just the first chapter) but after some demands it turned into a multiple-chapter story. It follows Sherlock and John from ten-years-old to eighteen-years-old.

PART I

Ten-Years-Old

Ten-year-old Sherlock thought that the new nanny- Mrs Hudson- would be like all the others. He thought she'd shout at him for being loud, smart, weird, and for his various experiments. The last one had even slapped him when he'd managed to completely destroy the dining room table after playing around with his older brother's science equipment.

Though Mycroft had been annoyed with the younger Holmes for taking his stuff- and for destroying a priceless table- he'd been furious with the woman. After shouting at her for laying a hand on his brother, and threatening to completely destroy her life with his various contacts, the seventeen-year-old had grabbed the middle-aged woman by her arm and violently tossed her out the door.

Siger Holmes hadn't been happy either. Though he was barely around to take care of his sons, and hadn't really been a constant in their lives, even before their mother died, Siger drew the line at raising a hand to his children. He'd had the woman fired from her agency, her assets frozen, and the last Sherlock heard she'd been shipped off to America to never again work with children.

Sometimes it was fun being a Holmes.

The only downside was that now the boys needed a new nanny. Of course, Mycroft was seventeen; he didn't need anyone to take care of him. But between studying for his A-Levels, applying to various universities, and sneaking his boyfriend Greg into the house at night, Mycroft didn't have time to take care of his brother.

So, a new nanny was needed.

Sherlock always claimed he could take care of himself. And he could, honest. He just forgot that he was ten; he was still too short to reach the taps in the large kitchen. He couldn't reach the freezer or microwave either. And dragging chairs across the expansively tiled floor was a big no-no.

Sherlock also forgot that he was a growing boy and needed three meals a day, proper rest, and to actually open his school bag and do his homework. He needed an adult to remind him of, and get him to do, these things. He also needed someone to watch him when John Watson wasn't around.

John Watson was the same age as Sherlock, only a few months older. He and his family- a nurse mother, soldier father, and high school-aged sister- had moved to the neighbourhood two years earlier. Sherlock and John had immediately hit it off, and though it had confused Mycroft and Siger (both knew that Sherlock was just a bit too smart to get along with people his own age), the two older Holmeses had seen the arrival of John Watson as a blessing.

For some reason, John got Sherlock. He understood that he was brilliant, amazing, and really a good kid. He said things like, 'Brilliant,' when Sherlock came up with and carried out a new experiment. He laughed when Sherlock flounced around dramatically and called people, 'Stupid.' He stood up for Sherlock and smacked other kids when they teased or bullied the younger Holmes.

John Watson was a delightful, kind, and smart little boy.

And he was Sherlock's best friend.

Sherlock was brought from his thoughts by a knock at the door and he scowled. That'd be the new nanny, then. Siger had rushed out of the large manor house three hours earlier, kissing Sherlock atop his messy black head and telling him to behave.

Mycroft had been standing off to the side sucking back on a cigarette- yet again- and had just rolled his eyes when his father told him to stop smoking. Mycroft was still in the "stupidly cliché rebellious stage" of his teenage years. At least that's what Sherlock called it.

Mycroft stubbed his cigarette out in the glass ashtray he'd been using for years and walked across the wooden floorboards, sneakered footsteps echoing softly around the vast room. Sherlock folded his arms and put on his best "I hate you" face as Mycroft opened the large wooden door.

Sherlock rolled his eyes when he saw that it was Gregory Lestrade, Mycroft's boyfriend. The other teenager was tall and skinny, with a head of messy brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. His skin seemed to be permanently tanned despite living in good old England and his boyish smile was enough to make Mycroft melt.

Sherlock poked his tongue out as he watched the two older teenagers start to eat each other's faces. He didn't understand why anyone would want to kiss anyone else, man or woman. Mycroft had come out when he was sixteen- Sherlock had been nine- and since then he'd been dating Gregory Lestrade.

There were now soft sucking sounds and moans, as well as the clink of the two chains hanging from Greg's jeans jerking together as the teenagers made out. Mycroft groped for the door and slammed it shut, never once moving away from Greg's lips.

Honestly, what the hell was the matter with them? Sherlock thought. All they ever did was kiss and grope each other and have sex (Sherlock's bedroom was next to Mycroft's, and the younger Holmes spent half his time banging on the walls telling them to shut it).

There was another knock on the door and Mycroft and Greg broke apart, both flushed and panting slightly.

'Sorry, I have to meet with the new nanny,' Mycroft said.

Greg groaned and wrapped his arms around Mycroft's waist. 'Can't Sherlock do it?' he whined. 'I wanna make out.'

Sherlock made a choking noise but the two ignored him. 'I'll just be a minute, then we can go out,' Mycroft promised. Greg grinned and pecked his boyfriend on the lips before letting Mycroft go.

Mycroft walked back to the door and opened it, revealing a tall woman with sandy-coloured hair, and a ten-year-old boy.

John Watson was short for his age, with light brown hair and large, dark blue eyes. He was wearing jeans and a red-and-white striped jumper, his fingers currently twisting in the soft fabric.

'Hello, John, Mrs Watson,' Mycroft greeted.

'Hi, Mycroft,' the woman smiled. 'Sorry about this, but I was wondering if you could watch John for the day? Hamish has a doctor's appointment and Harry ran off to God knows where at five am.'

'Of course,' Mycroft said, wiping discreetly at his slightly swollen lips. Mrs Watson noticed and looked past Mycroft to see Greg.

'Hello, Greg,' she smiled.

'Mrs Watson,' Greg smiled back, a faint blush working across his cheeks.

Sherlock had been lost in thought- wondering about the new nanny, how his current experiment would turn out when he stuck it in the microwave, whether or not he could interrupt Mycroft and Greg's afternoon together to ensure his brother got really mad- and was brought out of them at the sound of Mrs Watson's voice.

He immediately slid from the sofa and raced across the foyer, feet pounding against the floorboards as he swung into view of the front door.

His face broke out into a massive grin, blue eyes wide with delight, and he practically shouted, 'Jawn!'

Mycroft was constantly teasing Sherlock for pronouncing the smaller boy's name as "Jawn" instead of "John". Sherlock couldn't help it, though. Other people were John; this was Jawn. His best friend, his companion, his absolute favourite thing in the whole wide world.

The other kids hated Sherlock. Most adults did too. Only Mycroft, Greg, Siger, and John seemed to think Sherlock was okay.

John beamed back at him and said, 'Hi, Sherlock.'

Sherlock pushed his brother aside and leapt at John, wrapping his long arms around the smaller boy's neck and pulling him into a strong hug. John wasted no time in hugging Sherlock back, burying his face in Sherlock's neck, his arms winding around Sherlock's slim waist.

Mycroft, Greg, and Mrs Watson watched with faint amusement. At first the relationship between the two had been odd; they never shut up about each other when they were alone or together, they ignored all other kids in favour of each other, and were practically joined at the hip.

Now it was just natural. Two years of the two spending all their time together, playing and creating experiments and pretending to be the Doctor or Harry Potter or officers for Scotland Yard, had made this an expected event.

All thought the same thing; when puberty hit, there would be no separating them. There was just a connection between them, an understanding of each other that was so deep, so strong, that everyone knew they'd end up together.

Of course Sherlock and John thought that was disgusting. Why would anyone want to kiss anyone else? It was just horrible! Hand-holding and cuddling and hugging, yes. Kissing? HELL NO!

Sherlock and John finally drew back, but not before John had threaded his fingers through Sherlock's and squeezed. Sherlock beamed brightly and said, 'Are you here for the entire day, are you?'

John looked at his mum, who nodded, smiling. 'Until at least eight or nine tonight.'

'But that's not long enough!' Sherlock complained. 'Jawn has to stay forever!'

'Sherlock, tomorrow's Monday,' Mycroft said.

'So?' Sherlock scowled at his brother.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'School, brother dear.'

'School's boring,' Sherlock complained.

'Yeah,' John agreed readily. 'Can't I stay, Mum, please?'

He gave his mother his best puppy-dog eyes, complete with quivering bottom-lip, and Mrs Watson chuckled. 'I'll see, honey, okay?'

John beamed brightly and Sherlock grinned too, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 'Come along, Jawn.'

He tugged the shorter boy into the house and John waved goodbye to his mother.

'Thanks for this, Mycroft,' Mrs Watson said.

'Not a problem,' Mycroft smiled. 'I'll be here all day; the new nanny's due at any minute.'

'Ah, well tell me what she's like,' Mrs Watson said. 'That last one was horrible; I have half a mind to track her down and slap her.'

Mycroft chuckled. Mrs Watson didn't always get Sherlock- she thought he was odd- but she still cared about the younger Holmes.

Mycroft, Greg and Mrs Watson chatted for a few minutes before the woman left. Mycroft and Greg immediately scampered over to the sofa and fell atop each other, lips locked and arms wrapped around each other. Sherlock and John were already raiding the fridge for snacks.

'But it's too early for chocolate, Sherlock,' John was saying. He stood beside the kitchen counter, arms folded over his chest, with his best stern-expression on his face.

Sherlock was climbing the shelves in the large double-doored fridge, poking his head into the back looking for the chocolate he knew Mycroft had hidden.

'But it's chocolate, Jawn,' Sherlock said, like that made up for it being 9am.

'So?' John said. 'We're not supposed to eat chocolate before midday, Mum said so.'

'That's your mother, not mine.'

'But your mother said the same thing before she passed on,' John said.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'Dad's not here to tell me no, Mycroft's busy eating Lestrade's face, and the new nanny isn't here to stop me. So I can do what I want.'

'I'll stop you,' John promised. He raced forward as he said it and grabbed Sherlock by the hips, pulling his best friend back.

'No, lemme go!' Sherlock screeched. 'I want chocolate!'

The only thing Sherlock loved more than experiments was chocolate.

'No, Sherlock, stop it!' John said.

'I want chocolate!' Sherlock argued again.

John was a stocky boy, with at least ten pounds on Sherlock, and easily lifted him from the fridge.

'Jawn, lemme down!' Sherlock shrieked.

John planted Sherlock on the floor but kept his arms firmly around his best friend. 'How about a biscuit?' he asked. 'We'll have biscuits and watch Doctor Who.'

Sherlock paused at that, head cocked to one side. Before he could say yes Mycroft stomped into the kitchen. His lips were swollen, hair all over the place, and his shirt was un-buttoned halfway down his torso.

'What the bloody hell are you two doing in here?' he demanded.

'Sherlock wants chocolate,' John said.

'No, Sherlock,' Mycroft scowled. 'If you have chocolate you'll end up on the bloody roof again.'

'I wasn't gonna jump,' Sherlock pouted. 'I just wanted to see the grounds from the roof, and see how far my plane could go if I threw it from that height.'

'And you ended up breaking it, as well as scratching my car,' Mycroft said. 'So no, no chocolate.'

'I hate you!' Sherlock huffed.

'I love you too,' Mycroft said, rolling his eyes. 'John, get him a biscuit, and then you two shut the hell up.'

Sherlock poked his tongue out and Mycroft left, grumbling about idiotic children under his breath.

'Puberty makes you annoying,' Sherlock commented.

John giggled- thinking about all the times he and Sherlock had annoyed Mycroft and Greg when they were trying to get off- and finally let the other boy go. 'We'll be teenagers soon,' he said.

'But we won't be that stupid,' Sherlock said. 'I'm not gonna go all weird just 'cause some guy offers to stick his tongue in my mouth.'

'Definitely not,' John nodded. 'Why would anyone wanna do that?'

''Cause they're stupid,' Sherlock said.

'Stupid,' John agreed.

Sherlock beamed brightly at him and straightened his shirt out. 'Fine, I'll have a biscuit.'

'There ya go,' John smiled. He walked across the kitchen and pulled the pantry door open, stepping in and grabbing a packet of biscuits from one of the middle shelves.

He and Sherlock walked through the house and into the sitting room. Sherlock flopped onto the sofa while John got the TV and DVD on, grabbing series 2 of Doctor Who from the DVD cabinet.

'Doomsday!' Sherlock demanded.

'Why?' John whined. 'It's sad.'

'So?' Sherlock said. 'I'm here, I'll protect you.'

'But I don't like Rose leaving,' John pouted.

'I'll protect you,' Sherlock vowed again. John sighed and finally relented, putting in the last disk. 'We can have a marathon after, start from the old Doctor Who,' Sherlock promised.

John smiled and said, 'Deal,' before grabbing the remote and jumping onto the sofa. He and Sherlock snuggled together, John leaning heavily against the taller boy while Sherlock sat against the armrest.

They fell into silence as the DVD started and Sherlock ripped the packet of biscuits open, cramming two into his mouth and chewing. John nibbled on one and moved closer to his best friend while Doomsday started.

The two watched in silence until the episode started to come to an end, John moving closer and closer to Sherlock. When Rose was trapped in the parallel universe, Sherlock wrapped an arm around John's small shoulders and tugged him close, John practically burrowing into his best friend and hiding against his chest.

'It's okay, Jawn,' Sherlock promised.

'It's sad,' John mumbled.

Sherlock would never admit it, but Doomsday was his favourite episode of Doctor Who for this reason; John always hid against him, body curled up against Sherlock's, and Sherlock liked the contact. He didn't know why, but he always felt at ease when John was in his arms. Mycroft liked to say that it was love, but Sherlock always shouted and hit him when he did. It wasn't love; John was just special.

When the episode was over Sherlock wiped John's tears away and put on an older episode of Doctor Who. Before he could sit down Mycroft was calling his name, and John smiled at him as Sherlock cursed and stomped off to find his brother.

'What?' Sherlock demanded.

'Mrs Hudson is here,' Mycroft said, 'she's the new nanny.' He was standing in the foyer with an equally ruffled-looking Greg, and there was a woman Sherlock had never met before standing beside them.

Sherlock guessed her age to be late forties, and she was wearing a slim-fitting navy blue dress, comfortable looking shoes, and had a black coat folded over one thin arm. Her hair was short and streaked various shades of grey, and she smiled at Sherlock broadly.

'You must be Sherlock,' she said.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he folded his arms. 'So what if I am?'

'Sherlock, don't be rude,' Mycroft hissed.

'Oh, it's not a problem, my dear,' Mrs Hudson reassured the elder Holmes. 'He just doesn't know me yet.'

'I don't wanna know you,' Sherlock said.

Mrs Hudson nodded and gave Sherlock a warm smile. 'I heard about the last nanny, I can't believe anyone would do that to a child, especially one as adorable as you.'

'I'm not a child and I'm not adorable!' Sherlock snapped, stamping his foot.

Mrs Hudson chuckled while Greg snickered, Mycroft rolling his eyes. 'Yes, well, Mrs Hudson's here to watch you while Gregory and I are busy,' he said.

'What, busy having sex?' Sherlock asked.

Mycroft blushed and Mrs Hudson said, 'Sherlock, don't be mean; your brother's private life isn't to be talked about.'

'But that's what they always do!' Sherlock argued. 'They only ever stop mauling each other to come up for air!'

'Well they're young, dear,' Mrs Hudson said. 'It'll happen to you one day.'

'It will not!' Sherlock snapped, looking appalled at the very thought.

'Sherlock, stop acting like a child,' Mycroft said. 'And behave,' he added when Sherlock opened his mouth to argue. The older teenager turned to Mrs Hudson. 'Gregory and I will be here all day, but we'll most likely be in my room,' he blushed at that but continued, 'dinner is always at seven, and Father's number is taped to the fridge in case there's an emergency.'

'He has business,' Sherlock drawled, rolling his eyes on the last word. 'Boring business.'

'Of course; all adult stuff is boring,' Mrs Hudson agreed.

Sherlock eyed her carefully. 'Do you mean that?' he asked. 'Or are you just agreeing with me so I'll like you?'

'I can't force you to like me, Sherlock,' Mrs Hudson said. 'But I really do think adult stuff is boring. It's why I'm a nanny.'

Sherlock didn't know whether to believe her or not, and just watched as Mycroft spoke again to the woman.

'Don't let him near my bedroom, anything sharp, anything that can be used to make a weapon-'

'Which is basically everything,' Greg cut in.

'- and don't let him near a phone or he'll call the police looking for cases to solve,' Mycroft continued. 'Sherlock is under no circumstances to have chocolate before three o'clock, or any type of high-sugar drink unless I'm here to watch him.'

Mrs Hudson nodded along and asked a few questions before Mycroft and Greg left, practically running up the stairs together. She then turned to Sherlock, who was still standing at the other end of the room, staring at her.

'Why don't you tell me about yourself, dear?' she asked as she hung her coat up.

'I'm a genius,' Sherlock stated bluntly. 'I like information, experiments, people-watching, Doctor Who, and science.'

'You're quite a diverse young man, aren't you?' Mrs Hudson hummed.

Sherlock just stared.

'Sherlock?'

The two turned at the voice and Mrs Hudson said, 'Who's that?'

'Only the most special and best thing ever,' Sherlock said, like the woman's question was stupid.

'Well why don't you show me?' Mrs Hudson asked, both intrigued and amused.

Sherlock nodded and she followed him down the hallway and into the sitting room. Mrs Hudson raised an eyebrow when she saw the small boy sitting on the sofa. Sherlock bounced over to him and grabbed his hand, waving their joined arms around.

'And who's this?' Mrs Hudson asked.

'This is Jawn,' Sherlock beamed, always ready to show-off his John. 'He's my best friend.'

'Is he now?' Mrs Hudson smiled.

John blushed and nodded, his dark blue eyes flicking between Sherlock, Mrs Hudson and the floor. 'Nice to meet you, ma'am,' he said politely.

'Please, call Me Mrs Hudson,' the woman smiled.

'Jawn's the best,' Sherlock announced. 'He does experiments with me, and watches Doctor Who with me, and reads Harry Potter with me, and we go to school together and eat together and do everything together because Jawn's awesome!'

Sherlock spoke quickly, words tumbling over each other, and Mrs Hudson had to step closer to hear him. It was clear the two boys were completely captivated with one another and she found it adorable.

John was bright pink by the end of Sherlock's ramble but had a stupid smile on his face and Mrs Hudson chuckled.

'Well how about we have a snack and do something fun?' she asked. 'We could watch Doctor Who, read Harry Potter, or you could show me your experiments.'

Sherlock gaped at her. 'You wanna see my experiments?' he asked. Usually all the nannies were mortified by what Sherlock considered fun, and ran as fast as they could or locked Sherlock in another room.

'Of course I do, they sound fascinating,' Mrs Hudson said.

That was all the motivation Sherlock needed. After eating a few more biscuits and drinking juice on Mrs Hudson's orders, the young boy proceeded to show Mrs Hudson- and explain in great detail- every single experiment he was currently running.

Mrs Hudson asked questions when she was confused, and got Sherlock to explain why he ran the experiments he did. John joined in when Sherlock forgot something and the three spent most of the day in Sherlock's "lab", Sherlock either bouncing around the room, waving stuff around, or hugging John.

When Mycroft and Greg appeared, both smoothing their clothes down and trying to hide the various love-bites they'd given each other, Sherlock, John and Mrs Hudson were in the sitting room watching Doctor Who, John talking animatedly about the show, having Sherlock and Mrs Hudson's complete attention.

Mycroft stood in the doorway with Greg by his side, watching as Sherlock grinned at Mrs Hudson. He'd never seen his brother take to someone this well- not since he'd met John Watson.

'Mycroft!' Sherlock said when he spotted his brother. 'Mrs Hudson likes the Tenth Doctor too!'

'Does she?' Mycroft questioned.

Sherlock nodded vigorously. 'And Rose is her favourite companion, and she likes all the bad guys we do, and she likes experiments and chocolate and Harry Potter!'

Mrs Hudson smiled at Mycroft, who was quick to return the gesture.

'Now, how about some dinner?' Mrs Hudson said, clapping her hands together.

'But Doctor Who!' Sherlock complained.

'We're not even up to series three!' John said.

'We can watch some more after dinner before John's mother picks him up,' Mrs Hudson said. Both boys pouted and Mycroft and Greg chuckled. 'How about I talk to Mrs Watson and see if John can spend the night?' the woman suggested. 'That way you can watch Doctor who in your jim-jams.'

John's eyes lit up and Sherlock bounced around shouting, 'Yes, Jawn can stay over and we can watch Doctor Who and eat biscuits and talk 'bout experiments and-'

They calmed Sherlock and John down long enough to eat dinner, Sherlock continuing to prattle on about his day with Mrs Hudson and John, while John smiled brightly at him. Mrs Hudson and Mycroft had both spoken to Mrs Watson, and John's mother agreed to let her son sleep over. She came over at seven with John's uniform and told her son to behave.

Sherlock and John changed into their pyjamas and sat on the sofa together under Sherlock's duvet, watching Doctor Who. They both told Mrs Hudson all about each episode and the woman just smiled and asked questions when they stopped talking long enough for her to get a word in.

When it hit nine o'clock, Mycroft announced it was bed time. Sherlock and John complained a bit both were tired from their day, so they eventually gave up and headed upstairs with Mrs Hudson.

The nanny made sure the boys brushed their teeth before they both climbed into Sherlock's large bed and settled down.

'You boys want me to read you a story?' Mrs Hudson asked.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'We're ten, almost eleven; we don't need bedtime stories.'

'Okay, dear,' Mrs Hudson chuckled.

She watched as John leaned over and whispered in Sherlock's ear. Sherlock looked at John before his bright blue eyes flicked to Mrs Hudson. 'Do you like Jawn?' he demanded. ''Cause if you don't then we have a serious problem.'

'Of course I do,' Mrs Hudson said. 'How could I not?'

'Exactly,' Sherlock said. ''Cause Jawn's awesome.'

'Absolutely awesome,' Mrs Hudson agreed.

John brushed brightly and mumbled, 'I like you too, Mrs Hudson; you're nice.'

'Thank you, dear,' the woman smiled.

Sherlock looked between them before huffing. 'Fine, I suppose... Ilikeyoutoo,' he mumbled.

'Don't be rude, Sherlock,' John said, nudging him.

'I'm not,' Sherlock whined. John raised an eyebrow and Sherlock said, 'Fine.' He stared pointedly at Mrs Hudson. 'I. Like. You. Too.' And then he rolled over, tugging the duvet over his head, and buried himself in John's side.

John smiled and said, 'He's just shy.'

'Am not,' came Sherlock's muffled voice.

Mrs Hudson chuckled. 'Not a problem, dears. I hope you had fun today.'

'Definitely,' John nodded. 'Thank you for taking care of us today; it was real awesome.'

'I had fun too,' Mrs Hudson said. 'And I'll be back tomorrow afternoon to watch you, okay?'

John nodded and settled down to sleep. Mrs Hudson said goodnight and got up to leave, pausing at the door to look back. Sherlock had his arms wrapped around John and was snuggled into him, face pressed to John's chest. She watched as John pressed a kiss to the top of Sherlock's head before closing his eyes.

Mrs Hudson headed back downstairs and walked into the sitting room to say goodbye to Mycroft and Greg. The two were on the sofa together, Mycroft with one arm thrown over the armrest, the other curled around Greg's tall body. Greg had cuddled into his boyfriend's side and Mrs Hudson smiled at the picture.

'Oh, Mrs Hudson,' Mycroft said when he noticed her. 'Did Sherlock and John go to sleep okay?'

'They were knackered, the poor things,' Mrs Hudson said. 'Sherlock certainly has a lot of energy.'

'John does that to him,' Mycroft said.

'I swear, he's absolutely insane when John's around,' Greg added.

'Or Jawn, as Sherlock likes to call him,' Mycroft said. The three shared a laugh before Mycroft stood to see the woman out. 'I hope John and my brother weren't too much trouble,' Mycroft said as Mrs Hudson collected her coat.

'They're certainly a handful, but they're wonderful boys,' Mrs Hudson said. 'Very special, and their friendship is absolutely amazing.'

'Yes, they're quite fond of each other,' Mycroft agreed. 'I was worried about Sherlock but now he has John to take care of him.'

Mrs Hudson nodded before pressing a kiss to Mycroft's cheek. 'I'll see you tomorrow, dear,' she said.

'Thank you again, Mrs Hudson,' Mycroft smiled. The nanny stepped out of the house and walked down the dark drive to her car, thoughts spinning around the two boys she'd just met.

Mrs Hudson loved children; she loved taking care of them and helping them grow. Sherlock was a special kid, that much was clear. He needed to be kept busy, he needed to learn, but most importantly; he needed someone to understand him and his needs.

And Mrs Hudson was positive that she'd be spending many years watching over Sherlock and his Jawn.