A/N: There is no Mycroft in this chapter, but in the next one (or the one after) there will be.

I just figured that breaking up the 'meet the family' chapters was better.

Hope you like this one. John's a bit cranky :)

"Damned psychopath." John grumbled, picking up the remains of some poor rodent from the floor between a spoon and a cleaver.

"Sociopath." Sherlock called.

"At the moment, I can't tell which you are. Probably both." John shouted back.

"Thank you." Sherlock replied.

"That's not a good thing." John muttered. There was no point trying to convince Sherlock. The thing splattered on the floor twitched. All of the bits twitched. John gagged.

"Oh, it may begin convulsing. New chemicals, they're such fun." Sherlock grinned, walking into the room.

"Stupid bloody psychopath. Bloody stupid psychopath. Bloody…" John's grumbling trailed off as he scooped up the twitching innards of… Something. Sherlock watched with mild amusement and swiftly hid the cleaver once the body parts were in the bin. "I was going to chop of your ear with that." John complained.

"And now you won't." Sherlock grinned, dancing out of the way of John's palm aimed at his chest. John sighed and stalked from the room with Sherlock on his heels.

"What is with you today?" John asked.

"Nothing unusual. You've just had very little sleep and by the looks of it, you blame me." Sherlock smiled.

"You dragged a body through the flat for three hours!" John exclaimed. Sherlock shrugged.

"He wanted me to." Sherlock reasoned.

"Oh, yes. Obviously. And I guess that the head asked you to defrost it, too." John replied rather sarcastically.

"Might have done." Sherlock frowned defensively.

"Psychopath. Psychopath arsehole." John growled.

"Calm down, John. You need to go to sleep." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"I know that. It's you that doesn't seem to understand." John retorted. Sherlock turned away and fumbled through some piles of something, before turning back. Wearing a fake moustache.

"Boo!" He shouted. John jumped and pressed a hand to his chest.

"What the hell was that?" John gaped, breathing heavily.

"Doesn't a shock cure tiredness?" Sherlock frowned.

"No, Sherlock. Shocks cure hiccups." John scowled. Sherlock mused this.

"How illogical." He commented.

"Take the moustache off, Sherlock." John sighed.

"I like it." Sherlock protested.

"It's creepy."

"It's a moustache."

"Moustaches creep me out."

"Then I shall make Mycroft grow one." Sherlock grinned. John smiled slightly. "Now, off you go. Bedtime for you. I need you awake and ready for chasing an eleven year old child later." He added.

"Eleven?"

"Eleven. He's quite evil." Sherlock nodded.

"Oh."

A/N: Children are evil, and moustaches are creepy :) Let me know if you like it! (a load of reviews would improve the chances of another Mycroft chapter :P)