By Sunday night, all of Sherlock's things were packed away in boxes to be shipped to London or his suitcase and duffel bag to accompany him on the plane. John comes over a large suitcase and his backpack in tow near midnight.

The following morning, Warren drives the boys to the airport. It's long and too early and John sleeps on Sherlock's shoulder most of the way there. It doesn't take them long, though, to check in to their flight and tag their suitcases and send them on their way. Security is a bit of a hassle for the international terminal. John stops at the one fast food place open in the terminal that early, McDonalds, and grabs some food on their way to the gate. The waiting and then boarding take a long time. It's a long flight, just over 8 hours. Sherlock retreats into his mind palace and John alternates between watching movies and sleeping.

Its 9 pm when they land, and by time they get through customs and get through the baggage claim, it's nearly 11. Standing just outside the baggage claim is a tall man in a suit with a sign that reads 'S. Holmes.' Sherlock refers to the man as James and he takes their suitcases and leads them to a sleek black car waiting just outside the terminal. It took about 25 minutes to drive from Heathrow to the London house.

It wasn't anything crazy, not like the manor, but it was a spacious, high-end row house his father had purchased when he was just a baby so they could be closer to work. James carried their cases up to the front steps, opened the door, and let the boys in before following with the cases.

Sherlock chuckled at John's surprised face as the elder boy took in the elegantly decorated foyer and sitting room.

"You actually live here? When you said Kensington, I knew you had money, but I didn't expect this."

"It's a bit much for the four of us, but my father has his tastes. Mummy!?"

A returning call sounded from the next floor, and then, a middle aged woman with dark auburn hair appeared at the top of the stairs in front of them. She met the boys at the bottom of the stairs and Sherlock stooped to embrace the woman. It was easy to see where Sherlock got most of his facial features.

"Mummy, this is my boyfriend, John Watson. John, this is my mother."

John extended his hand and Mrs. Holmes shook it firmly.

"Good to meet you."

"It's a pleasure, ma'am."

"Call me Natalie. Sherlock failed to mention you were English."

John shot Sherlock a /look/ but he ignored it.

"Yes, we lived here in London until I was 14, when my dad left the Army."

"That's lovely. Why don't you boys head to bed, it's quite late and I'm sure you're exhausted after your flight. We can catch up in the morning."

The trio gave their good nights and Natalie headed upstairs. Sherlock turns and leads John through the sitting room and kitchen and down the stairs into the basement. It was finished and quite cozy for a basement, much like the attic room at Warrens. There's dark paneling on the walls and a huge four poster bed is pushed into the corner.

Sherlock leaves his case and bag on the floor at the foot of the bed and starts to strip down. John follows suit and the pair crawl into Sherlock's immensely soft bed together. It isn't long before the pair fall asleep curled up together.

-

John wakes up in the usual manner; slowly, to the heat of Sherlock pressed flush to his side. He can hear someone puttering around in the kitchen, directly above them. The clock on his phone reads 7:26 AM. He groans softly, and Sherlock tips his head back to look at him.

"Good morning, John."

John plants a sloppy kiss on Sherlock's cheek and stretches.

"How long have you been awake then?" John groans.

Sherlock hums and kisses the top of Johns head. "'Bout 2 hours, I guess."

John yawns and rolls into the heat of Sherlock's body. The pair lay together for nearly an hour before Sherlock rolls out of bed. John groans at the loss of contact.

"C'mon, Mycroft and Father will be off to work by now but Mummy will want to see us."

John drags himself out of bed after Sherlock and the pair head upstairs into the kitchen. Natalie is sat at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of tea. She looks up when she hears two pairs of bare feet padding across the tile floor.

"Good morning, boys."

Sherlock flops down in the chair across from his mother and John sits between them.

"So John. Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself? I want to know, who's this kid my youngest is so infatuated with? He had no interest in people when he left here in the fall."

"Um, I'm 18 and I just graduated high school. I'm the younger of 2; I have an older sister named Harry. My dad was in the army and I considered enlisting for a long time, but I changed my mind. I'm going to a community college in the fall to get my gen Eds done and then I'm going to the University of Chicago after that for their pre-Med program. I enjoy playing football. Um. I don't know, what would you like to know?"

"He's absolutely brilliant, Mummy. He's smart and patient and kind and caring. He's crazily athletic. He's quite sarcastic as well, but oh so funny."

"You sound quite smitten, love. You must be wonderful, John." Natalie stood from her chair. "Let me make you boys some breakfast and I'll let you go about your day. But remember, Sherlock, you need to be home for dinner so your father and your brother can meet John."

Sherlock groaned loudly as Natalie set about preparing breakfast.

"Yes, Mummy."

Sherlock turned his face towards John, just enough to make eye contact.

"What do you wanna do today?"

John shrugged.

"Can we just wander the city? It's been too long since I've been here. I wanna go to my old neighborhood, as well. Just to see what's changed."

Sherlock nods. Natalie sets a full plate in front of each of the boys as well as a stack of notes in front of Sherlock.

"For cabs and lunch. Just remember to be home by 6 for dinner."

"I remember. Thanks, Mummy."

John digs into his breakfast, whereas Sherlock mostly just picks at his, eating about half. Natalie gathers the plates and cleans them while the boys go downstairs to get ready for the day. Sherlock digs out a pair of dark jeans and a purple button up and a pair of boxers from his suitcase and threw them on the bed. John grabs a t-shirt and some blue jeans and a pair of pants and sets them next to Sherlock's clothes. Sherlock grabs two towels from a cupboard under the stairs and then leads John into his bathroom.

Sherlock turns on the water in the shower and starts stripping, piling his pajamas on the floor. Soon, Sherlock steps under the steaming hot spray of the water, pulling the curtain closed behind him. John rummages through the medicine cabinet and digs out a unopened disposable razor and a can of shaving cream and sets them next to the sink before stripping down to his pants.

He's just finishing up shaving when Sherlock steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist. They exchange a short kiss before John sheds his pants and steps into the shower himself. When he shuts off the water when he's finished, it's dead quiet. John peeks out to see Sherlock leaning over the sink, eyes shut. His hair is still dripping wet and he only has a towel slung around his hips. John grabs the towel next to the shower and ducks back inside to dry off before wrapping the towel around his waist and climbing out. Sherlock doesn't move an inch until Johns standing directly beside him. Only then does he turn his head to meet John's eyes.

"I want to go home," he begs John.

"Love, you are home."

Sherlock shakes his head, spraying John with water from his hair.

"This isn't a home. This is a house with four very separate inhabitants. Home is with Warren and Nicholas and you and Harry and your parents and Molly and Greg." One single tear trails down Sherlock's face, though his voice is steady. John wraps the taller boy up in a hug.

"We'll discuss it with your parents over dinner. C'mon. Let's go enjoy a day out in London."

The pair head back into Sherlock's room to dress hastily before heading out into a cool, overcast London.