"What on Earth is going on here?" Sherlock asked, strolling in to Mycroft's house. His smile was so wide it was almost shark-like, and he flopped down onto one of Mycroft's comfortable armchairs, with John and Lestrade trailing hesitantly after him.

"It's our two week anniversary, and he's swanning about doing god knows what with CCTV footage! We're meant to still be in the honeymoon stage!" Clone John supplied, his hand gestures showing his outrage.

"It's important work! Crime doesn't take a day off just because you made breakfast!" Mycroft retorted. Sherlock looked like he was about to grace the room with a joke about Mycroft's weight, so the real John reached up and covered his mouth with his hand.

"You're the most powerful man in the whole world no doubt, surely you deserve one day off? One of your minions must be able to handle things just for one day?"

"Why today? Why not our ten year anniversary? Surely that's more important?"

"At this rate, I don't think there's going to be a one year anniversary, let alone a tenth!"

Everyone stilled at that. The atmosphere in the room could be cut with a knife, if the knife could withstand the tension without cringing away.

"I didn't mean… You know I didn't mean it. Myc, please."

Mycroft stiffened; doing up the previously undone buttons on his shirt, before noticing he'd missed one and scowling down at his chest.

"Look, I'm just frustrated, and I'm sorry. There's no need to act like a child. Mycroft, look at me!"

"Déjà vu." John whispered sarcastically to Sherlock.

"My buttons are much better behaved than his." Sherlock insisted, missing John's point. John scoffed.

Lestrade stood quietly, surveying the situation.

"Lestrade, how much of my hair are you needing?" Mycroft asked, finally looking up but looking at Lestrade instead of his clone of a boyfriend.

"Fuck." Lestrade said, felling guilty and embarrassed and seriously considering running back out. "I'm not sure."

"John?" Sherlock asked. Both John's looked up. "No, clone John."

"We really need to sort this out. This is too confusing." The real John said, looking between Sherlock and his clone, who was currently leaning against a wall, lightly bashing his head against it.

"Agreed. I'll change my name. I'm thinking Martin? No, no, I have the perfect idea!"

"Here is a small sample of my blood." Mycroft handed Lestrade a clear bag with a tube of blood in, before reaching for another bag. "Here are four strands of my hair, three should be sufficient, but perhaps you can modify me a tid bit slimmer, just to please Sherlock, if you will."

"No, you're perfect." Lestrade realised what he said and bit down on his own lip in frustration. "Sorry. No brain to mouth filter today."

"It's quite alright." Mycroft then turned to Sherlock "Little brother, I do believe it's your turn. Though I am hesitant to see what happens as the result of having two of you."

Sherlock began to pluck out a few of his own hairs "I can understand why Moriarty wants a clone of me, but why does he want one of you, Mycroft?"

"He doesn't, Gregory does, and that's why he's been pulled into this. It will all be sorted out soon enough anyway though."

Lestrade hung his head in embarrassment.

"Oh Lestrade, you really could have done better. Mycroft, of all people? Old, fat, ice man Mycroft?"

Lestrade didn't even hesitate before lunging at Sherlock, his fist meeting Sherlock's nose this time.

Hey. Hi. Hello.

I'm thinking there's one, maybe two chapters left in this, plus the epilogue.

How are you liking this one? Good? Not good? So awful you're going to kill me, then resurrect me so I can write it again with your improvements?

Let me know, and I'll see you again in a few days.