"Holmes," I whispered. My voice barely carried over the sound of snoring that filled the room. But I daren't make it louder. Any louder and our target would be alerted. "I don't think this is such a good idea."
"Nonsense," Holmes hissed back, holding up a feather he had taken from a decorative vase in the corner and grinning widely. "After all, what are brothers for other than to tease each other?"
I inclined my head in acknowledgement and dutifully raised the jar of shaving cream. I paused just inches away from the outstretched palm. "Are you sure he won't be too upset?"
"Oh please, brother Mycroft is nothing more than a bumbling grizzly bear." A loud snore was emitted from the prostrate form, proving his statement. "Though at times he has proven rather ill tempered, I doubt he is one for retaliation."
Looking warily at my companion, I poured a substantial amount of the cream into Mycroft's hand and then watched as Holmes ran the feather over his brother's nose.
When Mycroft Holmes awoke to the sound of laughter, he could not quite understand why his brother and doctor Watson were giggling like mad and looking for all the world like a pair of guilty school boys.