CHAPTER THREE

"Well… this is nice."

Sherlock grunted before throwing himself down on the window seat and staring out across the miles of silent open country. He pulled out his mobile and checked his messages for what must have been the billionth time that day. Crime doesn't take a holiday after all. Well except for this year where it seemed that fate and the criminal underworld were conspiring to keep Sherlock trapped in this nightmare of a family reunion.

"Sherlock, please stop that." John pleaded walking over to one of the small chairs that sat either side of the fire. Swallowing hard he tried not to think about the sleeping arrangements, but couldn't quiet clear is mind of the matter. It wasn't like he hadn't shared a room with other men before, he'd been in the army for god sake, but there was a big difference between sharing a room and sharing a bed. He scanned his surroundings. No couch, just his luck, a giant stately home and their room didn't have a couch. The room was a beautifully painted blue; with a large desk dark wood desk in the corner that John was sure would have been swamped with test-tubes, beakers and a severed head or something equally as disgusting, until Mary Holmes had had it all cleaned away. Two dark leather chairs framed the small fireplace giving the room a distinctly study feel to it. - All in all it resembled the living room of their small apartment, if it had a bed slap bang in the center.

"So this used to be your room?" John asked absently.

"Yes."

"Nice."

"Dull."

John turned around to stare at his flat-mate. "Dull?"

"She removed my experiments." The lanky detective complained. "There's no sign of a case and I'm already bored."

John shook his head. "I guess it's lucky I didn't bring my gun, I don't think your step-mother would appreciate bullet holes in the walls."

"If I want to shoot John, I could just go down to my father's study to retrieve a weapon."

John rolled his eyes and sigh. "Well…. Your step-mother seems nice."

"Humm."

"And your fathers…."

Sherlock turned questioning blue eyes on John. "What?"

"He's…" what could he say. He was pretty sure 'weird' wouldn't go over too well. "…was he doing the deduction thing?"

Sherlock narrowed his gaze. "Deduction thing? - No, he wasn't doing the Deduction thing."

The two men stared at each other.

"I was just asking, what with you and Mycroft doing it."

Sherlock narrowed his gaze at his flat-mate. "Mycroft cheats."

John's brows rose to his hairline. "What? – How?"

Sherlock silently turned back to the view, ignoring the question. He really had no chose in the matter because he still couldn't figure out how Mycroft did it, but he had to cheat, he just had too, there was no other explanation, because Sherlock Holmes was unique. – Well, at least he liked to think so.

"So what do we do now?" John asked.

Sherlock met the question with a smirk. "Whatever you want John." He announced with an air of flirtation in his voice that made John highly nervous.

The doctor shifted forward in his seat. "I – I'm sure y-your step-mother will be waiting for us."

Sherlock chuckled. "Relax John, we have had this discussion before and we both know where the other stands… right?"

John nodded his head.

"Well then, you need not fear be jumping your bones at the first opportunity. – As for my step-mother…" he groaned. "…I would like to avoid that confrontation as long as possible."

"But if we stay up here too long they might think we're…." John swallowed. "You know."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "That is rather the point John. – Mycroft had informed them that we are together; it would save us a lot of trouble if we allowed them to believe whatever they wished. – People minds always turn to the gut at the first opportunity. – and if we arrive back too soon we will have to convince my family more publicly of our connection."

"Publicly?" John turned scarlet.

"Yes John. And going by the horrified face you're pulling and the alarming shade of red creeping up your neck, I surmise that you would rather not have to undergo any form of PDA."

"PDA?"

"Public Displays of Affection, John."

Watson groaned. "I know what PDA is Sherlock, I'm just surprised you do, surely it's one of those terms that should have been deleted from your hard drive. I can't see how it would come in useful." The shorter man goaded.

~SHERLOCK~

The men strolled into the large family room almost thirty minutes later to find they were no longer alone. It seemed that while they hid out in Sherlock's room hoping to avoid the inquisition, other members of the family had arrived. John walked in a few steps behind his flat-mate still admiring the grand house. When Sherlock stopped without warning John, not concentrating, plowed right into him.

"Sherlock." He complained, looking up at him. Sherlock's face was pale, paler than usual, as if he's seen a ghost, or John surmised, the mysterious ex. John turned his attention to the new arrivals.

In the large room stood two women and three men, all well-dressed society types that automatically made John uncomfortable. He was just an ordinary middle-class boy after all. He took in the appearance of each of the arrivals and not for the first time wished that he had Sherlock's skill for deduction, it would most certainly make figuring out which of these had Sherlock shifting his lanky, towering form.

John continued to watch Sherlock as they were approached merrily by a young woman with bright red hair and a six month old positioned on her hip.

"Sherlock, about time you showed your face." She grinned affectionately.

"Anna." The detective smiled, seemingly relaxing at the warm welcome.

"I'm so glad you came, it always so awfully dull when you're not around." She winked at him. "I can't wait to find out what the Hamilton's have been up too." She giggled like a naughty school girl and John couldn't hold back the smile.

"Oh, this must be your boyfriend. Mother was telling me…" she turned her bright, curious grin on Watson, holding out her hand. "… I'm Anna, Sherlock's step-sister, if we wait for Sherlock to do the introductions we'll be here forever, he never was one to understand the correct way to behave…" she laughed, shaking John hand. "…Which of course is why he's so much fun to have around."

"I wouldn't exactly class it as fun." John joked easily, ignoring the glare he got from Holmes.

Holmes of course, being Holmes hated to be ignored and decided to shoot a warning shot across his friends bow. – Or tank in John's case. "That is not what you say when I keep you up all night." Sherlock smirked knowingly.

John flushed and looked between Anna and Sherlock. He wanted to correct the obvious assumption that he could see forming in Anna's mind but he knew that he was supposed to be Sherlock's 'partner' so simply kicked Sherlock's shin and clenched his jaw.

Anna just giggled and thrust her little boy, going by the colour of his all-in-one sleep suit, towards Sherlock, who instant and forcefully shook his head. Anna merely tilted her head and raised a brow. "He won't bite Sherlock."

"I do not hold babies. Give him to John if you must force the child on someone." Sherlock folded his arms.

Anna, seeing an unwinnable battle held the child to John, who reluctantly too it. Thank heavens for medical school or he'd never know how to deal with children. Holding the little boy safely in his arms, he couldn't stop himself from examining its wellbeing. Much as Sherlock did upon meeting someone, John's automatically examined began to examine the little boy who was merrily staring up at John with confusion. John smiled back, deeming the child health, happy and whole.

"Oh, look at you two…" another female voice announced. "…loves young dream?"

The three, and a half, turned to acknowledge the approach of another woman around the same age as John, and a man a few years either way of Sherlock. From the way Sherlock shifted his stance and lifted his chin, John deduced that this young man was the 'Mysterious Ex'.

Sherlock hadn't told John anything about his family or his past for good reason. It was the past. When John had brought up the subject of relationships he'd stated his go-to line 'I'm married to my work' it had always served him well before. When the invitation had arrived he'd never even considered attending. He'd avoided the Holmes family gatherings for three years with the express aim of avoiding this exact moment. – Or more precisely this exact person.

Though Sherlock was completely over his… relationship, if you could call it that, with Jacob Harvelle, he was well aware that the man had a way of making Sherlock completely forget that he was a genius. He was only grateful that he had John as backup on this one. After all, as long as the family and most importantly Jacob thought he was in a relationship, there would be not attempts at reconciliation.

"Jacob…" Sherlock nodded in greeting. "…Susan."

"Hello Sherly." Jacob smiled softly, looking the detective up and down like he was a Christmas present he couldn't wait to unwrap.

"I have told you before Jacob, I would prefer if you would address me by my properly given name."

"Sorry." He held up his hand in surrender. "I forgot." Though the look in his green eyes told all three men that he hadn't.

"Aren't you becoming all respectable Sherlock?" Susan announced with false mirth.

Sherlock glared at her as if she was his arch nemesis, and she met that glare with one of her own. "How is the married boss, Susan?"

She narrowed her gaze at him.

"He'll never leave his wife you know. – Of course you know, that's why you've put on three pounds in the last two months." Sherlock announced with great flare.

John watched the scene unfold, the child still held in his arms. He looked from Susan to Sherlock, Sherlock to Jacob before finally settling a questioning gaze on Anna. She grinned, rolled her eyes and cleared her throat.

"Susan, Sherlock, play nice. We don't want John wishing he's stayed at home." She psychically stepped between the new arrivals and Sherlock. "John, this is my sister Susan and our cousin Jacob." John held out his hand to each as they were introduced. "…guys, this is Sherlock boyfriend John."

John shifted under the weight of their scrutiny, or maybe it was under the weight of his new title. Swallowing hard he forced his friendly doctor smile in place and greeted them. His gaze shifting to Holmes every now and then as an awkward tension filled the room. Finally it was broken by Jacob who decided at least from John's point of view, to test the waters.

"So you're a doctor I understand?" Jacob asked with a patronizing tone.

"Yes."

"GP?" he said like the word left a repulsive taste on his tongue.

John lifted his chin and straightened his back; he was yet again facing an enemy. "Yes."

"John used to be an army doctor before he was wounded in action." Sherlock informed the group in a strange tone that had John's head snapping around to stare at him.

"Really. – Military." Jacob hummed. "Interesting. – I never took you for the tough guy type Sherlock."

"Clearly." John shot back with a forced in his voice that surprised both himself and Sherlock. "Things change."

Jacob observed the steel in Johns gaze and instantly rose to the challenge. The two men watched each other, sizing the other up. John had already come to a conclusion about Jacob. He'd met men like him in the army. He slightly reminded John of another of Sherlock's acquaintances, Sebastian, from the Blind Banker case. It was that upper-class twit syndrome that came with a public school education and the belief that you could get whatever you wanted. God, John hated that.

Many would probably think Sherlock was like that, but they'd be wrong. Sherlock didn't expected people to look up to him, he expected them to acknowledge his genius but he didn't want their adoration, he didn't give a shit if they liked him or not. He didn't care about having friends or lovers, the work came first, to the point it made him completely oblivious to the thoughts and feeling of others, which drove John crazy at times. But every now and then Sherlock dropped his guard and John saw that he wasn't the complete heartless, soulless automaton that he appeared. Now was one of those moments.

"Am I interrupting something?" Announced a familiar voice that cut through the tension like a scalpel. The group turned to see Mycroft stood in the doorway, his weight resting on his ever present umbrella and an unsettling smile on his face that told all and sundry that he was not to be trifled with. "John. Sherlock, so glad you were able to join us."

"You gave us little choice Mycroft." Sherlock snapped, his normal manner returning quickly.

"Tosh, I sent the car, not an armed escort."

John smirked, never before feeling so glad to see Mycroft Holmes.

A/N: Glad your liking the story.

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