Thirteen year old Mycroft sat at the table enjoying the last piece of velvet cake with butter cream icing. There was a shuffling behind him and he turned to see a pale curly haired boy pushing a chair up next to him. Sherlock climbed onto the chair with a little help from Mycroft, not that he would admit to it later. He sat down and swung his legs back and forth childishly, grinning.
"Mummy told me something today." Mycroft thought he saw his smile grow wider. "She said sharing is caring Mycroft and that big brothers should share everything with little brothers. Especially little brothers who know all your secrets." The devious six year old glanced at the cake in front of Mycroft.
"Fine." Mycroft pushed the cake over to his brother and crossed his arms. It was devoured in an instant and all that was left was a single cherry with a fork stabbed into it on the plate. He frowned and stood up.
Sherlock jumped on him and smeared his icing covered fingers all over Mycroft's shirt. The brat then jumped down from the chair he stood on and ran away smiling. Mycroft frowned surveying his ruined dress shirt and tie with contempt. Sharing is caring and caring is not an advantage Mycroft thought passionately.