Chapter 36

Jim's Conditions

Mycroft, Jim and Greg stop chatting and sit in silence when they hear two pairs of smallish running feet. Greg shuffles himself further behind Mycroft's chair. As soon as he stops moving the main office door bursts open. Mycroft and Jim look over to see Sherlock and John tumble into the office laughing. Mycroft smiles as the boys struggle to get themselves to their feet. From his position on the floor Sherlock scans the room. 'Where's Uncle Greg?' he demands finally standing up. John scrambles upright and looks around as well. He smirks. 'What?' John shakes his head

'Why aren't you speaking Johnny boy?' Jim asks. Both boys scowl having successfully ignored him but they don't answer. 'Oh.' In his not so good hiding place Greg struggles to stop himself from sniggering. John's eyes narrows and he takes off down the room and dart behind Mycroft's chair. He jumps onto Greg's stomach and bursts out laughing. Greg seizes him around the middle and he rolls the boy off his abdomen and they roll around on the floor. Sherlock watches before running over himself and jumping on his two best friends. They roll around for a few moments before Greg manages extract himself from the boys and stands upright. He reaches down and pulls both boys to their feet as well. Sherlock swiftly detaches himself and moves across to Mycroft and clambers into his lap.

'You are just a big baby aren't you?' Mycroft wraps his arms around his much younger brother. Sherlock squirms on his lap, digging his elbows into Mycroft's chest. 'Ow, you cheeky bugger.' Mycroft tickles Sherlock's torso making the eight-year-old wriggle even more.

'Isn't that making him dig his elbows in even more?' Greg asks with his arms wrapped around the young John.

'No, he's twisting away from me. Aren't you?'

'Mycroft!' Sherlock whines. 'Stop it.'

'What were we given?'

'When?' Jim asks.

'You said sedated, with what?' Sherlock manages to gasp in between giggles.

'Mycroft stop it now.' Greg says and Mycroft obeys

'You don't know?' Jim teases. 'I thought you would have known.'

'Some of my knowledge has been repressed by my youth.' Sherlock states. He glances at his elder brother before scrambling off and hiding behind Greg.

'I saw a small bottle of Vallergan in the kitchen of the warehouse.'

'Vallergan was collected as part of evidence.'

'You did let one go didn't you?' Jim asks worriedly. 'Only they knew where to send everything.'

'Yes, just like you said.' Greg says patiently 'We've put a GPS tracker on her.' Jim jerks upright and stares at Greg who buries his nose in the soft blonde hair, not making eye contact with the devious consultant. Sherlock glances between the two and smirks. Jim transfers his gaze to his young counterpart.

'What?' He snarls.

'Nothing.' Sherlock sings. Having regained control of his facial muscles Greg looks up and again. He makes eye contact with Mycroft who nods. Greg straightens and steers John back towards the office door. Sherlock stays in the middle of the office before Greg reaches out and grabs his shoulder drawing the dark haired genius child with them.

'Where are you going?' Jim snaps the departing men.

'It's getting on. Nearly time for tea.'

'Tea?' Sherlock asks.

'Dinner.' John clarifies.

'Oh.'

'Where's Sally?' Greg asks. 'She should have dropped you off.'

'She did. Then got called back to the yard.' John pipes up.

'Oh okay.'

'She texted you.' Greg fishes his phone out of his coat pocket.

'So she did.'

'What's up?' Mycroft asks.

'A certain person may be losing a certain document and a decent amount of money.' Greg smiles. Both Mycroft and Jim look confused. Greg makes eye contact with Mycroft and flicks his eyes towards Jim. Mycroft understands and smiles. 'Come on you two. Your Auntie Mary wants s home by seven.'

'In bed by half eight.' Mycroft says.

'No.' Sherlock protests.

'Why ever not?' Greg asks propelling the boy genius out of the door. John wriggles out of Greg's grip and scampers across to Mycroft's desk and collects Greg's coat and runs back to his guardian carrying the garment. 'Thanks John.' Mycroft and Jim hear.

'Lock, shut it.' John's giggling voice floats into the office.

'Don't take his side.'

'You're giving me a headache.'

'Boys don't push each other.' Jim smirks at the tired tone.

'Still here?' Mycroft asks sarcastically.

'The silver fox seems to be bypassing me for you to get your chemical recipe back. And taking my rent off me.' Jim adds in mock sadness. Jim stands and looks around the office. 'I'm giving them space, I would be following them otherwise.'

'Good.' Mycroft says simply. He takes out his pocket watch and glances at the time. The two of them hear the chatter of happy eight-year-olds and the odd comments from their guardian go under Mycroft's office window. 'Time for you to go.' Mycroft stands and walks to the door of the anteroom. 'Anthea, please escort Mr Moriarty out of the building and make sure he goes on his way.'

'Oh Mykey, why you so cold?'

'Do I really need to answer that pathetically obvious question?'

'Well yeah.'

'Because you are a criminal of the highest calibre. You forced my little brother to fake his suicide and caused an untold amount of pain and misery to John and Greg.'

'It was your fault, you shouldn't have told me.'

'We needed the information you had.'

'But I didn't have it.'

'Semantics. You chose you give that information to a member of the scum.'

'The scum?

'Also known as the federation of journalism.' Jim snorts and walks to the door. He pauses and looks at Mycroft.

'You must be feel really guilty.'

'More than you ever will, James. More than you will ever know.'

'Is that why you are so caring with them being boys?'

'No, when Sherlock was eight first time round we were close. I would say those feelings are resurfacing. Chances are next time Sherlock ages he will start resenting me. NOW GET OUT.' Mycroft sudden emotion surprises and scares Jim sending him scurrying out of the office and following Anthea down the hall. Mycroft walks over to his chair behind the desk and sinks into the leather before placing his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands. When Anthea returns she peeks into the office and sees Mycroft's shoulders shaking. Sensing that he needs space she quietly closes the door to begin preparations for a strong pot of tea.