"It's dead."

Mycroft frowned and tried the phone himself. The line was indeed dead. Cursing internally, he pulled out his mobile and scowled when a NO SIGNAL notification popped up. "Must have been the storm," he mused. "Well, there's nothing for it. Let's grab your bags and get you set up in the guest rooms."

The Watsons started to protest, but the eldest Holmes cut them off. "I insist. My parents would have it no other way."

Seeing no other option, they agreed, although their daughter looked a bit upset. She glared at him.

They were in the process of carrying the bags into the house when Greg joined him. He promptly took the suitcase Mycroft was holding and brought it in.

Once they had the bags situated in the guest rooms, Greg and Mycroft took a second to themselves and sat on the stairs. Once again, Mycroft found himself staring at his boyfriend. His thick black hair, brown eyes, still slightly tanned skin. Wearing those tight black jeans and graphic T-shirt and black leather jacket. Once again, Mycroft was amazed that Greg had agreed to be his boyfriend.

"What?" Greg asked. Mycroft blushed a little and looked away.

"Nothing," he murmured. Gregory laughed.

"You were checking me out again, weren't you?"

Mycroft was going to blatantly deny that, but the girl interrupted them before he had a chance. Her face suddenly appeared between the two of theirs. "Where's my brother? Mum wants John to come to bed."

Mycroft jumped up a little guiltily. "I'll go find him then," he said. Greg just grinned knowingly.

Before he left, the older boy noticed how the girl was looking at Greg. A little crush, he thought, amused.

"I'm Harriet. Harry for short. What's your name?"

"Sherlock? Sher, let me in."

For the tenth time, Mycroft knocked at his brother's door. Well, one of his doors. This room was dedicated entirely to his life as a 'pirate', decked out like an actual ship, while the other was for his everyday life.

Again, there was no answer, but Mycroft could hear shushing and giggling inside. Knowing it was a bad idea, he turned the knob.

And was knocked over when a board slapped him in the face.

"Sherlock!" he snarled, checking for blood. Thankfully, his nose had been spared. "You can't booby-trap your door!"

Sherlock appeared in the hall, pointing a wooden sword at his fallen brother. "See? I have slain the evil beast!" he called behind him. John joined him, dressed in a blue pirate coat and brown tricorn hat. He looked at the elder Holmes skeptically.

"He doesn't look evil."

Sherlock smiled and readjusted his new eyepatch. "That's right. They don't look evil, you know. And that's what makes them dangerous."

John nodded and looked to Sherlock for direction.

"What do you want, evil beast?" Sherlock demanded.

"Don't call me that," Mycroft growled, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Would you rather I call you a whale?"

Mycroft lunged at his little brother, but found another sword pointed at him. John had stepped into the line of fire and was defending his 'captain'. Sighing in defeat, Mycroft settled into a cross-legged sitting position and glared at his brother. "Fine, but Sherlock, John has to join his family."

"No."

Usually, Mycroft would yell at his brother for being selfish and daft, but they had a guest. "Sher, he has to."

"No. John's staying with me."

"Sherlock-"

"Whoa, guys. Can I ask why you have my b- my friend at swordpoint?"

Greg stood above them with a raised eyebrow.

Sherlock looked up defiantly. "The whale is trying to kidnap my queen."

Gregory stifled a laugh. He couldn't decide which part of that statement he found funnier. "Trying to kidnap him?"

"Yes," Sherlock repeated slowly, as if speaking to a small child.

"You want John to stay with you tonight?"

"Yes," Sherlock repeated.

Nodding, Greg pulled his boyfriend to his feet and said, "We'll see what we can do."

AN: Sorry for veering away from the story line-I've been on a Mystrade kick lately. :) Well, 'tis the season for loving. Happy holidays, everyone!