She set the last of the dishes in the washer and pushed the door closed. A beep signaled the starting of the machine, and after rolling her sleeves back up her arms she set to tackling the counters.

Not the ideal nor stereotypical way to spend Mother's Day, but Mrs. Holmes had never been one to go about things the usual way. Besides, she only ever heard from one of her sons, and his idea of communication was the sporadic card or two, containing the typical things cards do. Nothing thoughtful or truly sentimental. Mrs. Holmes hadn't seen a homemade gift card since her oldest son was six.

This year's Mother's Day card was already sitting on the counter. She hadn't bothered reading it yet, she already knew what it would say.

A knock came at the door while she was washing her hands.

"Just a minute," she called, shaking droplets from her fingers. She dried her hands on a towel as she walked to the front door. She turned the handle, and when the door swung open she blinked at the pair in front of her.

Of the two forms, one was obviously her firstborn son, Mycroft. She noted with surprise that he still had the umbrella she had given him years ago for his birthday. Surely he would have gotten a new one by now. Behind Mycroft was… well, a dragon. And the dragon's eyes looked very familiar to Mrs. Holmes.

She shook her had. "Sherlock, what sort of nonsense have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Who would have thought a dragon could look so sheepish.

"It, ehm… it's a long story," Mycroft said awkwardly. "And I had nothing to do with it."

"Glad to see you're solidly backing me on this, Mycroft," Sherlock muttered.

Mrs. Holmes shook her head again. They had been gone for a long time, but her boys were still the same. It must be true, the statement that some things never changed. She looked up at Sherlock, craning her neck up even further than she used to.

"Well, there is no way you're going to fit into the house, young dragon," she said.

Her youngest son seemed humored. "You don't say."

"So, what are you two here for?" Mrs. Holmes asked. "It can't be a holiday: you never come on Christmas, Easter, any of the other family gatherings…"

"We… we…." Her sons exchanged glances, each of them hesitant.

"We came to say Happy Mother's Day!" Sherlock blurted out in a tone Mrs. Holmes hadn't heard since he was a child. "So… Happy Mother's Day, Mum."

Mycroft whipped his other hand out from behind him. "We brought flowers," he said proudly. "And Sherlock tried to sign the card. He sort of sneezed on it, though, and…" he gestured vaguely "poof."

"Ah, so the allergy stills bothers you, Sherlock."

"It's gotten worse, actually. Result of the dragon thing."

"Your draconic state isn't permanent, is it?"

"No."

"Oh. I could've had use of a dragon around here." Suddenly she stopped, staring at her two sons. She hadn't seen them for years, and here they were, standing right in front of her. Holding flowers, and not holding their accidentally incinerated card. All for her. When was the last time they had done something for her? Actually stopped squabbling long enough to do something together?

"Mycroft, there's a kettle steeping in the dining room, you know where it is," she said. "Pour it into the soup pot and add more hot water, unless Sherlock for some reason no longer likes his tea. Sherlock, why don't you head around back and set your head by the big windows. That way we can talk with each other easier."

Mycroft strode past her and Sherlock spread his wings to fly over the row houses.

"Mycroft? Sherlock?"

Both her sons paused and looked to her.

"Thank you. Thank you very much." She felt tears brimming up, and she desperately tried to push them down. She knew her sons didn't care for people who cried. "I haven't seen either of you in a long time, and… this is very nice." Too late: the first tears managed to spill. Now would come the scorn.

But Mycroft's face softened. Sherlock's wings slowly lowered. Her elder son stepped closer to her, actually placing a hand on her shoulder, and her younger stretched out his long neck until his head nuzzled her, his snout breathing hot air into her face.

Mrs. Holmes had never received a greater shock in her life.

"Why… why are you doing this?" she whispered.

Sherlock's eyes gazed down at her, actually holding an amount of affection. "It's Mother's Day," he said.

Mycroft's smile communicated gentle amusement. "And the fact that you didn't murder us as children gives an extraordinary testament to your virtue."

Mrs. Holmes laughed. It was something she hadn't done in a long time. Sherlock smiled, and it was a genuinely happy thing.

"Happy Mother's Day, Mum," he said.

"Sherlock," Mrs. Holmes said disbelievingly, "you haven't said that to me since you were eight."

"Perhaps it's time I started again."

"Perhaps it's time we both started again," Mycroft added.

Mrs. Holmes made no attempt to move, nestled in the midst of the most peculiar embrace. Two sons, one a human and the other a dragon, but now each of them with a heart.

A ridiculously average thought came into her head.

Best. Mother's Day. Ever.

Fluff! Lovely fluff! Lovely out-of-character fluff! All for you, mothers! ^.^ Happy Mother's Day!

A second special, unofficial thing for ConJoHo this month. These are starting to happen with startling frequency. This one wasn't planned at all—the idea hit me this morning, I scribbled some of it on a paper, spent a marvelous day with my best friend and older sister and SO many more, then sat down at 10:00pm, typed it up, finished it off, edited it, and added some polish. Oh so fancy! :)

(Also, where's John? I have no idea. Maybe if I'm still doing this when next Mother's Day rolls around, I'll do something with him)

I promise, the next one will be the proper ConJoHo for this month. Maybe. If random inspiration doesn't strike again in the meantime.

…well, my distraction may be somewhat the fault of The Avengers consuming my brain. Seriously, that movie. That movie. Better stop now before I lose coherence.

Anyway, better stop typing so I can get this up before Mother's Day is over! Happy-happy-happy-superhappy Mother's Day! You moms ROOOOOOOOCK. Seriously!

~Andra