And we're back with "The Youth Broker," part two ^_^ Sorry for the wait (and the cliffhanger!), summer is more frantic than a break.

Multiplelifes - Virtual cookies to you! ;)

Celestial Glowhead - Thank you so much! I haven't heard words like that for my writing in ages! I actually have further plans regarding their characters in the MCU ;)

"Sherlock!"

It was hard to come forth out of the darkness.

"Sherlock! Come on!"

But eventually, it had to be done.

Sherlock cracked his eyes open and groaned. There was a figure darting in and out of his vision, but it was all too blurry to tell what was going on.

"Sherlock? Oh, thank God. This is weird, even weird for us."

That voice sounded…wrong. It had a familiarity to it, but at the same time it seemed completely foreign. Sherlock blinked a few times in an attempt to clear his vision. As the person kneeling over him came into focus Sherlock became more and more confused.

In front of him was a boy who couldn't have been more than three. He looked at Sherlock with such desperation it lead the detective to believe that the boy knew him. He had dusty blond hair and dark blue eyes quite similar to–

And that's when it clicked. Sherlock sat straight up, regretting it a bit when spots danced in his vision. After he blinked away his light headedness, Sherlock stared at the boy in front of him. "John?" he squeaked out. The boy nodded. However, it was the fact that Sherlock no longer sounded the same that grabbed his attention. Sherlock scrambled to his feet simply to fall down on his face. He got to his hands and knees and trembled weekly for a bit. Eventually he choked out, "Me too?" John nodded.

Sherlock got to his feet once more, slower this time. John stood by him, ready to catch his flatmate should he fall again. The small detective leaned up against the coffee table. "How…how old are you?"

John looked down at himself before shaking his head. "Dunno. Five?"

Sherlock scoffed. "Five? You could hardly pass for four!"

John was quick to anger. "I've always been on the small side, okay!" He sighed, collecting himself. "You?"

Sherlock looked down at his thin, small (luckily clothed) frame. "Possibly seven – I'd need a mirror to be certain."

"Same here," said John with a nod. He looked around, unsure what to do next. "We should probably call Coulson, right?"

The detective shook his head. "He's out of contact for a few days. Not sure exactly how long."

John growled and began pacing. "Well, then what do we do, Sherlock, because I have no clue!" As entertaining as it was to watch the young doctor throw a tantrum, Sherlock did realise they were in a bit of a predicament. "Maybe we should call Mycroft," John suggested.

"No!" Sherlock shouted. "By no means are we telling my brother about this!"

John stopped pacing and began to calm down. "Okay–"

"Don't even say Anderson, that's a terrible idea." Now it was Sherlock's turn to pace.

John let out a sigh. "Well then, who?"

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"You've gotta be kidding me."

"No, Greg," said John, "I'm sorry, but we aren't."

Lestrade stood in the middle of the room at the Youth Broker's, staring down at the two kids. He shook his head in disbelief. "Look, kid, I don't know who put you two up to this–"

Sherlock groaned. "For God's sake – your wife is cheating on you again this time with an out of work actor, you had your second cup of coffee today before you came over, you had a late shift last night, and you were planning on going to the pub with John tonight," Sherlock finished, pointing to his friend next to him.

Lestrade was silent for a moment before rubbing his face. "Yeah, okay, but this whole mutant thing–"

"Is nothing new to the world," interrupted Sherlock. "Many people haven't encountered it themselves but mutants, aliens, gods, super soldiers, and monsters are definitely all real."

There was a long pause before the DI sighed. "Yeah, okay. So how did you two get involved?"

"The man who originally assembled the Avengers asked us to keep an eye out for mutant activity," John answered.

"Of course he did," muttered Lestrade in disbelief. "Alright, so what do we do?"

"Find Alice Marks," said Sherlock. "She's the one that did this to us, so let's hope she can undo it. Her flat is above the shop so she'll return eventually – likely not tonight, but within the week, definitely."

"Okay, I'll set up some patrol and we'll keep an eye on the place. What do we do in the meantime?"

Sherlock scowled. "Go back to Baker Street and wait it out."

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"John! Where's your gun!"

"I'm not letting you have my gun!"

"But I'm bored!"

Lestrade looked over his phone at the two. "Neither of you are going anywhere near a firearm, understand?"

Sherlock pouted up at the DI. "I'm not actually a child, you know that, right?"

Lestrade sighed and shook his head, looking back at his phone. "Some days I'm not so sure."

Snickering could be heard from across the room. "Oh, you're one to laugh, John."

John pulled a face. "What? What do you mean?"

"Five? I doubt it."

John scowled. "I told you, I've always been small!"

The fight most definitely would have gotten physical had Lestrade not stepped in. "Alright, that's enough." Both the detective and the blogger glared at each other from around the cop in front of them. "John, you go sit on the couch; Sherlock, you go sit in your chair."

The tiny detective almost looked offended. "What, are you putting us on timeout? Is that what this is? I'm not actually a child!"

"Well while you insist on acting like one I will treat you like one," Lestrade said firmly. "Chair. Now."

Sherlock glared up at the DI for a few moments, resisting the urge to stick out his tongue, before conceding and sulking over to his chair. When Lestrade turned around he saw John already sitting on the couch and looking quite guilty. Lestrade put his face in his hands for a moment before walking over to make a cup of tea – he hadn't had enough caffeine to deal with stuff like this yet.

After preparing himself a cuppa Lestrade sat himself down at the kitchen table and picked up the paper, giving it a look over. Absorbed in the article he was reading he didn't notice John sneak off the couch and into the kitchen. It wasn't until he felt tugging at his pant leg that he realised the small doctor had left his spot. "Uh, Greg, I can't reach the cupboard."

Lestrade looked down at John than up at the cabinets. "Oh. Okay, what do you need?" he asked, getting to his feet.

"Some kind of snack? There should be biscuits up there."

Sherlock's head popped up from behind the chair he sat in. "I want some too!" He saw John and glared. "Why doesn't he have to stay on the couch?" he questioned, sounding offended.

"Because he's quite sorry," Greg responded, pulling a tin of biscuits off the shelf.

"He didn't say sorry."

Greg handed John a biscuit. "Sorry," John said, then shoving the treat in his mouth.

Lestrade had to hold back a snicker. "See?"

Sherlock glared at the doctor and the DI. "Well I'm sorry too." He hopped of the chair and hustled into the kitchen. "Can I have a biscuit now?"

Lestrade pulled one out and handed it to the mini detective. The DI stared at the two kids in front of him in disbelief. "Are you two okay? I mean, you're acting really…" Lestrade paused to find the right word, "…childish…"

"Probably due to what ever Alice Marks did," Sherlock said, brushing his hands off on his trousers. "I don't like it either, but I can't seem to do anything about it."

"Me neither," chimed in John, "and usually I'm more mature than Sherlock."

"Hey!"

"Alright, alright, settle down boys." Lestrade didn't want an angry, eight year old Sherlock on his hands. "Look, it's getting late and I have the night shift again. Do you think you two will survive eight hours without me?" The flatmates were silent, staring at Lestrade and each other. The DI sighed. "Maybe if you both just went to bed the probability of something horrible happening would go down."

Sherlock glared. "Nuh-uh, I'm not tired."

Lestrade ran a hand over his face. "Are you sure?"

"Yup. I don't need any sleep – my body can run for days without sleep."

"Well, first of all, that's unhealthy; second of all, in this state you're going to need more sleep, I assure you." Lestrade tried to push Sherlock towards his bedroom but the mini detective put his foot down.

"I'm not tired!" he insisted.

"Humour me," Lestrade shot back. There was a moment of tense staring between the two before Sherlock turned around without a word and went into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Lestrade gave a long-suffering sigh and turned to face John. "I trust you," he said.

John nodded. "I'm just going to wash up first," he said, walking past the DI

Lestrade looked down at his watch. "Alright. Well, I'm going to head out. Call if anything happens or if Sherlock gets into trouble."

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He almost made it through the night, but at seven in the morning there was a knock on his door. He looked up to see Donovan. "There's some kids insisting to see you," she said. "I tried to talk them away, but they were persistent."

Lestrade stood up immediately. "Thank you Donovan, I'll go check it out." The DI left his office and walked towards the front of the building. There stood Sherlock and John, just as he expected, but there was also a teen girl standing behind them, arms crossed. "You almost made it eight hours," he muttered. "Alright, what's the issue."

"We tracked down Alice Marks," said Sherlock.

"And by 'we,'" said the girl, "he means me and his homeless network."

"Sorry, what's your name?" Lestrade asked.

"Vi," she said at the same time Sherlock said, "Violet van Dalk." Vi cringed at her full name. "Violet's a member of my homeless network as well as an insider of the mutant community," Sherlock explained.

Vi glared down at the detective. "I ain't a member of your bleedin' homeless network and don' call me a mutant!" she hissed, quiet enough to not be overheard, but just loud enough to be mildly threatening.

Lestrade's eyes flickered between the three kids in front of him. "Alright, but why are you here?"

"Saw two kids alone in London at night," Vi said smugly. "Couldn't let that happen; it can be dangerous."

Sherlock glowered at the teen. "Thank you for finding Alice Marks, your services are no longer needed."

Vi stuck out her hand expectantly. With an annoyed sigh and an eye roll, Sherlock fished out a few notes and handed them over. Vi gave a polite farewell and headed out of Scotland Yard. Lestrade looked towards Sherlock and John. "Alright, so where's Alice Marks?"

"Heading back to her flat. If we hurry we might be able to cut her off."

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Alice shoved clothes into her bag and jewellery into her pockets. She tossed in a few items of personal value before snapping her bag closed.

"Going somewhere?"

Alice gasped (nearly screamed) and whipped around. There stood Lestrade, Sherlock, and John. Once she saw the kids she let out a sigh. "Oh, it's you from earlier."

Sherlock stepped forward. "Yes, and I was sure hoping you wouldn't skip town without changing my friend and I back first."

Alice nodded. "O-Of course. Sorry, I-I just panicked."

"So I figured."

"But I can help you," Alice said, nodding her head. "Erm…Yeah, I can turn you and your friend back." She squinted. "I've never actually reversed someone this far before."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, and it's all very interesting but can we get a move on?"

Alice nodded. "Right. Er, you might be out for a while considering how far you have to go, but you can just stay here if you like – I'm still leaving."

"Why?" Lestrade asked. "You're in no danger, no one will be pressing charges, your identity and abilities are safe with us."

Alice shook her head, filling her purse. "I know I can trust Sherlock Holmes and any friends of his – yes, I figured out who you are, although a little too late – but it's not just you."

"SIP." Sherlock stepped forward. "What do you know?"

The young woman sat herself down on the edge of her bed. "Not much. A woman showed up at my door one day with the business card. She explained she would love to talk with me about my abilities." Alice lowers her gaze. "That's all I can really tell you, sorry."

"No, that's fine," said John, "thank you."

Alice nodded. "No problem. I'll still be leaving though, so SIP doesn't track me down – I barely had any interaction with the lady but I'm just…terrified. No one should know about my powers; I knew the Youth Broker was a bad idea." She shook her head. "Anyway, right, I'll get you back to normal." She raised her hands and grinned. "Who knows? Maybe I'll see you around?" There was a flash of light.

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Lestrade sat on the couch in 221B while Sherlock rushed about and John typed up their latest case – leaving out the seemingly impossible parts, of course. "So…" Lestrade begin, unsure exactly what to say. "You two were contacted by…"

"Phil Coulson," Sherlock filled in.

"Right. And he's the one who put together the Avengers, yeah?"

"That is correct."

"And he's hired you two," Lestrade pointed at the detective and doctor in question, "to keep an eye out for anything…"

"Out of the ordinary in a mutant, monster, superhuman sense, yes."

The DI put his head in his hands in disbelief. "It's always you two, isn't it? Why is it always you two?"

John cracked a smile and looked over his laptop. "It's not just us, though, you're involved too now."

Lestrade couldn't help but chuckle. "God save us."