The Meeting

They met by chance one day.

Mycroft had been annoying Sherlock to no end. He needed to escape Mycroft's ramblings about how Sherlock would be held to a higher standard when he started school because they were related. He found himself walking along the hedges that lined the back edge of the Holmes property. He was brooding, not really paying much attention where he was walking, and suddenly someone shot out from between the bushes and slammed right into him.

"Wha-?" Sherlock began. Then there was a hand covering his mouth.

"sshh! They'll hear you, idiot!" A voice wispered harshly in his ear. Idiot? Sherlock Holmes was not an idiot. He humphed in indignation, which earned him another harsh "sshh!" After a minute or so the hand disappeared and the other arm that was holding him down let go.

Sherlock stood up and dusted himself off; then, he turned to face the voice that had assaulted him in his own yard. He was male, and around the same age as him, and almost alarmingly skinny, more so than Sherlock who was pretty thin himself, he was also wearing torn hand-me-down clothes that were double the size he needed so poor family also hinting at a possible troubled family life, running from adversaries that were no doubt triple his size and strength most likely because he said something to anger said adversaries. All in all the boy was an outcast, like him.

The boy was grinning up at him, and the look in his eyes said that he knew exactly what Sherlock was doing. "Well you've had a chance to look so tell me what you've found?" There was an edge to his voice, like he was challenging Sherlock to be smarter than he was.

Challenge accepted. This boy didn't know what he was getting himself into.

"Obviously your new to town, I can recognize everyone's faces in this town and name most of them on sight." Sherlock began

"Impressive" the boy sounded bored and unimpressed by Sherlock's memory skill. Sherlock glared at him, and he simply raised an eyebrow "Is that all?" He sounded disappointed.

"Your malnourished and wearing hand-me-down clothes that are too large for you, so obviously you come from a poor family. Usually at this time of day people tend to be inside watching the telly, and yet here you are out and about angering the neighborhood kids so I'm guessing you don't like spending time with your family. Now, you were being chased and knew exactly how to escape your pursuers, your cocky and arrogant and it often gets you in trouble; so much so, in fact that you always know how to get yourself out of nearly everything you get yourself into." Sherlock smiled smugly, that would show him not to doubt his intelligence.

To his credit, the boy only looked impressed for a second before he hid his reaction behind an indifferent mask, very impressive for someone his age.

"Very good, Sherlock Holmes." The boy flashed a cocky grin, but lost it when he realised that Sherlock failed to react to his statement. Sherlock was actually surprised that this stranger knew his name, not a lot of people actually knew him. But, he was a Holmes, and learned when he was still at a young age that to show emotion was to show weakness.

"You obviously did your homework, now, its usually customary to share your own name when meeting a stranger." Sherlock let his own cocky smirk show through.

The boy, who had been scowling at Sherlock, suddenly broke into a huge grin and jumped up from his sitting position on the ground. "Jim Moriarty, hi." He said in a long dramatic drawl, holding out his hand.

Sherlock just looked at it until Jim shrugged and lowered his hand again, he still wasn't sure whether he cared for the boy or not. Although he was certainly interesting. Obviously, Jim was more intelligent than he originally thought. But, if he wanted to consider Jim as a possible acquaintance he would have to survive the first meeting of his parents and Mycroft.

"Sherlock!" Speak of the devil Sherlock thought as Mycroft came walking up. He eyed Jim up and down before dismissing him and turning to Sherlock again.

'Great' Sherlock thought, he's probably going to get a lecture about not associating with people like Jim when he starts school.

"Mummy wants you back at the house, Sherlock. To go over your lessons before dinner." He said with a scowl.

"And?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow. Mummy wouldn't have sent Mycroft for just his lessons and dinner.

Mycroft huffed and glared at him. "And she thinks I might have...over stepped my boundaries a little bit."

"Your apology is being considered and I'll give a verdict after dinner."

"That was not an apology!" If glares could kill, Sherlock would be dead by now. Sherlock was still angry with Mycroft, and he knew embarrassing him in front of a stranger would hit just the nerve he was looking for to get him to leave Sherlock alone for a few days.

"Oh? So why did mummy send you to fetch me instead of one of the servants, like she usually does?" Mycrof huffed in defeat and walked away.

"Well, he's a prat isn't he?" Jim snickered as Mycroft walked away. Sherlock didn't respond. Mycroft was a prat, but he was also family, and Sherlock hardly knew this boy who had ambushed him through the bushes only fifteen minutes ago. Jim was obviously trying to get on Sherlock's good side, because as soon as he noticed Sherlock's reluctance to comment, he quickly changed the subject. "So what lessons are these? Are you home schooling or something?"

"No, I've convinced my parents to send me to a public school, but in return I must learn to play the violin for mummy." He replied

"Oh? Any good?"

"'Exceptionally well for someone my age' according to the instructor. But he was teaching me rather slowly, so mummy fired him and is now teaching me herself." Sherlock answered. Jim snickered at the last comment.

"Does she play?" He asked curiously

"She did, and quite well I hear, although I've never heard her play. She never plays anymore. I need to be going though if she sent someone to fetch me then mummy is probably getting impatient right now." Sherlock could tell that Jim was disappointed that he was ending their conversation, the boy was good at hiding his emotions, but only when he was concentrating on not showing them. Still Sherlock was intrigued by this boy, who seemed to be close to his own intelligence level, so he added "If your curious then you might as well come watch me play, mummy won't mind, and join us for dinner tonight."

"Oh?" Jim's face lit up with shock, and a hint of joy, before he remembered to keep the emotion hidden. Sherlock just nodded and turned to walk back to the two boys walked in silence, each preferring the comfort of their own thoughts, Mycroft was waiting by the back door to the house when they walked up.

When he noticed that Jim was still following Sherlock, he gave him another look up and down. "And who would this be?"

Before Sherlock could reply, Jim ran forward, grabbed Mycroft's hand, and began to shake it vigorously saying "I'm Richard Brook. Hi, nice to meet you!" Mycroft wrenched his hand free, a look of surprise and disgust covering his face, and stormed in to the house.

"What was that?" Sherlock had been taken by surprise too, but luckily Mycroft had been to preoccupied to notice his composure fall apart. Thankfully he was able to mask his features behind a slightly amused but curious face before Jim, or Richard, turned around grinning at him.

"Like I said earlier, he's a prat, and I don't like him very much. I'm curious to see how long I can keep him under the pretense that my name is Rich Brook."

"so you're doing an experiment on my brother?" Sherlock raised a bemused eyebrow, staring at Jim.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." Jim said defensively not sure how to interpret Sherlock's expression and tone of voice. Sherlock flashed a small grin and walked into the house.

Jim stood still for a second then grinned as well and followed Sherlock into the house.