The party was showing no signs of dying down. As a matter of fact, a few dozen more guests had arrived. Mycroft had assumed that Sherlock would seclude himself in his old room when it got too crowded. However, Sherlock was still on the main floor. He had been at the party for almost a whole hour. That was a new world record.

Mummy certainly was pleased. Having Sherlock around longer gave her a chance to brag about how she had the world's only consulting detective for a son. She bragged about Mycroft too and (if Mycroft would be so bold to say) she had a lot more to brag about with him. After all, he was basically the entire British government at this point.

Mycroft talked with some more people before heading over to the snack table. He frowned when he saw that all the cupcakes were gone, as well as the danishes and buttery rolls. It was easy to think that the guests ate them all. It was even easier for Mycroft to think that the lack of treats was his brother's doing.

From across the room, pass their dear grandmother and her fifth husband, Sherlock was smirking at him. The detective was idly sitting in one of the chairs and John was with him. John was munching on a chocolate chip cookie while trying to make conversation with Sherlock.

Mycroft took long, delicate strides over to where the two were sitting. He kept his composure, offering a cool smile of his own to counter Sherlock's smirk.

"Hello, you two. I trust that you're excited to see our family, John. How do you like our mother?" he asked.

John swallowed and look up at the elder brother.

"I actually haven't had the chance to meet her yet," the doctor admitted.

That was very strange. Mycroft was almost sure that Mummy would want to meet John the first chance she got. There was only one explanation for why she didn't. He turned to Sherlock.

"So you haven't told Mummy anything about John, have you?"

And boy did that cookie look good. John was almost finished with the sweet biscuit. Mycroft would have to be subtle when he asked him where in God's name he found that.

Sherlock knew that Mycroft was craving the treat in John's hand. Mycroft could just tell by the smug look in his eyes. It didn't matter. Mycroft was determined to win this little game that his brother had created.

"No, I haven't. How's your diet going?" he was deliberately trying to irk Mycroft. But Mycroft refused to let that work on him.

"It's going well. As a matter of fact, so well that I think I deserve a cookie. Where did you get it, John?" he turned to the veteran.

"He won't tell you anything. He's on my side," Sherlock insisted.

John sighed. Mycroft was starting to get a little bit aggravated at this point.

"Please tell me where you got the cookie, John," Mycroft repeated.

John frowned and looked at both brothers interchangeably. Mycroft was offering his award-winning, politician smile. Sherlock was casting a stern look at John.

"I don't want any part of this," John swallowed the last of his treat, stood up and walked away.

Well, that was pointless. Sherlock had his smug smile back on his face. Mycroft needed something sweet.

"There is no point to this, Sherlock. Why don't you just tell me where you hid the treats?"

The detective burst out laughing.

"Is it that important for you to pig out? You never change," Sherlock smiled, "What are you going to do if I don't tell you? Tell Mummy on me?"

Mycroft was really starting to get irritable. He loomed over Sherlock. The detective sat coolly with his legs crossed.

"Don't make me order you," he threatened darkly.

He was caught off guard when Sherlock grabbed his tummy and pinched.

"Look at this larb of fat. If I didn't know better I would ask you when you were due," Sherlock exclaimed.

Mycroft pulled away from his little brother's grasp. He slapped the offending hand away. He then took in deep soothing breaths.

"Look. I...I'm sorry that I've been so...controlling."

"And?" Sherlock pressed.

"And that I forced you to sleep."

"And?"

"And eat."

"And?"

"And date."

"And?"

"And give up smoking. Now for God's sakes tell me where they are," Mycroft said grimly.

Sherlock stared up at him. The look in his eyes told Mycroft that he was debating on how to answer.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mycroft saw John walking to the snack table. The doctor had all the stolen goodies in his hand and was placing them back on the table. Mycroft rushed over and grabbed a cupcake. Sherlock walked over to John.

"John," he sounded miffed but not upset.

"He apologized already, Sherlock. Let it go," John said.

"Fine. I'll let you gain another ten pounds, Mycroft," Sherlock told his brother.

With the sugar joyously dancing in his bloodstream, Mycroft was no longer in a sour mood. He smiled.

"I promise I won't nag anymore..." he trailed off.

"Too much," Sherlock and Mycroft completed the sentence together.