Mycroft yawned and opened his eyes slowly. He was still in the room in John's house, staring at the wall. His body had curled around Sherlock in the night, who was still asleep. Mycroft yawned again and glanced out the window. Mycroft couldn't know for certain, due to the new location, but it was probably somewhere around nine twenty. He had slept much later than he normally did.
Mycroft shook Sherlock's shoulders gently, and the young boy shifted and peered up at him. He read that there wasn't anything wrong, just time to get up. Sherlock tumbled out of the bed, landing curled up. Mycroft smiled and got out of the bed after him, stretching. He paused for a moment, deciding whether to wear the clothes that John had bought for them or to wear the clothes they had brought. Sherlock watched him, before deciding for both of them by walking over to the suitcases and pulling out one of his shirts and a pair of pants. Mycroft smiled and got dressed quickly.
John came in a while later, looking surprised to see them up. Mycroft finished pulling Sherlock's shirt over the messy curls and turned to John, who was smiling.
"Come on, you need to brush your teeth, then you can have breakfast." John herded them both into the bathroom. Mycroft picked up a toothbrush, going to brush Sherlock's teeth. John shook his head and took the toothbrush from Mycroft.
"I'll do it. You brush your own teeth." John put a bit of toothpaste on the brush.
Mycroft frowned. Sherlock only ever listened to him when it came to this sort of thing. It would be easier to let him do it than to fight with Sherlock.
John smiled at Sherlock and carefully kneeled. "Open up, Sherlock." To Mycroft's surprise, Sherlock opened his mouth and John started to gently brush his teeth. After about thirty seconds, Sherlock started to get fidgety, bored and wanting to be done with this tedious activity. John shook his head. "Hold still," he said quietly, "I'm almost done." Sherlock whined, but John ignored it and kept brushing. Finally, Sherlock was so fidgety that John shook his head and took the brush out. "I suppose that's good enough." He stood up slowly and picked Sherlock up. "Spit." Sherlock spit into the sink and John put him down to fill up a cup. "Swish." Sherlock made a face, wanting to be done already, but swished as John picked him back up and then spit into the sink. He started to squirm and shot off as soon as John put him down again.
John chuckled and Mycroft spit into the sink. John smiled at him. "Let's go find out what your brother wants for breakfast."
They found Sherlock in John's room, jumping on his bed. John shook his head and picked up Sherlock, who squirmed and cried. "I wanna jump!" John sighed and put the sulking Sherlock in a booster seat at the table. Mycroft sat next to him, folding his hands in his lap. He had to be good to outbalance Sherlock's bad so John would still want them at the end of the two months. It was just the first day, and Sherlock was already making it hard.
John shook his head, but fondly, not upset. Mycroft relaxed a little. "What do you want for breakfast, Mycroft? I have cereal and oatmeal, and I can make eggs and toast and bacon…" John listed for him. "I also have water, orange juice, apple juice and milk."
Mycroft blinked at him for a moment. "Could I have some oatmeal? And milk, please?" John nodded and put the kettle on to boil some water. Then he went over to Sherlock and picked him up. Sherlock wiggled and whined, but John held tight.
"And what do you want, Sherlock?"
"I wanna jump!"
Mycroft tensed. Sherlock needed to stop. He needed to be good. John would take good care of them if he adopted them.
John shook his head and put him up on the counter. "If you're good, you get dessert."
Sherlock looked at him for a moment, processing the new information. "What do we get for dessert?"
John smiled. "It's a surprise. But I promise you'll like it."
Sherlock thought about this for a moment before sitting down on the counter. "I want milk. And cereal."
John chuckled softly and kissed Sherlock's forehead. "Alright. Milk and cereal it is."
Mycroft relaxed a little. It seemed John could handle Sherlock's sulks. He really would be perfect. Mycroft stood up and padded over to them. John looked down at him and smiled, ruffling his hair. Mycroft smiled a little back. A perfect father for them.
Mycroft watched as John zipped up Sherlock's jacket. Sherlock was fidgeting, and whining softly. Mycroft could clearly see what was going through his head. 'It was obvious that he was ready to go! Why was John taking so long?' Mycroft walked across the living room as John got up, leaning heavily on his cane. He was having a bad day. Sometimes John could go without the cane, but sometimes he needed it badly.
Sherlock raised his hands, asking to be picked up, and John sighed softly. "Not today, Sherlock." Sherlock started to whine, but Mycroft took Sherlock's hand and Sherlock fell quiet, but still pouted.
John took them outside, locking the door behind them and hailed down a taxi. Sherlock smiled and bounced on his feet. Mycroft could see that he was excited that they were going out. John hadn't been going to take them at first, but his friend had said there were going to be other kids there. They were going to John's friend's house. John went to see this friend, Mr. Lestrade, every Thursday to go drinking, but they were meeting up for Mr. Lestrade's birthday party this time. Sherlock was ecstatic that he got to go out. They had only been able to the park with Mrs. Hudson, their babysitter.
John got both of the kids into the taxi before sliding in himself, giving the address that the taxi was to drop them off at. Sherlock crawled into Mycroft's lap to look out the window at the darkening city. Mycroft wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist, bracing them for when the taxi driver slowed to a stop at intersections.
Sherlock watched the city go by with wide-eyes, even as the city faded into a more suburban area. The taxi slowly came to a stop and John paid the taxi driver as Sherlock and Mycroft climbed out. John slowly pulled himself out of the taxi, leaning on his cane and taking Sherlock's hand, leading them up to a door and knocking.
The door opened and the man at the door smiled. "John!"
John chuckled. "Happy Birthday, Greg."
Mycroft frowned. This man had been the policeman that had given the orphanage a tour of the Yard. The man got down on his knees and held his hand out. "Detective Lestrade, as I'm sure you remember."
Sherlock took Lestrade's hand and shook it. "You get to mess with bodies," he stated simply. Detective Lestrade laughed and stood back up, gesturing for them to come in.
Mycroft was looking around, watching the adults to see if any were potentially dangerous, when a little girl crashed right into him, knocking them both over with an oomph and a clatter.
Mycroft took a deep breath to calm down and not yell at the girl as he stood up, before offering her a hand. She took it and got up, picking back up the cell phone that had fell from her hand. She checked it over for damage and then turned her attention to Mycroft, looking him over. Mycroft stared at her. She was about eight, and an average height. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, with just a small wave to it. She stood confidently, not intimidated by anyone in the room. She was really pretty…
The girl stuck out her hand. "I'm Anthea. I'm going to be a super spy gadget maker. And maybe also a super spy."
Mycroft blinked at her. She had paused just slightly before saying her name. It wasn't her name. Why was she lying? Mycroft hesitated for a moment before reaching out and taking "Anthea's" hand, shaking it. "I'm Mycroft…" He stopped. What did he want to be when he grew up…? "I want to be boss of the super spies!" he blurted out, blushing faintly.
"Anthea" giggled and smiled. "Then you'd be my boss!" She grabbed his hand. "Come on, let's play spies!"
Mycroft bit his lip and looked over at his brother, who was now clinging to John's leg, glaring at Anthea. John stopped his conversation to pat Sherlock's head. "I'll take care of Sherlock, Mycroft. Go play with your friend."
Mycroft smiled widely and let Anthea take his hand and drag him off.