Hey, quick disclaimer before you start. I do NOT own any of the characters in this story. x

If there is any grammar still wrong in this chapter please do point out over PM. thanks x

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Chapter One: Jumpers in Jumpers

Sherlock Holmes. It's all in the name really when you think about it, which John was at this moment. For what he and Mary were witnessing without his friends knowledge was simply unlikely. Not unbelievable and not impossible, but certainly unlike him.

"Well, well I did wonder if he could." Commented Mary as she looked out of the Holmes' living room window. "Looks the part too."

"Yeah I did when I saw the stables in the back yard. Do you think?"

"No. I do not." Came a voice from the side of them. It was Mycroft, there he stood in his suit shirt, waist coat, tie and suit trousers with a glass of whisky in his hand.

Does he ever not wear suits? John wondered.

Holmes leant against the wooden frame of the door as he continued. "I did used to however I fell out with it when I was given my first placement in the government. He however kept his horse and bought mine off me too, refused to let me sell the damn thing."

"Really? Why was that?" John enquired sitting back down in his place on the sofa after growing bored with watching the detective prance around in the field across the road.

"Because at least one of my sons has a heart." Said Mrs Holmes coming into the room with an unasked for cup of tea for Mary. "Sherlock Loves His horse and Mycroft's is the brother of it."

"How sweet."

"Yes we bought them at the same time when the boys were in their early twenties. We thought it might bring those two together as brothers. But we were wrong." She sighed and looked at her eldest who rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes how utterly sentimental and a waste of time."

"Oh Mikey…"

"Mycroft."

"You say that but you know you liked that horse. Why don't you ride him? Take him for a run."

"I'm fine thank you Mother."

"Take him for a run."

First catching Sherlock riding a horse. Next witnessing Mycroft being told off by his mother, this Christmas break at the Holmes' house looked like it was going to be a memorable one. Not perhaps as much as the one two years ago, but it certainly would be a weekend to tell the others about. Especially Molly, god what would she say to been told she missed the world's only sociopathic consulting detective riding a black stallion in some of the tightest Jodhpur's she would likely ever see. In fact his whole outfit was the most tailored and fashionable riding gear she had seen, Holmes' cream Jodhpur's, blue blazer, white turtleneck jumper and knee-high boots really suited him. He certainly gave Mr Darcy a run for his money. (Even with the hat on.)

"Mary?" John flicked her arm trying to bring her out of whatever day-dream she was in. "Oi. You in there love?"

"What?"

"Thinking you chose the wrong man?"

"No don't be stupid. I couldn't put up with 'that'."

Mrs Holmes laughed out at this statement about her son. "Feel sorry for me I'm their mother. And you Mycroft Holmes are going to get on that horse before you leave. I mean it."

"Fine." He sighed and left drinking the last of his drink.

"Take the glass." His mother stated not even looking at him for the arm-chair she sat in.

He jumped off his horse and tied him to the fence by his rains. "What've you done now you daft git hmm?" Sherlock pick up the horses back left hoof and pulled it up between his legs. "Ah there we are you always manage to get something in there don't you." Holmes had never understood people who talked to their animal like they were humans, but after spending such a long time around Molly and barely any with Thief he found himself wanting to apologise to him. "Hold still or I'll leave it in." tapping him on the bum lightly with the handle of the crop. "There better now?" Sherlock stepped back and let him relax.

It was the perfect day to ride. The air was warm, there was a crispness in the air and in the grass, but the ground was not too hard under the horse's hooves. All the leaves were gone from the trees and the hedges showed the bird's nests. Thief was clearly getting bored with jumping, but was far from tired, he would no doubt kick at his door repeatedly if he was to be taken in now.

"Smile."

"What?" Sherlock turned to find Mary Watson holding her camera phone up ready to take his picture.

"There we go. I now have a picture of a horse's arse and the stallion he has just ridden." She said with a smirk.

"Was that meant to be funny?"

"I thought it was yes." Her fingers were typing quickly and her eyes fixed to down on the phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving and sending it."

"To whom?"

"Molly Hooper."

"Cancel it and get rid of it!" Sherlock growled at her. He liked Mary but this was going a bit far and hardly funny. "Mary delete it."

"Too late, but don't worry, I plan on doing the same to your brother when he comes out."

"Sorry what?"

Sighing she began to explain what had just gone on and how she and John had watched him for about twenty minutes before Mycroft had entered the room. Sherlock began to smirk at the thought of seeing his brother on his horse again. Last time he went near it, it had tried to bite him. Can't blame the poor beast. After all they do say horses are a great judge of character. "You still shouldn't have sent it to Molly."

*Ping*

Take a look at this – Mary x

*Downloading Image…*

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