Jasper had gone to university a lot earlier than he should have. Sherlock was ecstatic. John was worried. Worried that his son would be bullied for his intelligence.

Jasper, however, had never been so happy. He'd begun to get bored of school when he was 13, and had been begging for university or college or something.

He went to sixth form when he was 15 and had soon surpassed all of his expectations, his IQ bordering dangerously close to genius. John had never seen Sherlock so proud, or so happy.

He took all his exams, and passed music, chemistry, biology, maths and politics with 100%. He'd been persuaded to take politics by Mycroft, and the two sciences and maths were pressed upon him since his birth, and he chose them happily. Jasper took music to please Sherlock, and he ended up learning the violin, being damn-near as good as his father.

John felt a pang of jealousy and sadness, because he had nothing to contribute to Jasper's education. Jasper claimed otherwise, saying that John had influenced his social life, and how he acted around others.

Jasper was basically a younger version of Sherlock, but with John's manners and social skills. A good mix, they thought.

Jasper left for university two weeks after his 18th birthday. He had been gladly accepted into Oxford. John was crying when he left, holding Sherlock tightly as they waved him off. Sherlock's eyes looked a little glassy, but pride was reflected plainly on his face.

Jasper was going to be taking two courses at Oxford; chemistry and politics. He was amazing at chemistry, having had learned the periodic table by the time he was twelve. But he'd taken politics because he genuinely enjoyed it. Mycroft and Sherlock both seemed extraordinarily happy. Mycroft had made it so that he could take two courses, primarily so he could take politics.

Now Sherlock and John had the flat to themselves, they took advantage of it. They only left the flat to buy food or to do a case. Sherlock seemed contented, and John was very, very pleased.

Jasper called once a week, making sure that his parents were okay, and reassuring them that he was doing fine at Oxford. He actually said, occasionally, that it was boring for him. Sherlock laughed at this, and John soon joined in, giggling stupidly.

Jasper was happy, Sherlock was happy, John was happy. Everything was so amazing.

Everything was so good.