Chapter 10
"Hello, brother mine."
"Good God, Sherlock." Mycroft groans. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, just popping in to visit my favorite brother." Sherlock says evasively.
"What do you want this time, brother mine?"
"John and I are going out on a case." Sherlock begins. Here it comes, Mycroft thinks. Any second now… "And the children would benefit greatly from an afternoon with their esteemed uncle."
"Mrs. Hudson refused to watch them, didn't see?"
"She went out. Something to do with being my land lady and not my babysitter." Sherlock shrugs. "Well, have fun." He walks away.
"Sherlock." Mycroft says. Sherlock doesn't stop: he walks faster. "Sherlock! I'm not good with children!"
"You'll do fine!" He calls back. "I have complete faith in you!" The door to Mycroft's office slams shut, leaving him, the kids, and their wolf alone. "I don't like children," he warns them.
"If it makes you feel any better," Lila begins. "I don't particularly care for old people, either. So, I guess we're even. Do you want a cookie?" She pulls a chocolate chip cookie from her bag. "I made it myself."
"Alone?" he asks suspiciously.
"The doctor guy helped her." Acke says.
"You mean John?"
"I think so. Is he a doctor?"
Mycroft sighs. This day was never going to end. "What do you two do for fun?"
"Plan mutiny. What else?"
"How about we turn on some tele instead? That's…fun…I think. Don't children watch television in America?" He was going to kill Sherlock for this, he vowed inwardly.
…
"I can't believe you did that to that poor man, Sherlock."
"Aw, he'll get over it." Sherlock shrugs. "After all, he is the British intelligence. They're trained to be ready for anything. Watching them should be child's play…no pun intended."
"Right, but still…"
"Come, John. The game is on!" He says excitedly as he breaks into a hurried run, leaving Watson to trail behind him.
…
Oh dear, God. In only two short hours these 'children' have nearly brought the entire branch of parliament to their knees. Papers cover his entire office and it would take hours if not days to return every sheet to its proper folder and location. The tele lies dissected on the ground and occasionally coughs up a few sparks as if to scream that it's still alive and would appreciate someone coming over to put it out of its misery.
Acke lies on the ground with his head tilted to the side as he rolls his toy car back and forth and back and forth, his eyes focused on the rotating wheels. This only succeeds in sending more stacks of paper billowing down onto the ground and the wolf puppy jumps and leaps happily, crumbling the important documents into the floor. Lila is reading in Mycroft's chair, her eyes pulled into a frown as she mouths the words under her breath.
Mycroft walks into his office with a plate full of sandwiches for the three to eat for lunch. He takes one look at his mangled office and the plate clatters to the floor, their food bleeding into his paperwork. With a snap, the pup makes good work of their food and Mycroft stares in shock and dismay at the state of his once painfully neat haven from the rest of the world.
"Dear, God." He whispers. "How is it even possible for this much damage to have occurred…? I've only been gone seven minutes…seven minutes exactly…"
"Don't look at me," Lila shrugs. "I think Moriarty did it."
The two kids run from the run and Mycroft continues to stare at his demolished workplace, his eyebrows pulled into a frown.
If it was a war these two desired, then it would be a war that they received.
…
"Sherlock? What are we doing at a soup kitchen?"
"Keep your voice down, John. I'm investigating a lead."
"A lead?! How can you possibly have a lead this quickly!"
"See that man right there?" Sherlock says quickly, ignoring his friend's comment. "The one with the blue scarf and the black coat?"
"Yeah…" John gives Sherlock a funny look. What is he up to this time, the doctor wonders.
"Keep an eye one him and tell me what he's up to."
"Okay…wait, where are you going?"
"To see a man about a bomb."
"A bomb? What bomb?"
"Of you pop, John" He nudges John forwards and takes off at a gallop before the doctor can stop him. John rolls his eyes and sighs.
…
"Come on," Lila pulls Acke underneath a table with a long red tale clothe. "Stay quiet." She whispers and he stifles a giggle and nods.
"Children," Mycroft calls eerily, drawing the word out as he says it. "Where are you?"
Again, Acke stifles a giggle and Lila puts her hand over his mouth.
"Shhh," She breathes. "On three, we run for it."
Mycroft's footsteps near the table.
"One."
He gets closer and they tense.
"Two."
His shadow flickers on the edge of their vision.
"Three!"
They leap to their feet and rush away only to be intercepted by security guards.
"Now, then." Mycroft says softly. "We are going to go back to my office and you will return it back to order."
"Or?" Lila challenges him.
"Defy me," He threatens darkly, "And you'll find out." He walks away, swinging his umbrella from side to side and the guards drag the children after them.
…
When John and Sherlock return to pick the kids up to take them 221B they find Mycroft duct taped to his chair with finger paint all over his face. The room is littered with crumbled papers and his desk is upside down, the trashcan emptied into his chair. He glares at Sherlock and Sherlock raises an eyebrow at him curiously while John moves to release the man from his sticky prison.
"Hm," The younger Holmes brother remarks. "You fell for the old 'drugged cookie' gag, eh, brother mine? So, where are the little ones?"
"I don't know," Mycroft growls, "but when you find them, give them my best." He stalks out of the room and hits the wall with his umbrella before disappearing from sight and John shoots Sherlock a worried glance. Sherlock looks away to hide a smile.
"So…I take it that it didn't go well, then?"
Sherlock bursts into laughter. "Oh, John." He says between gasps. "I'd say it went perfectly!" Tears stream from his eyes.
"But the cookies weren't drugged, Sherlock. I helped make them myself."
"Not exactly, I may have switched the vanilla out with—"
"Sherlock!"
"Come on, John. Even you have got to admit that it was amusing to see him like this."
"That was wrong, Sherlock."
"But still humorous, no?"
"Sherlock…"
"I regret nothing."