"Sherlock! Come here, I want you to meet the Watsons," Mummy called.

A small, pale boy in a smart black suit, complete with little bowtie, came running along.

"Don't run!" Mummy said in a sing-song voice for the fifth time that night.

"Sorry, Mummy," he muttered, lowering his curly head guiltily.

Mrs. Holmes introduced her six year old son to the couple she had just welcomed.

"This is Harriet," she said gently, waving at the four year old blond girl, who was shy and had buried her face in her mother's long skirt. "And this is John. He must be about your age, Sherlock." The remark was actually a question to Mrs. Watson.

"He's seven," the latter answered. Her voice sounded pleasant and she had a nice smile.

The adults walked through to where Mrs. Holmes' birthday party was going on, leaving the two boys behind.

"Hello," John said.

Sherlock was just observing him. "This party is boring," he said eventually.

"Oh. I thought it didn't look so bad," the blond boy said cautiously.

Sherlock wrinkled his nose. "I shouldn't even be here. I should be at sea, I'm a pirate," he sulked.

"Are you? That's amazing!"

The smaller boy looked surprised up at John. "Do you think so? The children at school always say I'm being ridiculous."

"No, of course not! When I grow up, I want to be a captain," John said.

Sherlock was staring at him with big blue eyes, silent again.

"Do you want to play?" John asked.

The black-haired boy frowned. "Why are you standing on one leg?"

"I'm the Steadfast Tin Soldier!" John said.

"That's my favourite fairytale." The blond boy kept surprising Sherlock. That wasn't usual. The children at school would always play the same dull games, like tag or hide-and-seek. Sherlock always thought that if they wouldn't hide, no-one would have to take the trouble of looking for them.

Or playing mother and father, for God's sake. They were just creating problems. While there already were so many riddles to solve! Like where in the garden Captain Blackbeard would have hidden his treasure this time. "Alright, we can play," Sherlock said, still sounding a bit doubtful.

"Are you enjoying yourselves?" a voice suddenly said. The boys turned around and saw a tall, black-haired boy.

"Yes," Sherlock answered short, crossing his arms. He wasn't sure yet if it was true, but otherwise his brother would tell Mummy and it would upset her if he was bored again on her great day.

"Will you play with us? You could be the evil giant from 'Jack and the Beanstalk'!" John said enthusiastically.

Mycroft laughed. "No, I think I will join the others again," the thirteen-year-old answered pompously, before walking away.

"That was my brother, Mycroft," Sherlock said in a sulky voice, but his eyes betrayed that he was disappointed because he hadn't come to play with them.

"Mycroft? That's a funny name," John said.

For the first time, Sherlock sent him a wide smile. "Yes, it is."

"Come on, let's go treasure-hunting!" John said, and they ran into the corridor.

The party went on for hours, but for once on his mother's parties, Sherlock wasn't bored. Only taking breaks for the many courses of their dinner, the two boys did not only find a formidable treasure, they also slaughtered the seven-headed dragon that was guarding it, had a fight at sea and found a desolated island.

In the early hours, Mr. and Mrs. Watson went to look for their son and found him pressed in a soft armchair, next to Sherlock, his head dropped against the mess of black curls. Exhausted by their adventures, none of the boys woke up when Mr. Watson picked John up to take him home.

"Mummy, can John come to play again?"

Mummy smiled. "Have you made a friend?"

"I think." Sherlock had no idea why he blushed. "Please?"

"I'll call Mrs. Watson to ask if he can come over," Mummy smiled.