"Power outage." Sherlock stated. "Nooooo, really. I hadn't noticed." Mycroft drawled. Greg lightly hit his shoulders while Sherlock scowled. "Well that's that, what now?" Sherlock asked to nobody in particular. "Well considering we don't own a generator, and the storm shows no sign of letting up we should prepare. Sherlock, tend the fire, get the blankets and some things to pass the time, Greg isn't fond of my pastimes and will probably find civil activities more entertaining. I'll get candles and flashlights." Mycroft stated and before anyone could respond the young adult sprang up and led a confused Lestrade out of the room.

"I would've thought Mycroft would want to, I don't know, hang out with Greg alone. He does seem to be a more independent person, why does he want to play games?" John asked, still curled into Sherlock's shoulder. "It is possible that he wants to make a good impression, on you and his… friend… by interacting and entertaining normal activities." Sherlock responded and sat up. "We better get those blankets, it'll start to get cold soon." "Right," John responded and stood up, pulling Sherlock up after him by his hands. "I was comfortable" Sherlock grumbled but gave in anyway.

Sherlock threw in a few logs to feed the fire, poked it a few times and left it. He kissed John's head as he passed him on the way out of the room. Sherlock led the way into a small storage space under the stairs. John walked forward in the darkness and felt a tickling on his shoulder. A spider? John jumped and swiped at his shoulder, although a tingling feeling remained. Meanwhile, his boyfriend was laughing his head off behind him. "It's a light switch string," he managed while laughing. "Oh bugger off." John couldn't help but chuckle at himself. The closet was rather tight, and when the door closed what little natural light they had diminished. John's breath hitched when he felt the other's warmth breath on his neck. Sherlock's arms slid around his waist which shot electricity through John.

John turned around, keeping Sherlock's arms around him and wrapped his own around the other's neck. Sherlock leaned down to kiss him and John responded enthusiastically, slow and sweet in the darkness of the closet. After a minute, two people bounded down the stairs, sending dust falling on John and Sherlock's hair. The taller pulled back and smiled, then moved away to grab a couple of blankets from memory. John couldn't see, but Sherlock seemed to be opening a chest and taking a couple of boxes that rattled. Sherlock swept across the small closet, collecting things before balancing it all on one arm and opening the door. Emitting a soft glow in the closet.

John followed Sherlock out and back into the sitting room. Sherlock set his stuff down in a heap, what seemed like monopoly, clue and a deck of cards were encompassed in two large blankets. Mycroft and Greg were already seated on the couch, a low table set up in front of them with two large white candles emitting a soft glow and an aroma of sweet smoke. "I guess that means John and I will sit on the floor then." Sherlock directed a glare at Mycroft, who gazed back blankly and didn't respond. "Oh that's fine, really, I don't mind." Mycroft wasn't the only one who wanted to make a good impression. Sherlock smiled and walked up to John, brushing the dust out of the honey-colored hair. John returned the favor, tutting as his fingers got caught in thick curls.

John was trapped by Sherlock's gaze until his brother cleared his throat, letting them know they weren't alone. John sheepishly dropped his hand and sat opposite Greg. Sherlock sighed and threw a blanket at Mycroft who caught it with grace and unfolded it to wrap it around himself and Gregory. Sherlock set out monopoly and draped the other blanket across his and John's lap.

The next few hours went by quickly, consisting of comfortable small talk, laughing and hand holding whenever the opportunity arose. Mostly though Sherlock had little arguments with his brother about how they should include tax on property's and how income tax is unfair and which properties each shouldn't have bought and why. John and Greg shared more than one respective confused gaze while their boyfriends bickered. The candles burned low and the fire soon fizzled to burning embers, everyone too lazy and comfortable to get up and tend to it. Mrs. Holmes came in a few times to set out snacks, sodas and a pizza, each time smiling at her sons and their chosen partners. She couldn't explain the joy in her heart at her boys, happy and interacting with each other, despite the harmless arguments.

Slowly but surely the sun set behind the thick clouds and night came along with a cold temperature. All that was left were pizza crumbs and empty soda cans. The pairs were sitting closer together then when started due to the now freezing atmosphere. When Mycroft won yet another game of war, they decided to retire to bed. No longer did it take for John and Sherlock to put the games in a neat stack and put out the fire than for Greg to kiss Mycroft, who blushed and glanced his brother. He wasn't used to PDA, especially in front of his brother. Sherlock chuckled and briskly kissed John before taking his hand and dragging him up the stairs. Mycroft smiled and returned his attention to the only person in the room.

When John shut Sherlock's door behind him, he shivered, cold at the lack of blanket and body heat. Noticing, Sherlock wrapped his arms around him and pulled him under the covers. John immediately snuggled so he was half under Sherlock, face buried in his chest. He could smell laundry detergent and Sherlock's unique indescribable scent. Lulled by Sherlock's soft breathing on top of him and the still steady rumble of thunder and rain John fell asleep content.