Chapter 13

Picnic Lunch

Sherlock and John run around one of the fields in the park with Greg and Dom chasing them. In one corner Mary and Mycroft set out the rugs and various food items that Mary had spent the morning putting together. 'This is a marvellous spread, Mary.'

'Thank you, I wasn't sure what you and Dom would like so I made a selection plus our favourites.' Mycroft looks over to the four of his (dare he say it) friends playing in the middle of the field.

'While they're playing, who's the match?' Mary raises her eyebrows.

'Greg doesn't really like me matchmaking.

'May I ask why?' Mary looks down.

'He and his first wife were matched by friends. Pushed together as it were. When the kids didn't come. Well, she blamed him.'

'The kids haven't come for you either.'

'I knew in my twenties I wouldn't be able to have children. I made it clear to Greg and he accepted the terms. I also told him I wanted to adopt or foster. I want kids but can't carry them myself.' Mary looks over at the children squealing with delight as the adults catch them.

'Your sister Sophia seems to be rather young, she's what ten years younger?'

'Oi, she's thirteen years younger actually. My parents called her the unplanned miracle.' Mary laughs. 'Mum and Dad always wanted a big family but not necessarily a large one, three or four kids. For a while there was only my older sister, Zoe, and me. They kept trying and none came, no I tell a lie, Mum fell pregnant twice but each time miscarried.' Mycroft winces in understanding. 'Then when they gave up, Sophia was conceived and born, and was spoilt by all four of us as she grew up.'

'You weren't resentful.' Mycroft frames it as a statement but Mary answers anyway

'Good grief no, I wanted nothing more than a little brother or sister to look after.'

'So who is the match?' Mary smirks.

'Tell me a bit about you, I know a tiny bit but I want to know more, I need to be sure.' Mycroft sighs.

'I should be the second and Shock the fourth. We had sisters. But they died before Sherlock was born. Ariadne drowned accidently, she went too far out and didn't tell anyone where she was going, I was six, and she was ten. I found her while I was walking with my nanny. Electra died two months before Sherlock was born.'

'How?'

'Suffocated while she slept. Carbon monoxide poisoning. She was eighteen months.' Mary shuffles around the rugs and encloses the government official in her arms.

'Your parents liked weird names.'

'We all had the myths and legends as bedtime stories. I gave Electra and Sherlock their names. Ariadne chose mine. Mother had miscarriages as well.'

'She will be perfect for you.' Mary whispers. 'But now is not the time.'

'Just answer me this, is she smart, hard working and caring around kids.'

'Yes to all of the above.' Sherlock runs up to Mary and Mycroft and dives onto his brother's lap giggling. Greg runs up puffing and collapses next to Mycroft.

'I win.' Sherlock shouts.

'Oi, tone it down.' Mycroft nudges his brother. Dom jogs up with John on his back.

'Shock won then?'

'Yeah. Has he always been like this?'

'Hyperactive, energetic and over the top?'

'Yeah.'

'Yes.' Dom kneels into the space between Greg and Mary lowering himself and John to the grass.

'Nice spot here Mary.'

'Mycroft chose it.' Mary takes the last box out of the hamper. 'Sherlock and John made these.' Sherlock immediately reaches out for it. 'Mini sausage plaits.' She hands them out making sure every plate gets one but that the toddlers each get two. 'Help yourself, people.' The four adults all pile their plates high with the food. Dom and Mycroft also fill the plates of their respective brothers.

An hour later all four adults have eaten all they can and all they want to do is laze around and digest the food. However the two toddlers have different ideas. Having been sitting for an hour all they want to do is run around again. John's tactics to get at least one of the adults to play is to snuggle in their arms and smile winningly up at them. Sherlock's method is much more forthcoming. He grabs the hand of one his careers and pulls trying to pull them up. Of course neither of the toddlers succeed not being strong enough. Sherlock flops down in a huff characteristic of his former adult self. He folds his arms and pouts frowning at the four of them. John swaps one set of arms (Dom's) for another, more gullible victim (Greg). Sherlock's pout disappears when he spots John's more subtle technique. He smiles carefully and crawls his way onto Greg's lap, confident that both of them will get Greg to play. The toddler sporting a mop of raven curls settles himself on Greg's lap next to John and nestles himself in. Greg wraps his arms around the pair. 'They're working together Greg. Think you can last?' Mycroft smirks.

'Oh I'll definitely give it a shot.' Greg replies resting his chin on the mop of curls. Sherlock tilts his head from side to side making his curls tickle the sensitive skin. John burrows deeper into his arm. Mary narrows her eyes.

'John's up to something.' She says carefully. Sure enough, moments later, John jumps up and runs off down the park carrying something. Sherlock follows. Greg quickly checks his pockets.

'The little-'Greg narrows his eyes. 'They are in so much trouble.'

'What did they take?' Dom asks.

'My ID, they nicked my ID. Check your pockets Dom.'

'He's got my wallet. Cheeky bug-bees.' They look to where John and Sherlock have come to a stop, they glance at each other. 'In three… two… one.' The two men burst from their seated positions and run towards the toddlers. The toddlers start running again and this time they separate. A game of cat and mouse ensures around the park. Finally, near to the picnic, Greg catches up with John and swings him into the air, John squeals in delight and clutches the leather object closely. Greg keeps a firm hold of the toddler as he sets him back on it feet and attempts to detach the wallet/ID from the toddler's grip. John wriggles determined to keep hold of it. 'Tickle him under the arms.' Dom's voice floats across the grass. Greg looks up, keeping hold of both leather and child, to see Sherlock squirming under Dom's arm. 'It makes him loosen his grip.' Greg moves his hands to tickle under John's arms. The toddler twists and turns in an effort to make Greg stop, but he persists until John drops the wallet. John reaches down to pick it up but Greg gets there first. John pouts.

'Cheeky.' Greg ruffles the blonde hair to show no hard feelings.

'Now, how to get this one to let go.'

'That's easy.' Mycroft calls over. 'Put him down.' Dom swings the boy to his feet facing Mycroft. 'Shock?' Sherlock stares his big brother keeping his grip tight on Lestrade's Police Identification. 'Biccies?' Mycroft holds up a pack of Sherlock's favourite brand of biscuits. Sherlock runs towards his brother dropping the ID on the way. The Watson brothers race to secure the ID but Dom gets there first and scoops it off the grass. The adults exchange items.

'You are a little monster.' Dom exclaims scooping his brother into the air. Dom carries the blonde toddler back to the picnic and seats themselves down, Dom keeping a firm hold of his little brother. Greg glances at his watch.

'Need to get back?'

'Ideally yeah but I really CBA.' Mycroft lifts an eyebrow. 'If CBB is can't be bothered CBA is?'

'Ah. However…' Mycroft tilts his head in Greg's direction. The DI glances over his shoulder and groans.

'Hello Donovan.'

'Saawwy!' Sherlock squeals clambering over Greg and the picnic to run into her arms.

'Hey, Shocky.'

'Unc Stwade chased us.'

'Did he?'

'Tell her everything Shock.' Sherlock shakes his head.

'Did you take something?' She lifts him onto her hip

'No.' He answers honestly.

'Really?' John wriggles out of Dom's grip and runs to her as well. 'Why did he chase you?' She wraps her spare arm around John's upper body.

'Careful Sally, he's striking.' Donovan glances down and sees John's little hand slipping into her pocket.

'Won't find anything in there young man.' She says calmly removing his hand. John pouts at her then throws a scowl at Mycroft.

'Did you need something Donovan?'

'Need you to execute a warrant.'

'If you've got it-'

'It's your name on the warrant. The owner won't let us in unless you're there.' Greg groans again.

'And there my vision of a perfect afternoon disappears into the ether.' He leans back allowing the blonde, hyperactive toddler to jump on his stomach. 'Sorry Donovan I can't I'm pinned.'

'What has he had?'

'Believe it or not. Nothing stronger than homemade good food and orange juice with plenty of fresh air.' Mary replies.

'They're both hyperactive.'

'You don't need to tell us Sally. You weren't the one chasing after a three year old thief and his accomplice.' Mycroft smiles.

'Neither were you.' Dom counters. 'It was me and Greg.'

'You could have told us about the bribery earlier.' Mycroft shifts onto his knees and lifts the small boy off Greg's stomach. John whimpers and reaches for his Uncle Greg.

'Mycroft, I had an excuse to stay here while he was on me.' Greg growls 'Now you've taken it away.'

'If I've got to go back to work, then you do to.' Greg tilts his head back to look behind Donovan. Anthea stands there on her Blackberry as ever when she's out of the office. Mycroft rises to his feet and extends a hand to Greg pulling him up as well, all while still holding a squirming John. A phone beeps and Dom pulls it out of his pocket. He leans over his legs and gently bangs his forehead against his knees. John stops reaching for Greg and looks worriedly at Dom. He looks up at Mycroft. 'Dom, you're scaring John.' Dom stops banging his head and looks up at his little brother. Mycroft sets the boy down and he climbs into Dom's lap.

'I'm sorry baby bro, work's wondering where I've got to.'

'Stay.' John demands looking round at the three men. 'Stay' He repeats. His expression softens. 'Pease.'

'We want to stay with you my bro work needs to be done. We'll be looking forward to being with you later. I promise.' John pouts but crawls into Mary's arms.

'He's not leaving forever chuck.' Mary whispers.

'I'll stay to help pack up.' Dom assures his baby brother. John smiles. Donovan sets Sherlock down and pushes him gently to persuade him to help pack him. He does and Greg, Donovan, Mycroft and Anthea quietly slip away to go and do their jobs. Albeit extremely reluctantly.