1981

"Mummy? Sherlock is crying again." Mycroft said, from the drawing room doorway.

"Where's Nanny?"

"I'm not sure." Mycroft lied, she was drinking in the pantry with the gardener.

"OK, dear, I'm coming now. Smith, could you make Mycroft some cocoa please and then take him back to bed." Mother said to the family's faithful butler.

"Of course, Madam. Young Master Mycroft." Smith bowed his head to the two of them and ducked out of the room. He returned moments later with a cup of cocoa on a tray.

"Biscuits, Smith?" Mycroft said with surprise, eyeing the treats on the tray.

"Our secret." Smith whispered.

Mycroft ate his biscuits and drank his cocoa before being led back to bed by Smith. "At least Sherlock isn't screaming now." Mycroft said as Smith pulled back his bedding, allowing him to jump into bed.

"Does he wake you often, Master Mycroft?"

"Yes, he does. It's quite annoying."

"Perhaps you could change bedroom, to another wing, so that Master Sherlock doesn't wake you?"

"Do you think Mummy would allow that?"

"She might, we wouldn't want Master Sherlock keeping you awake at night and harming your lessons."

"No, we couldn't have that."

Mycroft spent the night planning and the following afternoon he put his plan into action. He joined his mother in the drawing room as she took her afternoon tea. He sat directly in front of her with a book on his lap, blinking heavily.

"Mycroft, dear. Are you quite all right?" Mother asked from across the drawing room.

"No Mummy. I feel very tired."

Mummy put her cup down and lent across to Mycroft, placing her hand on his forehead. "Do you feel sick?"

"I'm not ill Mummy. Just tired. Sherlock woke me four times during the night." He rubbed his eyes.

Mother frowned with concern. "Nanny should be seeing to Sherlock when he cries."

"She does." Most of the time. "But he wakes me every time he cries."

"He'll be sleeping through the night soon dear."

Mycroft didn't believe that. Mother had been saying it for almost a year. "I could hardly stay awake in my lessons today." Mycroft said, pulling the ace from up his sleeve. He saw his mother's expression change. He was winning. "I thought that perhaps I could sleep in another room. Further from Sherlock until he is a little older." He continued tentatively, so close to getting his own way.

"I suppose you are old enough to not need to sleep in the same wing as Nanny any more. How about the Blue Room. It has a lovely view of the garden."

Mycroft tried not to look smug as he successfully manipulated his mother.

"Smith and the gardener can help you move tomorrow."

Sherlock

Mycroft stretched out in his new bed the following night. Blissfully looking forward to a night without being woken by his annoying little brother. He heard the door creak open, light spilling in from the hall. Mycroft sat up in bed, peering at the door. "Smith?"

"I thought that you might like some of Mrs Jackson's special chocolate cake, still warm from the oven."

"Oh, yes!" Mycroft said with a smile.

"How are you enjoying your new bedroom, Master Mycroft?"

"No more screaming Sherlock!" Mycroft said, taking the plate from Smith.

"Yes, and you can make as much noise as you want in this wing. No one would hear you."

Mycroft stuffed the cake into his mouth, not initially noticing Smith's hand being placed gently on his thigh.

"Thank you for bringing me the cake, Smith."

Smith patted Mycroft's thigh, moving it up his leg slightly.