"Come now, brother dear. You must stop these… These…"

"Mischievous outings? Sneaking out? Escaping your grasp?"

"Childish shenanigans."

"Oh." The dark, curly-haired man flopped down onto his massive bed. "But I am not a child, therefore-"

"If you act like a child, you will be treated like one! Really now, little brother, this must end."

"I cannot help that there is nothing to do in this entire god-forsaken building."

The older man huffed. "There is plenty to do."

"Liar."

"You could go ride a horse."

"Dull."

"Or you could take up fencing."

"How incredibly dull."

"Go read in the library then."

"I already have."

"Could you at least try to keep yourself occupied?"

The younger man sat up, annoyed. "I am! I have been! You don't need to babysit me, Mycroft! I am perfectly fine!"

"Clearly you aren't!" Mycroft took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Sherlock, you are making our entire family look bad."

"Worse than you already do? Well that's quite the accomplishment then." The man fell back onto his bed with a sigh.

The older brother's shoulders slumped for a moment before he stood up straight again. "You are being assigned a new guard."

This had Sherlock jumping out of the bed. "I've escaped before, I'll do it again." He was fed up with his brother's hovering. He wasn't about to be babysat by another idiot attempting to get on the good side of his family.

"This is the fifteenth one this month! Just give him a try, will you? He's different."

"The other fourteen were ridiculously simple when you claimed they were the best of the best. Am I wrong? No I am not. I never am, and I am not going to be wrong about this one. He will be gone before the week is out, I guarantee it!" Sherlock strode up to stand right in front of his older brother. "You aren't king yet, Mycroft. You. Can't. Control. Me." He studied the other man's expression and smirked. "Ah… I see… That bugs you, doesn't it? Drives you crazy that you can command an army, yet can't control your pesky little brother."

The lighter-haired man turned away. "It does not matter how it affects me. What matters is that you do not get into anymore trouble!"

Sherlock grinned and sat back on his bed. "You'll need me. You know you'll be lost without me. Crime rates will go up. People will riot or die. Criminals on the loose!" His voice began to rise and he stood on his bed. "Animals escaping! Mass hysteria as the kingdom tries to go on without their Prince Sherlock solving crimes and mysteries!"

"Enough with the drama, Sherlock." Mycroft started walking for the door. "Your new guard will be here within the hour. Try not to injure yourself until then."

"No promises!" Sherlock called as the door slammed shut. He groaned and fell back onto the bed. He watched the ceiling for a moment, then rolled onto his stomach on the side of his bed. He snatched a handgun off his bedside table and checked the weight. It had five bullets left, judging by the weight. He sighed and aimed at the wall. He fired off one shot, then another, then rolled onto his back and fired off the last three. He sighed and was about to grab another clip from his private stash of ammunition when the door burst open.

"Your Highness? Your Highness? Are you alright?" A short, blonde man in a military captain's uniform ran in. Clearly he was supposed to be his new guard.

'Interesting…' Sherlock sat up and studied the man. 'Experienced. Stiff shoulder. Injured. Most likely recently. Shot in battle? Yes. Definitely. New. Unaccustomed to my… antics. This will be fun.' He grinned. "Hello there."

The shorter man's eyes were wide as he took in the entire room, a hand on the gun in his holster. Then his eyes roved over the young prince. Judging by his gaze, he had a medical background. 'Very interesting...'

"Were you shooting the wall?" The new guard asked incredulously.

"Of course." Sherlock said simply. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know." The man shrugged. "You like solving crimes, don't you?"

"Ah, so you've heard of me." Sherlock stood on his bed, walked off the edge and up to the man. "Afghanistan or Iraq?"

The man blinked and took a step back. "Wh-. Wait, what?"

"Afghanistan. Or. Iraq?" The prince said slowly, pronouncing every word clearly.

"Afghanistan. How did you-?"

"Clearly you are a man of military background. Your reflexes say experience in tense situations. Your uniform tells me you are a captain. You stand straight with a stiff shoulder, you were probably injured. Recently, if I had to guess. If you had been born with it, you would be able to hide it. If it was just a random "slept-on-it-wrong" situation, you would be in more pain and moving it even less. You have tan lines-"

"Alright, alright!" The man was smirking. "That was amazing, and you are barely talking slow enough that I can understand you. Clearly I am outmatched."

"Clearly." Sherlock said in a bored voice. He sighed and turned away. "Why don't we just keep this simple. I'll escape and you'll go running to my brother to tell him I went missing. You'll get reassigned and you won't have to deal with me anymore." He sounded exasperated, like he was sick of saying this.

The blonde man laughed. "You think you will get rid of me that easily?" He saluted the prince. "Captain John Watson, your Highness. I'll be your… Assistant until you or Prince Mycroft deem otherwise."

Sherlock had started to climb back on his bed, but suddenly turned back to face the other man. "Assistant?"

John nodded. "I was instructed to keep an eye on you and protect you, and judging by your persistence to solve crimes, I will simply have to follow you and help you where you go."

The dark-haired man studied him. "You saw a lot of bloody and horrible things as an army doctor, didn't you?"

Watson snickered. "I'm not even going to ask how you knew that, but yes. Enough to last a lifetime."

Prince Sherlock grinned. "Would you like to see some more?"

"Oh god, yes."

The curly-haired man laughed. "Come." He snatched a long coat off his bed and strode out the door, leaving his new guard to follow behind him.