A/N:

Okay, okay. Soon. I will get onto Northbound soon. I just thought of this because my Mum has just booked tickets to go and see "Peter and Alice" with Ben Whishaw and Judi Dench. And last weekend I saw Olivia Poulet and Paul Chequer in "The Captain of Kopenick" at the National Theatre on the Olivier Stage.

Anyway, anyway, this story was literally an out of control idea. Ben Whishaw is obviously Q and it was just strange how this happened.

So enjoy, dear, patient, beautiful, exquisite, readers.

X x

I OWN NOTHING – WISH I DID BUT NO CIGAR.

(Plus if I owned either Benedict OR Ben neither would leave my sight ;D)

Sleeping with the Enemy

John walked into the flat, he was cold, his fingers felt like they were about to fall off. Upon entering the flat he was greeted by two voices coming from the front room.

"Sherlock, I can't stay long, you need to answer my question: can you help me?"

John's interest rose as he pushed open the door to the main living room and was greeted by Sherlock, sitting in his usual seat, and another man sitting on the sofa. John took in the man's appearance as he approached and held out his hand.

"Hello, you must be John, I've heard an awful lot about you," he said before smirking slightly at Sherlock.

John looked confusedly at Sherlock and then shook the man's hand warmly.

"Right. Hello. And you are-?" John said looking at the man, his dark hair fell across his face and his glasses were perched on his nose, John noted that the man was probably in his early thirties if not a little younger. His grey eyes seemed familiar.

"Oh, how rude, of course, there's not much resemblance between me and Sherlock, I'm his brother, call me Q," he said

John looked between the pair. Another brother.

"Wow. Really? Sherlock doesn't mention you. Not being rude or anything," John said smiling at the man

Q turned to his brother and narrowed his eyes "I think it's because of his caring side," he said mockingly "my brother doesn't like to mention me because of my job,"

"And what's that?"

"I work in the government in a special branch, and if I told you any more I think assassins may start knocking on your door," Q said jokingly, John laughed a little and Sherlock rolled his eyes despairingly.

"Anyway, thank you, Q for dropping by, always lovely to see you, goodbye," Sherlock said, steering his brother towards the door

"Ah ah ah! Sherlock, not so fast," John said looking at Sherlock sternly and turning to the younger Holmes "Q, would you like to come round to dinner? I'm sure you've got many stories to tell,"

Q looked at John, a lop-sided smile on his face and his head slightly cocked to one side.

"Well Sherlock, you were right about this one. He's very interesting, isn't he? Of course John, I'd love to come round for dinner, how would tomorrow night be? I should be able to get off work at about 8 so shall I come around at about 9pm?" he said

"Sounds great," John said, smiling sarcastically at Sherlock

And with a last wink at Sherlock, Q disappeared out the door.

John turned to Sherlock and raised his eyebrows.

"Another brother?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and went back to his chair and flopped down onto it as John made his way into the kitchen.

"Trivial matters, John. It doesn't matter that I have another brother and given the sensitivity of his work I'm sure that he'd prefer it that way," he said, flinging his head back and sighing loudly "and thank you so so much for inviting him for dinner tomorrow, I'm so looking forward to that,"

John smiled and looked in the cupboards.

"Well, before he comes I think I need to go shopping for some edible food."

Sherlock just folded his svelte body into a foetal shape and huffed.

XXXXXX

"Right, okay. The food is nearly ready. Q should be coming in," he checked his watch "half an hour and I think you should go and get dressed," John said, gesturing to Sherlock who had just walked through the kitchen door with a towel hung low on his hips and beads of water falling down his back and soaking into the fabric.

"Fine," Sherlock said, turning and walking into his room, (well, walking is an understatement, he strut.)

John just shook his head and sighed quietly and carried on preparing the food until he heard a knocking from the door downstairs. John made his way down his stairs and towards the door, he opened it and smiled at the face in front of him.

"Q, good to see you, I hope you've got plenty of stories to tell me," John said, allowing the younger man in

"Oh I don't doubt it," said a voice from above as Sherlock listened in.

"Are you dressed Sherlock?" John called

"Yes, of course I am, John," came the sultry reply

"But I have many, many occasions known where he was a little less than acceptably dressed," Q put in quietly, smiling at John "sometimes he didn't dress for days,"

"I can still hear you!" Sherlock's voice sang from above

Q and John giggled as they climbed up the stairs.

"What's for tea?" Q asked as they neared the top

"Oh, something I know I can make without killing anyone, it's just a mushroom risotto,"

"Sounds delicious"

XXXXXX

"So you really can't tell me more about your job?" John asked, leaning onto his elbows and looking at Q.

"Nope, sorry. My work is more sensitive than Mycroft's," Q replied softly looking at the man opposite, smiling softly.

Sherlock sat at the top of the table watching the two other men as they basked in the calm quiet that had settled around them. The incredulous expression on his face was far from being wiped off his face as John leant forward and wiped a little of the risotto from the corner of Q's mouth.

Sherlock had had enough.

"I'm right here!" he said loudly and the two men turned to him, collecting themselves and finishing off their wine. John's cheeks were tinged red and Q just coughed.

"May I use your toilet?" Q said suddenly and rose from the table

"Just up the stairs, on your left," John said, picking up the dishes from the table and putting them on the sideboard beside the sink.

Q just smiled and nodded slightly before heading up the stairs to the loo.

As soon as his brother was out of ear-shot Sherlock turned to John, his eyes blazing.

"What was that !" he hissed at John.

John just let out a small laugh and cocked his head to the side.

"That was me proving something Sherlock, proving that not all the Holmes' are completely unemotional," John said, turning the hot tap on which caused steam to blossom into the air "I like your brother,"

"Yes," snarled Sherlock "I can tell, however if you were planning on turning this into a date why didn't you just let me go and work on a case in Bart's?"

John smiled, Sherlock likened it to a cat his mother used to tell him about from the stories she read him before bed.

"But this is so much more enjoyable," John said, getting the cheesecake from the fridge and putting it on the table.

The door opened and Q stood in the frame, a small smile on his lips.

"I thought my ears were burning, you been talking about me, big brother?" he said taking his seat back at the table "wow, this cheesecake looks incredible, John,"

"Well, I can't take all the credit, Mrs Hudson made the topping I just crushed the biscuits," John said, licking his lips slightly.

Q just helped himself to a bowl and then cut a piece of cheesecake for himself, he then drove a fork into the pudding and took a mouthful.

"Delicious," he said, his mouth full of food. John just blushed a little.

"Christ, I can't do this anymore; I'm going to the toilet and then going to bed. Don't make too much noise, please, for everyone's sake," Sherlock huffed and then proceeded to go up the stairs to do his teeth muttering words under his breath as he went up each step.

XXXXXX

Sherlock had only been gone all of ten minutes and when he started to descend the stairs he heard the noise coming from the kitchen. Knowing the only way to get to his bedroom was via the kitchen he took and deep breath and pushed the door open only to see something that he couldn't ever wipe from his memory (no matter how much bleach he used).

Q was sitting on the edge of the table, John standing between his legs and their lips looked as if they had accidentally melted together. Q's legs were wrapped around John's waist and both of them had one hand pushed into each other's hair. They were completely oblivious to Sherlock's entrance and they both had their eyes closed in the passion of the moment, it wasn't until John opened his eyes slightly and noticed the wide-eyed Detective, frozen to the stop that he pulled away from the other man and bit his lip in insecurity.

"He-um-just, you know, had some cheesecake in the corner of his mouth," John mumbled quietly

"So you were just checking his tonsils to see if there was any there as well?" Sherlock deadpanned, glaring at his little brother, who gave a side smirk and winked. Sherlock huffed and walked into his bedroom.

"If you're planning on doing anything else, please go to a hotel or something, I don't think I can bare the noise of your acts," Sherlock said loudly before slamming his door angrily.

John just looked at Q. The younger man's eyes sparkling mischievously.

XXXXXX

Sherlock woke in the middle of the night to the sounds of a certain Doctor and his brother making the most obscene noises, picking up his pillow from the other side of the bed he wrapped his around the back of his head, covering his ears.

"ARGH! SHUT UP!" he shrieked at the men, there was silence for a second before the noises got louder, sitting up and growling pure frustration he marched up to John's bedroom door and furiously banged his fist against the wood.

"If you don't shut the fuck up right now, I will kill you both and make sure no-one ever find the bodies!" he shouted, it was only replied by the sound of his brother making the most horrendous noise, like he was having every nerve in his body lit by fire.

"John! Stop it! Stop fucking my brother!" he screamed, the noise stopped a few seconds afterwards and was replaced by the sound of a weight being lifted off the mattress and footsteps padding across to the door, which slowly creaked open and John's face appeared, holding a tartan blanket around his waist.

"Thank you for that Sherlock," he said quietly "you suitably ruined the mood,"

"Oh, please," Sherlock said, looking at the ceiling, not able to meet John's eyes "I hardly ruined the mood by the sound of it,"

John smiled wistfully.

"I have learned one thing though: not all the Holmes brothers are completely missing the sexual desire gene," John said, raising his eyebrows, Sherlock's head snapped to meet his eyes suddenly and he narrowed his eyes.

"Goodnight, John," he said "keep the noise down,"

"Will do," John said, closing the door, then opening it again "oh, Sherlock, don't go onto the sofa, believe me, I'll sort it tomorrow,"

Sherlock made a disgusted face and watched as his flatmates face disappeared.

With his nose still wrinkled he went back downstairs and back to bed.