Brothers Meet
Young Mycroft sat in the surprisingly comfortable chair in Mummy's room, and looked down at the tightly swaddled blue bundle in his arms. Well, at least he now knew he had a brother.
Mummy and Father smiled gently at each other over Mycroft's head. They knew the anxiety their oldest had been experiencing over the last six weeks or so of the pregnancy. Mycroft was such an orderly child and, while he never said anything, his parents realized how concerned their eldest was at the thought of having a newborn in the house. Yet here, now, at this moment, they could see that all would be fine.
Mycroft was staring down at the small, flaxen-haired child with a look of awe. A tiny hand managed to wriggle out of the blankets and minute fingers flailed about the baby's face.
"Easy," whispered Mycroft. He brought his own hand up to still the child's movements when suddenly his forefinger was caught in a surprisingly tight grip. Wide, bright blue eyes opened and seemed to stare directly into Mycroft's soul.
Mycroft looked up at Mummy with a wide grin on his face. "What's his name?" he asked.
Father chortled and said, "His name is Sherlock. So, Mikey, what do you think?"
Returning his gaze to his baby brother, Mycroft said, "I think he's beautiful."