John was being mercilessly teased for referring to a small fish as, "fishy".

Sherlock had found a lake suitable for public use and had taken John swimming. The little boy had been so excited he had forgotten he was a Jedi padawan, Sherlock Holmes's apprentice, and one of the most promising knights at the temple and had gleefully exclaimed "fishy!" upon seeing a fish swim pass his legs. Sherlock immediately snickered.

"Shut up." The boy snapped. "I'm eight."

"And a half." The master chuckled. "Forgive me, little one. Fishy had been deleted from my vocabulary list since I was two."

"Mast…Sherlock, the word kindness has been deleted from your vocabulary since you were in the womb." His padawan grumbled. "Please, Father." The boy said mockingly.

"Don't." Sherlock tugged his ear. He lowered his voice. "I would never want the misfortune of being your father, brat."

John snorted. "Forgive me, Master, but the misfortune would be mine. Imagine the three hours you take for yourself with an infant. What would happen then?"

"Your mother would be of some service."

John mauled it over. "There is no woman alive who would put up with you, old one."

"Then it is safe to assume your mother would have left with you. We would have never known each other." Sherlock nipped his ear lightly. The sun was setting over the lake and parents were calling in their children. Sherlock allowed John to run into the water and splash around like a manic. John giggled fiercely as he dove out farther.

Sherlock kicked his boots away from him, it had been a productive day. His homeless network was beginning to take form, he had met an associate of Moran's, and most importantly, John had enthralled about being able to join him. The boy dove under the dark water only to spring back moments later with a bobber fish in his hand. He waved.

"Sherlock!"

The knight rolled his eyes, his little one pouted heavily.

Please, Master.

Play with your fishy, John.

A small pause.

You asked for it.

"Daddy!" John called in his young voice, making him sound six instead of eight. "Daddy, come play!"

Sherlock growled at the padawan, but the boy merely waved harder. He was beginning to attract looks, not that they bothered him, but it was still unwanted attention. He sighed and shed his tunics. John frowned as most of the females on the beach stopped to stare at his master.

Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to call for him.

Sherlock paid little attention to the swooning women, he sulked angrily into the water, and swam to his padawan. John grinned at him. "'Lo."

Sherlock gave him no greeting, he simply dunked the blond head beneath the water. He held John firmly as he thrashed. John swung a Force filled kick at his shin, Sherlock hissed and dragged the boy under. Both Jedi tussled aggressively beneath the water surface, but they were laughed fiercely.

Sherlock allowed John to briefly come up for air, before yanking him back down again. John ended up wrapped tightly around Sherlock's neck as they both surfaced. The older man stopped beaming the moment he was in viewpoint of the beach. John continued to giggle against his teacher's scarred chest. Sherlock shook his head, to the untrained eye he seemed bored.

But John knew he was laughing.

John clung to Sherlock as they swam to shore, the evening had depleted the boy's energy reserves. Sherlock managed to pull his boots back on with the boy attached to his neck, but was forced to ignore his tunics. He picked both his and John's up and stuffed them into a bag. John nipped his ear lightly as they headed towards home.

"Thank you for letting me come today, Master." John whispered contently.

Sherlock silently pressed their foreheads together.

Something was clearly troubling the elder man. He was being uncharacteristically silent, John bite him rather hard on the ear. Sherlock cringed.

"Tomorrow. Tomorrow, little one, I need you to stay at the flat."

"Why?" The child whined. Sherlock said nothing. No snide comment, no reassurance, nothing. John wrapped his arms tighter around his neck. "Please, Master?"

"Did I stutter, little one?" Sherlock said firmly. "You will stay in the flat tomorrow."

"I'll follow you!" The boy threatened. "I'm your pa…" A crowd of people walking home began passing them. John growled in irritation. "I'm yours. Qui Gon said you used to follow…Grandpa Lestrade."

Sherlock set his jaw firmly. "I was older than you."

"By two years!" The boy squirmed. "I can help, please!"

Sherlock flung the door open to 221B, he glared down at his padawan. There was a defiant glare in the young boy's eyes, he would not be left out of the action. Sherlock sighed. "I need you to accept my answer." He stated knowingly.

"No. Please, sir. I can help. You know I can." He nuzzled Sherlock's neck affectionately.

"I have been informed that Moran will be in the plaza tomorrow evening." Sherlock said softly. "I will be going there alone, you will be here. Even if I have to tie you down, little one." Sherlock felt the boy tense. "I will take you again on my homeless network run tomorrow."

Sherlock heard a light growl, but the boy was nodding. Much as the boy wanted to be defiant, he did not want to fight. "Yes, Master."

Sherlock wasn't naïve enough to believe that the boy had given in. But he also did not want a fight, he set the boy down and carded his hand through the child's hair. John's mind was wondering, as they ascended the stairs. Sherlock tugged his ear.

"I meant it, little one."

"Of course, Master." The sweet reply.

oOo

Sherlock remained hidden in the back of the crowd.

A great festival had formed in front of the Stewjon palace, children were running around, adults were chatting happily, the food was to die for, and yet Sherlock would have rather been at the flat with John. He sighed as he leaned against a strong post, many people glanced at his dark, unruly hair and scowled. He shrugged.

A girl was strolling pass with a plate of chocolate covered pastries that would have had John begging him for them. Sherlock scrunched his brow together.

Why would Moran be here?

He looked down at his bare feet as palace guards strolled pass can cast him snide looks. He rolled his ocean blue eyes. A band of thugs, who were far too good for anyone else. They knocked over a small boy as they stalked pass. He broke into sobs, Sherlock cocked an eyebrow as no one came to the child's aid.

The small blond boy, no more than four, tottered up to him with a small pout. He looked so much like John, Sherlock instinctively knelt. The boy began to cry harder.

"Can you help?" He whimpered.

Sherlock tried to snuff his scowl. "How?" He asked shortly.

"I-I am l-lost." The boy's voice wavered as crocodile tears rolled down his cheeks. He gazed up at Sherlock fearfully. Sherlock gazed the boy over quickly, he noted the torn sleeve, muddy back side. The child had asked for help before, but had been turned down.

Rudely.

Sherlock glanced sideways and slowly motioned for the tot to come to him. The hopeful look that spread across his face was too much like John's. Sherlock hoisted to boy into the air and carefully held him in the crook of his elbow. He held the toddler above his head carefully. "Where?" He kept his voice short.

The boy stopped crying as he was set above the crowd. He glanced around rapidly and gave a small squeal. He pointed off to Sherlock's right. "Mummy!" He gave a loud, childish roar.

A beautiful blond woman sprinted through the crowd as Sherlock set the boy down. The mother slid on her knees as her son ran to hug her. She pulled him in close, her white shirt became stained with tears. "Owen. My Owen, don't you ever run away from me again." She stroked his hair lovingly. Sherlock turned to leave, the last thing he needed was a woman screaming he kidnapped her child.

"Wait!" The little boy, Owen, ran to him. Arms were thrown around his leg gratefully. Sherlock was taken aback. The woman gaped at her son as he thanked the young Jedi and ran swiftly back to her.

"You helped him?" She asked awed. "You don't even know him."

"I have a pup." He said easily. "He's eight, runs away from me all the time as well."

"Do not." John huffed offended as he licked chocolate from his fingers. The woman smiled warmly, before taking Owen's hand and walking off.

"Not now, little…" Sherlock grabbed his padawan by the back of the collar and shook him. "John." He snapped.

"Sherlock." John snapped back.

"I told you to stay with Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock's voice was enraged.

"I am with Mrs. Hudson." John said smartly. "She brought me to see the new prince. Wasn't my fault you didn't ask what we were doing today." John gave him a cheeky grin. "Come on, Sherlock. Aren't you a little impressed?"

"You-I…grounded." He finished, dropping the boy back onto the warm ground.

"Why?" The child whined.

He was slight impressed. The boy had weaseled his way into the plaza and had obeyed all his master's orders. Sherlock sighed.

"That was nice of you." John changed the subject quickly. "With that kid, I mean."

"Little one, do not think I am foolish enough to fall for that." Sherlock said sternly. "You deliberately disob…"

"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson smacked him little in the back of the head. "You are ruining the festivities. Let John enjoy himself, there is no dark being here. Only the king's long lost son come home."

"His long lost bastard son." Sherlock scratched his head heatedly.

"Yes, well…his legitimate son was killed. By Jedi, it's rumored."

John tugged on Sherlock's pant leg. "Is that true, sir?"

Sherlock carded his hand through the boy's soft blond hair. "I hardly glanced at the history, John. I only heard some fisherman mumbling about a bastard as an…ow!"

Mrs. Hudson wacked him again. "Language, please."

Sherlock audibly hissed at her, she raised a hand mockingly. He scooped John up and held him as a shield in front of his face. Mrs. Hudson laughed warmly as the child flinched dramatically. Much to the youngster's dismay Sherlock set him back on the ground.

Sherlock was not an affectionate man in public.

John had to settle for holding onto his pant leg silently.

"Sherlock," he gave a small tug, "am I really grounded?"

"Yes."

"Balls."

Sherlock grinned down at his padawan wolfishly. The boy quirked a questioning eyebrow, which caused the knight tug his ear lightly. Mrs. Hudson stood beside them and smiled. They had their own way of speaking to each other.

"If you you'll excuse me boys, it doesn't look like I'll be needed." She dismissed herself with a slight nod, Sherlock glared at his padawan. John shrugged.

"I wanted to come, but I didn't want to argue, sir." John said timidly. "If there had been any real danger I would have left, Sherlock. Honest." He peeked up at his master.

"Little one-" Trumpets blared through the evening, loudly announcing the king. Sherlock frowned. "We will discuss later. Be thankful I am not sending you home this moment."

"Yes, Master." John said miserably.

Sherlock nudged him impatiently, the boy sank further into misery as he realized his mistake. Anxiousness filled his chest as found himself believing he should have stayed with Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock watched the tiny figure silently.

The king of the Stewjons strolled out onto the balcony waving gracefully. His muscular form and short, croppy blond hair made him seem intimidating to say the least. His lips were drawn into an almost forced smile that was fiercely ignored by his people as they cheered loudly. John tried to stand on his tip toes, but even then his short stature prevented him from seeing his king. He sighed, it was a truly awful day.

Sherlock frowned as the boy slumped forward in defeat. John trained his eyes on the ground, not even bothering to ask Sherlock for help. The knight leaned over and sat the boy on his shoulder as he rose back into standing position. John squealed as he sat high above all.

Sherlock said nothing as he balanced the boy carefully. John gave him a happy glance. Slowly he mouthed the words, "Forgiven?"

The moment the deed was over.

"Thank you." John said softly over the roar of the crowd, Sherlock merely tightened his grip. The child smiled at the man he held in highest respects. John rested his forearm playfully on his master's head and cheered with crowd. A faint chuckling sound could barely be heard above the roar as the king introduced the new prince.

"Good people!" He shouted. "In honor of the fourth anniversary of my son's death, gods rest his soul, I am pleased to introduce my son, the new heir to the throne, Sebastian Moran Watson!"

Sherlock blanched as the crowed jeered with enthusiasm. He pulled John closer as the crowd sheered the name "Watson!" repeatedly. John clung to Sherlock's neck desperately.

"That's…"

"I know." Sherlock snarled.

John trembled as his nightmare flashed over his mind's eye, he closed the non-existent gap between himself and the knight. Sherlock shuddered with fury as one of his former torturers waved shyly over the balcony. His rage was barely contained at the thought of him sharing John's name, his nose, his careful smile, and his eyes.

They were clearly…

"Master, his eyes are blue." John whispered in horror.

"A trick of the dark side, little one." Sherlock hissed as he saw what really was. A tormentor waving boredly to a crowd of fools. "Feel, don't look." The knight wished he had kept silent as John's body went livid with terror. His nightmares had become real.

"His last name…Master, I don't…" John felt himself being pressed against his master solid form.

"You shouldn't have come today." The knight wasn't helping.

"Are we…?"

Sherlock tucked his chin over the blond head protectively as mumbled, "Yes".

They were clearly half-brothers.