So Sherlock and Mycroft's relationship is really interesting to me, I've been keeping this fic idea to myself for a long while now and I think it's about time I start publishing, hope you like it! Comments are welcome!
~Kels
"Sherlock Holmes, are you paying any attention to the lesson?" the studious woman crossly asked the sleeping young man. Sherlock was slouched down lifelessly, with his forehead on the edge of the table to hide his face.
Mycroft sat in the chair next to Sherlock, with less interest in the class than his brother exhibited, but was acting like it was at least mildly entertaining. Mycroft glanced at Sherlock for only a moment before he stated with a small frown, "Oh, he's asleep again."
The teacher sighed heavily, and then took up a large book in both her hands and brought it up in the air just missing where Sherlock was resting his head. She let the book drop from her grasp and fall deftly down onto the table, making a jarring boom that sent Sherlock shooting straight up almost out of his seat. The teacher watched Sherlock collect himself with a death glared and Sherlock simply stared back. After a long pause Sherlock finally said squarely with a fake smile, "Yes, Ms. Parker?"
"Do you honestly think I wouldn't notice that you were dozing off? And none the less while you and your brother are my only students." Ms. Parker asked coldly.
Sherlock shrugged, "Well with such a simple mind who knows what you wouldn't notice."
"Sherlock." Mycroft hissed in warning and Sherlock looked to his older brother with regretful obedience. Mycroft held the gaze with a deliberate eye, and after a long moment filled with the seemingly internal conversation the siblings were having, Sherlock gave into his older brother and subsided out of his stature.
"I'm Sorry, Ms. Parker." Sherlock mumbled gruffly without raising his eyes above where the textbook lay on the desk in front of him.
Watching this pathetic apology, Ms. Parker simply sighed but spoke lightly, "Class dismissed, maybe you'll take your studies more seriously tomorrow." But her students were already halfway out of the door by the time she finished her comment.
Finally out of the stuffy private school, Sherlock and Mycroft dashed into the fresh outside air. The two started the walk back to their home which consisted of Mycroft stepping unhurriedly along as Sherlock rushed along while studying everything that interested him. Sherlock came back to rejoined Mycroft with a winged beetle in hand.
"You really should treat Ms. Parker better." Mycroft murmured passively.
"But she's so boring, trying to teach us things we already know." Sherlock groaned but still held his focus on the bug.
"Flattery can go a long way, Sherlock." After a several silent moments Mycroft spoke again, "Do you ever wonder about other people?" He asked this out of pure curiosity. Having never met practically anyone besides their parents, the brothers had been extremely isolated
"No," Sherlock scoffed, "who cares? We've got each other, and if they're anything like Ms. Parker I wouldn't particularly care to meet them anyway."
Mycroft glanced at his sibling thoughtfully. Though he approved of Sherlock's introversion, there were opportunities in the possibility of other people, and Mycroft despised the uncertainty of what exactly those prospects were that he was missing out on. Glancing at the organism Sherlock held, Mycroft said matter of factly, "It's a Calopteron reticulatum."
Sherlock lost his look of determination in finding the species of insect and was replaced by disappointment. He half-heartedly lifted his hand for the beetle to fly off, "I could've figured it out myself and you know it."
"Yes," Mycroft agreed, "but you were taking much too long."
The two walked in silence, though it didn't take long for Sherlock to nearly forget that he was mad at his brother and revisit his habit of wonder, but he had just enough control to examine his points of interest from afar with a gaze. This was exactly what Mycroft loved about his little brother. He could never stay angry at Mycroft, even when he wasn't the kindest of older siblings since such manners didn't come very naturally to him. Still Sherlock would always forgive him.
That was then.