Disclaimer: I do not live in nor have I ever been to England, so my knowledge is completely based off of Sherlock, its fanfictions, and the British people I argue with.

I don't know London, but it kind of seems like England's New York City, right? So that's how I tried making it - all apartment buildings, or "blocks," I think you call it. :P So I guess the Holmeses live right outside London or something. I don't know, put your imagination to good use! :D

Also, thanks to The Lord Writer for giving me the title. :)

Hope you enjoy!


"No, I won't let! People are stupid!"

Mrs. Holmes watched unaffected as her son jumped up and down, furiously rejecting the idea of another boy coming to live with them.

"Sherlock, Mummy has already made her decision. Throwing a tantrum will only get you sent to your room," Mycroft told him easily from his position near the wall.

"Fine! I like my room!" Sherlock yelled stubbornly. "But I won't let him come!"

"We'll take away your ant farm as well."

Sherlock stopped jumping and turned to glare at who he was sure had to be the embodiment of Satan. "You wouldn't," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Seeing the opportunity to nab him without getting a flying fist in the nose, Mycroft scooped Sherlock into his arms and crossed the room to sit down, holding the small boy in place while he unsuccessfully tried to wriggle out of the strong grip.

"Please continue, Mummy," he said, ignoring his baby brother's protests.

Mrs. Holmes gave her eldest son a 'Thank you' smile before talking. "Cynthia Watson was my best friend since Uni. Her daughter got her friend's parents to take her in, but her son has nowhere to go." She slowly started to pluck her lace gloves off her fingers, her eyes knowingly trained on her children. "I will not let him be put in the foster system to be taken in by greedy people who will pocket the money meant for him and abuse him. Therefore, I have offered to take him in. Any questions?"

"I don't see why I have to suffer just because some stupid boy doesn't have a mummy," Sherlock muttered spitefully.

"Mycroft, the ant farm."

"No! No, I'm sorry! Please, I won't do it again, I promise!" Sherlock cried, small fists clutching Mycroft's shirt desperately. "Please don't take them away!" Seeing the horrified look on the young boy's face, the teen's heart almost broke and he looked to his mother for guidance. She nodded.

"Good. He's nine; only a year older than you and I think you two will get along just fine if you don't act like a brat all the time. He will be here this afternoon and I expect you to be on your best behavior, understand?"

Sherlock begrudgingly nodded and shrugged Mycroft's loosening grip off of him to slide off his lap and run to his room.

Mycroft looked at his mother and sighed. "I trust you know what you're doing."

The woman simply smiled and leaned back in her chair.

~o~0~o~

John stared out the window of the car longingly, barely noticing the change in scenery as it went from trees and grass and pretty, quaint houses to buildings upon buildings with almost no nature to be found. His mind wandered as he wondered what his new home would be like. He'd never lived in a flat before, and though he had been in friends' flats, he imagined actually living in one would be different. And what would his new family be like? He was told his mum and theirs were close, but he'd never met her and her kids. That was probably the reason for the tension bundling up his shoulders beneath his jumper.

Would they accept him? Friends hadn't really been an issue for him in school, but he'd never been to London. Maybe the people were different. Maybe they wouldn't like him for growing up poorer than them.

As they slowed down in front of a large house-no, more like mansion-John's eyes widened. "Whoa," he breathed. "It's humungous."

"It's your new home," the driver told him and he got out of the car to go around to the trunk.

"It is?" John asked with disbelief as he unbuckled and scrambled to get his stuff. The driver shook his finger in the boy's face as a way of saying he would take it, and carried the medium-sized trunk up to the house. John slid his backpack onto his shoulder and followed the man up the steps. As he grew closer, he began to feel his nerves wearing under the pressure. The house was so big and his had been like a dollhouse in comparison. He tried to calm himself as he stepped inside and was immediately greeted by a tall woman with fancy clothes (she even had a bonnet!).

"Hello, John. I'm Vivian Holmes, but you can call me Mum if you'd like." She wore a smile that even John could see was strained and waved the chauffeur off.

"Thank you, M…Mrs. Holmes," John mumbled. "Thank you for taking me in. I hope it isn't trouble for you."

She shook her head with a soft laugh. "Not at all, dear. But please, at least call me Vivian. I don't allow family to be quite so formal with names."

John nodded. "Alright. Uhm, where am I staying?"

"Sherlock will show you to your room. But before we do that, when would you like to go to get your name changed?"

"Change my name?" He looked up at the fancy lady in surprise. "Why would I do that? Is John not fancy enough?"

Vivian laughed again. "Oh no, dear. Your surname will be changed to Holmes now that you're one of us." Seeing the solemn expression on the young boy's face, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Unless, of course, you'd rather keep your own surname."

"I-if you don't mind," he requested softly.

She nodded before standing up straight and calling someone's name. A few seconds later, a young boy around John's age came into view. "I suppose I'm to show him to his room?" he asked grudgingly and John didn't miss the daggers being glared in his direction.

"Yes, Serlock. And you are to be pleasant as you do so."

"Hurry up," he snapped and John jumped a little before quickly scrambling after the brunette. "Now let's get things straight: I don't like you and I never will. and you aren't my brother, no matter what Mummy says. I already have a brother and I don't need you. Your room is here," John stopped in front of it as Sherlock did, "and mine is there and you are not to go in under any circumstances. Okay?"

John nodded quickly. "O-okay. Thank you!" he called as the rich kid stalked off to his own room. He sighed and walked into the room. This was going to be wonderful.


Review, please! :)