Chapter 14 : Don't Be a Fool~

Mycroft cleared his throat loudly,and Sherlock and John stood abruptly straight ,stumbling out of each other's embrace,and awkwardly swaying on their feet, Sherlock swiping at his tears, utterly humiliated.

For once Mycroft wasn't gloating over him like he were superior, but was actually smiling apologetically, like he truly understood.

And when Sherlock and John saw who was with Mycroft they both crowed like roosters facing the Judgement Morn, and stood at a crisp attention.

The Queen paused a moment taking the boys in. And then she said:

" I have been reliably informed that the both of you intercepted a plot to threaten my life. A soldier's head (I am to understand would be yours, John Watson) was to be left in my bed, a radical protest to the Afghan conflict, and a threat of harm to me. Which,waking to find a head as lovely as your own in my bed linens would send me into cardiac arrest ,Doctor,and so I suppose that would be as good as murder."

John blushed,just basically having been called "lovely" by the Queen of England. The Queen cleared her throat,and said:

"Sherlock Holmes, I will only ask you once, to kneel."

Sherlock looked utterly confused, for once in his life.

"You're being knighted, brother mine." Mycroft groaned, blinking, lips held utterly flat, completely appalled by Sherlock's lack of sense when it came to anything ceremonial.

"I...but...I?"

The Queen smiled, "Come now, I shouldn't like to have your knees broken. You will be made a knight, whether you wish to be or not. Consider it the punishment you think you deserve, if you like. I don't know whatever for...you've done nothing wrong."

John was laughing hysterically. He never thought he would be assisting Sherlock to his knees, with a clean sweep of his foot across the back of his legs.

Sherlock looked up, something like shame on his face, as the same huge group that had witnessed his confession a moment ago, now stood to witness his knighthood. Greg was shaking his head,and jostling Anderson saying, "Admit it, admit it! You knew he was good, you knew he was good under all that rubbish he'd say."

Mycroft brandished a sword that John just now realized he had belted around his waist. This must have been recent, it had not been there before. He stood for a moment, grinning like a child,as if he meant to swipe off Sherlock's head, but everyone that knew Mycroft knew that he was roiling over with pride that his brother had finally made enough of himself to earn such a title.

The Queen winked at Sherlock, which caused him to actually blush,and his brows to flutter, utterly unable to compute. John imagine that his motherboard was about to steam and blow a fuse, when the Queen touched the sword to either of his shoulders.

"From henceforth, you will be known, by those who still have the privilege to know you, as Sir Sherlock Holmes, Detective Consulting."

John was laughing,and clapping, and mocking, saying something like, "I told you it would happen someday ,you fool, you nasty git, and it serves you right!"

Sherlock was fuming at him, about to say something snarky,when in a calm voice the Queen said,

"Now, it's your turn, John."

John blanched. And Sherlock smirked like the fox that caught the canary, and pulled John forward, shoving him to hid knees, one firm hand on top of his head.

In late night quarrels over lack of milk, and lack of logic of the future, Sherlock would never cease from abusing the lengthy title of "Sir Captain John Hamich Watson, M.D. ,Consulting Assistant"...