Chapter One: A Christmas Surprise
It was around 3 in the morning when Sherlock entered his brother's bedroom. Much too early for any child to be up, but today was different, today was Christmas, and Sherlock was determined to get his brother awake. "Mycroft, Mycroft are you awake? Mycroft". Sherlock leaned over his brother's face, inches away from his ear. "Mycroft, you have to get up! It's Christmas. We have to open presents!" He lifted up Mycroft's eyelid.
"Mmh, Sherlock go back to sleep." His older brother turned around and put the covers over his head. He wasn't in the mood to put up with his brother's childish antics. He was never much into Christmas, well he was never much into cheery things in general.
"Mycroft! You do this every year. Why can't we open presents early like the other kids?"
"Because the other children are fools and simpletons who would rather spend Christmas opening boxes with expensive items that they begged their parents for all year long, rather than doing something productive. And need I remind you that they believe in a fat man who rides around on a 'magical sleigh' and goes to every house in the world in less than 24 hours?" He added, sarcastically.
"You're no fun." Sherlock pouted as he jumped into bed next to his brother.
"You're no picnic yourself," He said, "But listen, just let me sleep for a while longer okay. Just a few hours, then we can open presents. You're going to enjoy your presents more if you're awake." Mycroft covered his brother with the blankets on his bed.
"Ok, even though I'm not at all sleepy," Sherlock said in between a yawn he failed to cover up. He scooted closer to his brother and curled up with his teddy bear. Normally Mycroft would have ridiculed Sherlock for being dependent on an inanimate object for sleep, but today was different, today was Christmas.
The sunlight began to warm Sherlock's face as he turned around in the bed. It took a few minutes for him to realize that it was morning, Christmas morning. He opened his eyes and flipped over, seeing Mycroft fast asleep, and drooling on the pillow. Resisting the urge to burst out laughing he shook his brother awake. "Mycroft! Mycroft get up! It's Christmas, it's Christmas!" He got up from the bed and ripped off the covers. "Come on! You promised."
"Alright, alright…give me a second…" Mycroft replied, wiping the sleep away from his eyes. Sherlock grabbed his hand and began to race downstairs.
"Mummy! Daddy! Wake up its Christmas!" Mycroft smiled as his brother dragged him to the tree. No matter what, Sherlock's smile always brightened up his day. His little brother jumped up and down as Mr. and Mrs. Holmes came out in their robes.
"Calm down son, you're going to break something." Mrs. Holmes laughed. Sitting down next to Sherlock. "Would you like to go first?" She asked.
"Umm, it's okay Mycroft can go first." Sherlock said, getting one of the presents from under the tree and handing it Mycroft. Surprised by his brother's generosity, he took the colorfully wrapped box.
"To 'Mike', from 'Santa'. Must you call me Mike, mother, and Santa, really?" Mummy Holmes rolled her eyes and smiled at her son. He was an intellectual, no doubt about that, but sometimes she wished he would act more like a child, something most parents did not. He took the box and neatly ripped the paper, exposing the brown taped box underneath. Upon opening the container, he pulled out a red and green sweater. "Oh…thank you…it's not like I have enough clothes…ehem, its lovely mummy, thank you." He put the sweater back in the box.
"Okay my turn!" Sherlock looked through the presents, trying to decide which one to pick first. "Ah!" He chose a box wrapped in snowflake wrapping paper and began to rip it apart.
"Oh Sherlock do try to be a little more neat." Mycroft added, before being told to shush.
"Mummy I love it!" He said, as he perused his gift. It was an amateur detective kit, complete with magnifying glass, microscope, journal, and various other tools. Ever since an early age, Sherlock had taken to acting like his brother, obsessed with reasoning and deductions. Mrs. Holmes felt that this was a nice creative outlet, and encouraged it every step of the way.
"Glad you like it sweetie." Sherlock beamed as smiled at his parents.
"Here daddy! You can open this one! It's from me and Mycroft."
It was around 11 o'clock in the morning by the time everyone had opened their presents. Sherlock of course was the most excited and could not wait to play with his new things, including a chemistry set, a journal, and wooden sword and pirate hat. He had recently become fascinated with pirates after reading Treasure Island, and announced that he was going to be a pirate when he grew up. Mycroft of course scoffed at the idea, but his parents encouraged it greatly, buying him many books about the subject. As the family cleaned up the last of the wrapping paper, Sherlock gathered his presents. "Thank you Mummy and Daddy! I love the presents!" But before he could go up to his room, his father stopped him.
"Wait a minute son, we have one more gift, and this one is for both you and Mycroft." He said. Sherlock looked back at the tree, which was empty underneath.
"But there are no more presents under the tree." He observed.
"Well, this one couldn't really go under the tree." Mr. Holmes commented, as he began to walk to the door leading to the garage. Sherlock had absolutely no idea what it could have been, but Mycroft did, and refused to spoil the surprise. Mr. Holmes opened the door, and out came a small puppy, and Irish setter to be exact, which came straight to Sherlock and began to lick him.
"We know how you two have been wanting a dog, and we thought that it would help you two bond." Mrs. Holmes said, rustling Sherlock's hair. "But you two must work together to take care of this dog, that means feeding him, walking him, and cleaning up after him."
Sherlock made a face at that last bit, but it quickly went away as he scratched the new puppy behind the ear. "We will, won't we Mycroft!"
"I suppose, he is rather cute." Mycroft added as he came up to the dog. "What's his name?"
Mr. and Mrs. Holmes smiled. "We thought that you boys could pick the name." She said.
Sherlock looked away for a minute with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Ooo! Ooo! Can we name him Redbeard?" Sherlock asked, smiling, his missing tooth exposed.
"Redbeard? What kind of name is that?" Mycroft asked, while Mrs. Holmes gave her son a disapproving look.
"It's like a pirate name! Plus he has some red in his fur see? And his fur on his face kinda looks like a beard" Sherlock added, pointing to the dog. "Pleeeeeaaaasssseeee Mycroft! Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease?"
"Whatever you want." Mycroft said, it wasn't something worth arguing over.
"Yay!" Sherlock grabbed the puppy and hugged it. "Hello Redbeard, I'm Sherlock, and I'm gonna be your best friend and you're going to be mine!
It was Sherlock's best Christmas ever.