A/N: I am starting this portion of my narrative on 25/7/11, the one-year anniversary of the broadcast of "A Study in Pink". (At least, that's what the internet tells me!) So, it seemed appropriate to mark it by working on my next installment. As always, told from John's POV.

This begins immediately following "A Night at the Symphony."

Warnings: Slash, but nothing explicit. Somewhat fluffy.

Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made by me. Labor of love only.

Beta: The wonderful Jarri Scythe!

Sunday with Mycroft

I awoke Sunday morning with a feeling of dread in my gut. It took me a few seconds to remember what it was I was dreading. Then I rolled over, saw Sherlock sleeping, and remembered.

I quickly exited the bed as carefully as I could so as not to disturb him. I gathered my things and headed to the bathroom. I planned on taking a long, leisurely shower to think things through and hopefully steady my nerves.

It worked, to a certain extent. Physically, it was both relaxing and invigorating, but my emotions emerged from the shower as tangled as they went in. I wasn't sure if I was suffering temporary insanity, or realizing something that had been beneath the surface all along. I also hadn't a clue as to what to do about my current situation. Ideas ranged from moving out to trying to tell Sherlock about my new found feelings. Part of me was afraid that the latter might end up with the former.

I finally decided that I simply needed more time to sort out what I really wanted. I still couldn't make sense of what seemed to be conflicting urges.

After Sherlock was up and about I brought up the subject of going to Mycroft's to meet Margaret and Taliesin.

"Do you think we should bring anything?" I asked.

"Mycroft said no."

"Yeah, but you only meet your nephew once. It might help break the ice with him," I suggested.

"Did it occur to you to mention this before? "

"Sorry, I just happened to think of it now."

Sherlock cast his eyes around the flat and then started picking up what seemed to be random things for my approval.

After vetoing the skull, the can of spray paint from the "Blind Banker" case, a scimitar (where did he get that? I wondered), and a few other highly inappropriate items for a five year old, Sherlock's eyes lit up.

"I know just the thing," he said and began searching his bookcase.

He pulled out a good-sized book, dusted it off and handed it to me with a triumphant smile.

"I got this from Mummy and Father when I was about Taliesin's age."

I took the book titled "A Handbook of General Scientific Knowledge." It didn't appear to be particularly aimed toward children, but did seem to be a fairly easy introduction to all of the major branches of science.

Sherlock seemed quite proud of his brainwave.

"Mycroft told us he can read, and indicated that most of his education has been in languages and literature, so I can introduce him to science!"

I nodded, "Good, I think it's a good choice, Sherlock. Kids are smart, and he'll know that you're not patronizing him, especially when you tell him you owned it as a child."

"What about you then?"

"Me?"

"What are you going to give him?"

"You think I should give him something?"

"You're meeting him as well."

"But...I'm not his uncle."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Obviously, but he's likely to see you just as much as me, isn't he?"

"I...I don't know...maybe, I guess."

"Well, you'd better hurry, if you have to go to the shops you don't have much time."

I ran upstairs to my old room and began pulling my meager possessions out.

What on earth did I own that I could possibly give to the newest scion of the Holmes family?

What does one give a tiny prodigy?

Then, when I saw it at the bottom of one of my boxes, I knew what I was going to give him.

I came downstairs, feeling pleased with myself and Sherlock immediately locked his eyes on the narrow case I carried.

"What is that?" he asked.

"It's my old recorder. The first instrument I ever played. I got it when I wasn't much older than Taliesin."

"Your first instrument?"

"A few years later, after I became a bit more proficient, I switched to clarinet."

Sherlock looked positively dumbfounded, "You never told me you played."

"Oh, I haven't for years, I'm sure I'm horribly rusty. I certainly wouldn't dare play in front of you."

I took out the recorder and started looking it over, "I want to make sure it's clean before I give it to him. I figured it makes a good first instrument. There's no reeds to fuss with, and it's very easy to finger."

I played a few scales, just to reassure myself that it still worked and sounded pleasant, and that I remembered the fingering, as I would need to show Taliesin.

I then ran through a few childhood melodies like "Twinkle Twinkle" and "Frere Jacques" also to reassure myself that I could still play them in order to teach Taliesin to play something.

When I was done I looked up to see Sherlock looking at me angrily.

"What?" I asked.

"I can't believe you never told me you played."

"It never came up."

"But, you know that I play!"

"Yes, and you're worlds better than me, so what does it matter?"

"But how do I know that when I didn't even know you played?"

"So what?"

"So...I just...I can't believe I didn't know that about you."

I smiled at Sherlock, "You're really upset about this!"

Sherlock immediately became remote, "I am not upset, just surprised. I would have thought that...knowing that I do play, that maybe you would start again. Maybe we could play together."

I laughed, "Not likely, I told you, I haven't played for years."

"But you still have your clarinet."

I nodded, "Yes, I do."

"Why keep it if you never intend to play it again."

I began to feel nervous.

"Sherlock, I'm not going to play in front of you, at least, not any time soon. If my ability is a candle, yours is...a bonfire."

Sherlock is susceptible to flattery, and smiled slightly at this.

"Well, why don't you let me be the judge of that?" he asked.

"No," I said firmly.

He sighed, "Fine. Are you ready? Because we really ought to be going soon."

So, with our gifts in hand, we left to go meet Mycroft's son.

TBC

A/N: Apologies for this very short chapter, but I wanted to get something up after being away for more than a week.