This is the story about Mycroft and Stella (my OC). Not sure how often I'll be able to update, but I'll try to keep it to at least once every two weeks and not just disappear. Enjoy!
Mycroft Holmes was not an ordinary boy. Ordinary ten year olds read comic books, ran around outside, and biked with their friends. Ordinary boys didn't have to keep their younger brother from blowing up room sin the name of science. And ordinary boys certainly didn't sit under apple trees reading Machiavelli. But there he was, reading The Prince. Or at least he was, until a faint giggling reached his ears.
"Sherlock, come down from that tree right now!" he yelled and pointed to the ground angrily. More giggling, and now some rustling, but no wild-haired youth dropped down. "If you don't come down, I'm going to tell Mommy and she'll get the gardener to get you down again!" At this, a head poked out from between some branches and then the body follow, hanging upside down from a thick limb.
"Hello there. I'm afraid I'm not Sherlock. My name's Stella. What's yours?" Stella grinned down at Mycroft, who was blatantly staring silently. "Hello? Oh, are you deaf?" She began doing strange gestures with her hands, but stopped upon seeing his look of bewilderment. "Oh, not deaf then."
"Of course I'm not deaf. I was yelling earlier, and I heard your giggling. What are you doing on my property?" Mycroft puffed out his chest and tried to look commanding, like his father. Stella merely giggled again.
"I was just climbing. You wanna come up? Its a really nice view up here." She let out a laugh and swung back and forth, still upside down.
"Stop it, you'll get hurt! And no, I don't want to climb a stupid tree. Now get off my property or I'll call security and they'll drag you out of there!" Mycroft stomped his foot and left in an agitated huff. Stella's smile drooped and she climbed back away with a sigh. Why doesn't anyone ever want to play? And he never even gave me his name...
Mycroft snuck carefully back into the house, avoiding the annoying housekeeper. As he rounded the final corner before his bedroom he thought, Last time I ever do what she says. I can't read outside. Apparently, tree-climbing ape girls invade if I try. He tried to forget her carefree grin and sparking green eyes, focusing only on her tangle of jet-black hair and the dirt on her button-like nose. She's practically a savage. Mycroft ignored the sad little part of his mind that reminded him that she, at least, was having fun.
Please read and review. :)