Author's note: Just a little Kid!Lock fic that my brain dreamt up on the way home from work. Hope you enjoy! :)
Sherlock's love affair with pirates had started when he was just a kid; it stemmed from something completely separate from actual pirates and had converted a source of great embarrassment for him into something he could think about with ease and liking for a subject he discovered was fascinating...
For some reason, Sherlock had taken an instant dislike to the summer au pair, Rochelle, who had come to fill in for the full time nanny, Eleanor, while she was on holiday. There could be a million and one reasons for the judgement that he had made: it could have been because she had a peculiar accent, or that she had her hair cut so short that she looked a bit like a boy, or it could have been that the three year old Sherlock made a snap decision about the person in front of him – and that decision was no, he didn't like her.
Mycroft was convinced that he knew the reasons for his little brother's upset at Eleanor going away for the summer and Rochelle coming to replace her – he didn't like change. Being ten, Mycroft felt that he was much less dependant on the requisition of an au pair as Sherlock; he was more than capable of fending for himself, Sherlock still needed someone to occupy his time – and that was the reason for Rochelle.
Mycroft spent a lot of his summer holidays roaming around in the large garden of the family home and, increasingly, Sherlock was wanting to chase after him into the garden rather than being with Rochelle. Most of the time Mycroft didn't mind this; although he didn't know any other three year olds he was sure that Sherlock was much more intelligent than other kids of the same age. They were both of an age where they could escape into a world of imagination and play for hours on end, normally using characters out of the books Mycroft had read. Many hours were wiled away with Mycroft being Peter Pan and Sherlock as one of the lost boys, recounting different adventures in Neverland. During those hours playing together Mycroft came to realise that Sherlock did not hate Rochelle, he was just very wary of her. He didn't like new people, he didn't like change, and he didn't want to have to open up to someone completely new and them to go away in the end.
Only one week into the holidays, Mycroft had awoken to the sensation of a tugging on his duvet. When he fully came to consciousness he opened his eyes to see his little brother standing by the edge of his bed, his face pale and eyes wide. Mycroft had realised through bleary eyes that Sherlock was clutching his sheet behind him and was looking absolutely petrified.
"Sherlock?" He asked slightly groggily, sitting up in his bed. "What is it? Did you have an accident?" Sherlock's small eyes filled with tears as he nodded his head. "It's alright." Mycroft reassured him, climbing out of his own bed and taking hold of one of Sherlock's hands. "Come on, we'll get you changed and remake your bed so no one will know." Mycroft led his trembling little brother down the hallway into the bathroom, he placed the lid of the toilet down and sat Sherlock on it before going to collect a dry pair of pants and pyjamas out of Sherlock's drawers. He had returned to the bathroom and was helping Sherlock unbutton his pyjama top when he heard a noise from outside the bathroom, Sherlock's small fingers tightened around Mycroft's wrist in fear. A few moments later the bathroom door creaked open and there stood Rochelle, clad in a dark purple dressing gown with her hair all over the place.
"Boys?" She questioned as she saw the two of them. "Is everything alright?" She seemed to assess the situation in front of her with astonishing speed. "Did Sherlock have an accident?" Mycroft nodded in response, ignoring his brother's scowl. "It's alright Mycroft, you go back to bed, I'll clean Sherlock off." Mycroft glanced down at his little brother, then left to go back to his own bed. "Right Sherlock, let's get you cleaned up and back to bed." She said soothingly, lifting him off the seat of the toilet and standing him on his feet before finishing unbuttoning his pyjama top. "I've got just the thing for you." She said, crossing the bathroom and opening one of the cupboards. She pulled a blue packet from inside and brought it over to beside Sherlock, he looked down at it – a small frown creasing his delicate features.
"Who are they?" He asked abruptly, jabbing his finger at the cartoon characters on the front of the packet.
"They're pirates." Rochelle replied, opening the packet carefully; that was the first time Sherlock had actually addressed her personally.
"What are pirates?" He questioned innocently.
"Pirates are a kind of sailors; they sail all over the world in big ships looking for treasure."
"For treasure?" Sherlock perked up, his eyes were sparkling.
"For buried treasure, big chests full of gold and jewels and other precious things." She nodded.
"Wow..." The little boy breathed in awe. Rochelle held out what looked like a white pair of pants that she had taken from the packet and Sherlock eyed them suspiciously. "What are they?"
"These? These are pirate pants Sherlock – they'll help in case you have another accident." She explained.
"Pirate pants?" Sherlock squealed rather excitedly, balancing on one leg at a time so to step into them. He pulled his pyjama bottoms up as Rochelle began to button his top. "Will – will the pirate pants turn me into a pirate?" He asked as Rochelle took a hold of his hand to take him back to his bedroom.
"Would you like to be a pirate?" Sherlock nodded enthusiastically at Rochelle's question. "Go sailing the seven seas searching for buried treasure?" Sherlock nodded once more as he stood watching Rochelle changing the sheets on his bed, he couldn't stifle a wide yawn. Once she was finished she lifted Sherlock up into his bed. "You go to sleep little man, dream that you're a pirate."
"Will Mycroft play pirates with me?" Sherlock asked sleepily as Rochelle tucked the covers in around him.
"You can ask him tomorrow if he wants to play pirates with you. Night night." She responded, turning off his light, closing his door and leaving him to dreams of pirate adventures...
When he was older Sherlock felt no shame about admitting that his childhood love and obsession with pirates had come from the fact that he used to wet the bed; and that Rochelle had helped him stop with the introduction of the "pirate pants".
