Harry Watson's fake smile dropped as soon as her parents left the house. She around turned to face her five year old brother, who was grinning up at his teenage sister mischievously.
"Alright, Johnny, what do ya want to do?" She asked.
"Playground," John replied, using the puppy eyes Harry herself had taught him.
"Those won't work on me, and no way we're going to the playground. Remember what happened last time?"
John tried not to laugh as he remembered how he had gotten stuck on the monkey-bars the last time Harry babysat and took him to the playground. He was fine through the whole thing, but Harry had freaked out.
Harry heard a giggle escape him, and she lifted him up into the air, and tickled him. She smiled at her little brother before going back on subject.
"Well, we need something to do. I don't think any good movies are at the theater, and I don't want to stick around here all day."
She thought for a moment, and then noticed John mimicking her thinking pose with a finger on his chin. She set him back on his feet, and then snapped her fingers as she thought of something.
"What about a walk in the park? And maybe some ice cream after?"
John nodded up and down rapidly, and Harry grabbed her keys, and they set out.
No one knew that a very similar scene was happening in a different part of the city.
Mycroft Holmes led his six year old brother Sherlock down the busy sidewalk.
"So, anything new going on lately?" he asked. Sherlock just shook his head.
Ever since moving out of his parents house and getting a job, Mycroft hadn't seen his brother as often as he would have liked have. He did, however, try to spend time with Sherlock at least once a week, and give him some attention that their workaholic parents failed to provide. Mycroft always liked the days he spent with him, even if they were slightly awkward.
"What do you want to do today?" he said, hoping for a response this time. Sherlock shrugged. After Mycroft had left, he didn't speak as often as he used to.
"What about the park?" Sherlock looked up at him.
"Playground?" he asked.
"Not today, remember last time? That kid convinced you to jump off the top of the slide and you broke your arm, and I do not want a repeat performance of that," Mycroft said sternly.
"The park is fine," Sherlock pouted.
Harry held John's hand as they walked through the park, and he behaved himself pretty well, and she managed to keep him out of trouble, unlike the last few times they went out. Everything was going along smoothly, at least until the moment she pulled her phone out of her pocket.
She looked down at it to see the time, and Harry suddenly ran into someone.
"Watch where you're going!" she said as she stumbled back and looked at the person who bumped into him. She didn't even notice her hand released John's.
The stranger was in his early twenties, obviously from a high class family, and he looked down at his coat with disgust as he brushed away invisible dirt.
Mycroft looked up from his coat to see who ran into him, and he saw a girl, probably a few years younger than him, with short blonde hair, wearing casual clothes.
"You were the one who ran into me. You should be paying more attention," he replied, irritated.
"Look, I don't know who you think you are, but-" He interrupted her.
"Mycroft Holmes," he said, hoping she realized just who he, or rather who his parents were, and the power they had in the city.
"Harry Watson. Stay out of my way," she replied, unfazed by his name.
The two glared at each other for a moment, before Harry pushing her way past Mycroft.
"C'mon John, let's go."
Harry reached out for her brother, but then noticed that he was nowhere in sight. She spun around, looking over the park, trying to find him.
"John!" she called, hoping he might come back. He didn't
"John?" Mycroft asked.
"My little brother, he's gone," Harry replied distractedly.
"Good luck finding him. Let's go, Sherlock."
Mycroft then noticed his brother was also gone. Like John, he wasn't anywhere that he could see, and Mycroft grew just as worried as Harry was. He called out Sherlock's name a few times, before accepting that he was not coming back, and he would have to search Sherlock out. The park was pretty large, he might of just gotten lost.
"I have no idea how I'm going to explain this to my parents."
"My feelings exactly," Harry said, before suddenly thinking of something.
"How old's whats-his-name,"
"Sherlock?"
"Yeah. John, he takes every opportunity to play with kids his own age. How old is he?"
"Around six, I think."
"Then they're probably somewhere together."
They said nothing more, and immediately started searching together, occasionally calling out the younger siblings names. The searched the park up and down, any place that John and Sherlock might be was not overlooked. Harry and Mycroft stuck together, looking in the same areas.
Around an hour into their search, Harry walked down one of the paths meant for joggers, and she found them. A pale, tall young kid, which she assumed was Sherlock, was sitting on a park bench, moving his hands around as he explained something to John, who was sitting next to him, completely interested in what Sherlock was saying.
"Holmes, I found them!" she called out to Mycroft. Mycroft closed the short distance between them and they both half-ran in the direction of the kids.
"And that," Sherlock was finishing, "is why monsters prefer to live in closets and not under beds."
"Wow! I am never going by my closet ever again," John said, right before being tackled into a hug by Harry.
"John, are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
John pushed himself out of the hug and smiled at his sister.
"Why did you wander off like that?"
"While you were arguing with Mycroft, he wanted me to tell him about stuff. So I did," Sherlock filled in.
"Sherlock Holmes, you are in big trouble," Mycroft said. Sherlock glared at him.
"Why?"
"You ran off. You could have been kidnapped, or gotten hurt or-"
"I'm fine," Sherlock snapped back.
Harry noticed the tension between the brothers. She stood from her knelt position and took John's hand in hers.
"Well, we're going to go now. Thanks for the help, Holmes."
She held out her hand, and Mycroft shook it.
"Thanks, Watson."
"Maybe I'll see you around sometime."
She smiled, and John said good-bye to Sherlock, and they walked off.
"One thing, Johnny, we are not telling Mom and Dad about this."