Disclaimer: I own nothing that is someone else's.

A/N: Well, I'm into 'Sherlock' again. Knew it'd happen eventually. It's like you forget about it until you see it again and remember how great it is and then your throwing up rainbows all over it from your eyeballs. Anyone else relate?

Sherlock was lying on the couch, fingers pressed to his temples in deep concentration, looking to be in his mind palace, whilst John was reading the newspaper and having his moldy coffee.

Suddenly he spilled his coffee, "Oh! Ow!" He yelled as it got all over his pants and shirt. Sherlock glanced over and scoffed at John's interruption before getting up and leaving the room, "John!" he yelled and John trailed after him like a rubber duck follows you in a bathtub.

"There's a case…" Sherlock said, getting down on his knees as he began to sniff the brick wall of the outside of their flat. "I can smell it." He said, making a face one might make if they just got pissed on by their best friend. "Can you smell that?" Sherlock asked, not bothering to look up.

"Uh…" John took a moment to smell the area, "No." he said, simply.

"Sulfur…" Sherlock muttered, "There are demons afoot!" He yelled and then he ran off, leaving John to wonder what in the world the great mouse detective was on about.

"Hello, Mr. John Watson." He heard that familiar voice and he jumped before turning around to see Mycroft standing there with a smug look on his face. "I don't suppose my brother is at home, is he?" He asked, glancing about the place like he were in a pigsty, smug face still intact.

"No." John said, "He ran off just now."

"I see…"

"What do you want?" John asked, annoyed by Mycroft's lingering presents.

"I need to talk to my brother, important business." Mycroft almost sounded bitter as he said it.

"He already has a case."

"This isn't about a 'case'" Mycroft said annoyed. "I need to have a word with him."

"JAWN!" They heard Sherlock yell as he ran towards them, he stopped dead in his tracts as soon as he got there and saw Mycroft's ugly-ass face.

"What do you want?" Sherlock asked, giving Mycroft the death glare.

"Do you remember what day it was yesterday?" Mycroft asked, ignoring Sherlock's being irritated by him.

"Monday. Why? Did anything of significance happen?" he asked.

Mycroft scoffed, glaring at Sherlock, then began a long, awkward, staring contest.

"Sooo… uh." John didn't know what to do other than stand there. Mycroft and Sherlock's eyes were both beginning to water but neither of the two idiots were going to back down.

"You know, it's not a good idea to strain your eyes like this." John said.

"Shut up, John." Sherlock said.

"Yesterday was very significant." Mycroft said.

"Yesterday… All my troubles seemed so far away…" John began to mumble the Beatles song, bored out of his mind. "Can we please, for once, act like adults?" he asked, finally.

Sherlock glared at Mycroft one last time before turning away and dramatically looked into the distance at the setting sun.

"OH!" Sherlock exclaimed, turning to Mycroft suddenly, "Yesterday was free donut day at McPastry King Juniors!"

Mycroft sighed in exasperation "No." he said.

John half laughed, nervously.

Sherlock then went into observing mode eyes darting from one thing to another, before they landed on Mycroft's hair. "You got a haircut!" he said.

"Yes, but that is not why yesterday is significant."

Sherlock squinted his eyes at Mycroft, like he was Clint Eastwood or something, before grabbing something off Mycroft's shoulder. A strand of pink confetti. "Yesterday was Mother's birthday."

Mycroft sighed, "For such a bloody "genius" you can be the biggest idiot ever. It was my birthday." He said, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, I deleted that one years ago." Sherlock said, flippantly.

"You didn't come to my party!" Sherlock's older bro almost yelled in furious anger.

"Well, my last birthday you didn't come to my party, hypocreet." Sherlock retorted, pronouncing hypocrite wrong.

"Why are you so mean?" Mycroft asked.

"Why are you so mean?" Sherlock echoed in an annoying, prissy, little girl voice.

Then John just couldn't help himself, he burst out laughing, falling to the ground, he was so out of breath. They both glared at him angrily, "Sorry— I just—" and he looked into Mycroft's eyes and burst out laughing again and Sherlock began giggling too.

"You two are meanies!" Mycroft yelled, before running into his pink minivan and driving away, the car flew up into the air as it sparkled like a fairy and left, never to be seen again.

The End

A bit OOC, especially at the end, but oh well. That's how most of my comedies end up. Thanks for reading, everywahn!