A/N: I wanted to experiment with omegaverse and somehow, this came to be.

Exaggerated the characterization slightly to make things humorous. Also, apologies, English is not my first language. I live in the mountains, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by bears.

Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to BBC and the Godtiss.


It's far from unexpected, really. A part of Sherlock has always known that this whole thing is inevitable. Mycroft went through with it and so did every other member of the family. But as Sherlock has never been reasonable when angered, the tantrum that comes after the announcement is also quite far from unexpected.

"NO!" Sherlock is on the floor, screaming at the top of his lungs. "I DON'T WANT TO!"

Greg's ears are in pain. Also his face. He thinks it's quite unfair that it's him who gets hit with the shoe when really it should be Mycroft. He's the one who broke the news to Sherlock. Greg turns to him to make him see the injustice of this all. Mycroft's response is to sigh and hand him a bunch of tissues. He then tells Greg to wipe his nose which is beginning to bleed.

They stare at Sherlock who glares back at them from his position on the floor. He's sprawled on his back, his legs and arms spread as if he's about to make a snow angel. He actually looks like one, really. With his curly black hair and pink cheeks, Sherlock looks every bit like a cherub, minus the scowl on his face. "Don't want to," he repeats, and while he's no longer shouting, there's still quite a lot of vehemence behind the words.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice on the matter, Sherlock," Mycroft tells him. "Your bond mate is coming here this afternoon. It's already been decided on."

The other shoe flies. Fortunately, Greg is aware of its approach and ducks behind Mycroft so that the shoe narrowly misses him by a few inches. It's embarrassingly cliché: the poor Omega seeking the protection of his Alpha. But no one else seems to notice.

"It's not too bad, Sherlock," Greg tries, "I'm bonded to My and we're okay."

"That's cause you're stupid." Sherlock sits up and points an accusing finger at him. "I'm not kissing anyone!"

"Sherlock, you're six-years-old. They're only going to bond you temporarily, and when you're old enough, you can decide if you want to have a permanent bond or if you want to break the temporary one. You're not going to kiss anyone for a long time."

"Mummy will want me to," Sherlock argues, "And it's easy to say. Can you see yourself kissing Greg?"

At twelve, Greg has spent enough time with his friends and older cousins to know that kissing will be the least of his worries. He sneaks a glance at Mycroft. He's not bad looking. A little pudgy maybe but that's because of the cakes they keep stealing from the pantry. Greg knows that if he didn't play football, he'd gain weight as well so he doesn't comment on it. He's known Mycroft since he was Sherlock's age. They've spent a lot of time together since their first blood exchange. However, Greg can't picture himself doing…well, anything other than friendly gestures with Mycroft.

Best not to think about that yet, though.

Mycroft is unfazed by it. He merely stares at his brother and says, "Your bond mate will hardly be a stranger to you, Sherlock. An arranged bond has its advantages, especially to an Omega like you."

If Sherlock had more shoes with him there would undoubtedly be another one sailing towards them.

"Besides, his family's friends with us," Mycroft continues, "Father and Mummy will never let you go to some incompetent Alpha. You'll like him."

"I don't like anyone."

Well, that's not entirely true. Greg knows for a fact that Sherlock likes him. He doesn't say it but he's always trailing after Greg when he's visiting. Greg doesn't know if it's because he's an Omega like Sherlock or if it's because Greg can fill in the parts where Mycroft lacks skills in. In short, all the parts that aren't about protecting him.

But right now, yes, Sherlock definitely does not like anyone. He glares at them once more before he grabs his old teddy bear (is it a bear in a bee costume or a hybrid?) and runs out of the room, leaving Greg alone with Mycroft.

"So…" Greg stares at him once more. Best not think about that whole kissing issue. Mycroft's thirteen and he's twelve. It will be three more years before he gets…frisky like they said in health class. Besides, both of their parents have agreed not to have the two of them engage in any...er, activities before they turn eighteen. It isn't a bad thing to have a pre-bond. At least Greg won't have to worry about being jumped while he's walking down the street unlike most Omegas. And at least he already knows the person he's going to spend the rest of his life with. Of course, it's still kind of weird to know that when people smell him, they smell Mycroft as well, albeit faintly. But as the other option is to wander around unprotected, Greg thinks being bonded to Mycroft really is the better choice.

He grins a little. "Er, you want some cake?"

Mycroft shrugs. "Let's go."


They gave him a bath and made him put on clean clothes. They also took Teddy away from him, and when Sherlock tried to steal him back, his nanny placed him on one of the high shelves of the bookcase. It's not a problem that can't be solved. Sherlock knows how to stack things high enough for him to get his Teddy back, though Mummy doesn't like it when he does that. He remembers all too well how he broke his arm last summer after falling out of the big tree in their backyard. Mummy doesn't like it when he climbs things. Sherlock also remembers that Mummy yelled at Mycroft the day he broke his arm because Mycroft was supposed to be looking after him, but instead ran off with Greg.

Sherlock thinks he should break his arm more often even though it did hurt a lot.

It's Mummy who gets him, not Mycroft and Sherlock is glad because he really doesn't want to talk to Mycroft right now. His brother's always so smug. It's an Alpha nature, Sherlock has learned, but it still gets to him that he's not an Alpha like his brother. Instead he gets to be a stupid Omega and people keep treating him like he's made of glass because they think he's so delicate. It's a good thing that Sherlock's not like the usual Omegas. He bites and screams and hurts people he doesn't like. He's a fighter, always has been, so when Mummy leads him to the living room, all he thinks about is that he'll hurt his supposed bond mate as well until he leaves Sherlock alone.

Mycroft and Greg are in the living room with three people Sherlock has never before seen in his life. The woman is obviously the mother of the two children. They all have blond hair and blue eyes and they all look uncomfortable, squished together in the settee. Sherlock tightens his hand around his mother's fingers and doesn't budge.

"Make them go away."

Mummy frowns at him. "Now, Sherlock, we've been talking about this for months now. It's okay if you're shy."

Sherlock is never shy. And to prove it, he wrenches his hand out of his mother's and crosses the living room to take a seat in Father's chair. Father won't mind; he's somewhere abroad again. The blond woman smiles at him while the children frown. The girl is much younger than him, four maybe so she's beneath Sherlock's notice. It must be the boy, then, and Mycroft did say 'he'. But the boy is older, maybe by three years. He stares at Sherlock openly, his dark blue eyes widening as he turns to his mother and says, "He's too young!"

Sherlock immediately hates him.

Greg laughs at that, and to add to Sherlock's annoyance, Mycroft smiles a little. "My eldest and his bond mate," Mummy says in an exasperated voice that quiets Greg.

"Ah." The woman smiles at Greg who blushes and mumbles an apology. Sherlock thinks he likes the woman, even though he doesn't care much for the son.

"This is Harriet?" Mummy is smiling at the girl know who nods and tries to hide her face in her mother's sleeve. "And John, of course. Such a handsome boy."

The boy, John, manages a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He's still looking at Sherlock warily as if Sherlock's a wild animal. Sherlock narrows his eyes at him. Mummy's lying. John isn't handsome. No, John looks weird. His ears stick out too much and he's got a funny mouth and an even funnier nose. His shirt, which has a blue police box on the front, is stupid and there's a hole on the knee of his jeans. He reminds Sherlock of the troll in that book Greg gave to him and he tells them so, to the chagrin of Mummy who looks like she wants to take Teddy away for a whole week again which she did when she found Sherlock experimenting playing with matches.

John looks angry. "I do not look like a troll." He turns to his mother again. "Can we please go now?"

But John doesn't get what he wants and neither does Sherlock. Mummy and John's mother talk outside, taking John's sister with them, leaving Sherlock alone with John. Mycroft and Greg have also left, after getting a look at Sherlock's bond mate. Sherlock can hear Greg laughing in the next room and he wants nothing more than to slide out of Father's seat and hit the two of them with Father's umbrella.

"I don't like you," Sherlock tells John after a while. He's dreadfully bored and he doesn't want to look at John anymore. "You can go away now."

"I don't like you either. Besides, you're only a little kid. You're like Harry."

"And you remind me of Mycroft. Also, I don't want to kiss a troll." John turns a funny colour but doesn't say anything. Sherlock looks at him then decides to annoy John even more to see how red his face will become. By the time the grown ups arrive, John looks just like an apple. It makes Sherlock grin.

Mummy claps her hands and beams at him. It's the smile she makes when she does something Sherlock doesn't agree with like taking Teddy and telling the maid to wash him, or when she buys Sherlock another awful suit. "Well, that's settled then. We'll have you two bonded next month."

Sherlock immediately stops smiling.