"John I am not getting on that thing," Sherlock said. He had been stewing on the train platform for the past couple of minutes as the two looked on at the train.

"Sherlock, it is just a train," John pleaded with the grumpy detective.

"It's not the train I'm upset about," he said practically glaring at the steam beast in front of him. "It's the week long holiday with my brothers."

"Sherlock, you will survive. It's only for one week."

"Yes John, but the house will not survive," Sherlock said as he shook his head.

"Oh ye of little faith," John said as he brought him into a kiss. "Get on the bloody train," John managed to, after a fair bit of cursing, to get Sherlock onto the train and into a compartment without a huge seen being made. John felt that alone was an accomplishment.

"Hello John," said a familiar voice from the doorway.

"James," John said. A huge smile spread across his face, "It's been a while. How are you?"

"Good, good," the blonde double o said as he stepped into the compartment.

"I figure you two know each other?" said the younger man that followed close behind James. He was the spitting image of Sherlock.

"John and James met each other while they were in Afghanistan and John flirted with the idea of entering MI6," Sherlock piped up from where he was sitting. "Please pay attention, Q."

"Nice to see you to Sherlock," Q smirked as he sat across from the detective and his blogger.

Sherlock went back to angrily looking out the window.

"Well this week is going to be interesting," James said remarking on the tension in the room.

"You don't know the half of it," John said. "Greg and I have a bet starting once we set foot in the house. The first person to admit to having a headache buys drinks the next time we go out."

"Count me in," James said as he glared at the two Holmes's they were stuck with for a few hours.

"You won't last a day," John smirked.

"Yeah but I think I will outlast the house."

"True that."

Soon enough the two of them were at it again. At the present time Sherlock was insulting James's taste in alcohol by yelling at Q and Q was insulting John's taste in sweaters. "Yeah like yours are any better," Sherlock nearly spat at Q

"Mine have character," Q murmured under his breath.

"Meaning they are ugly…"

John turned to James with a sigh, "Do you want to see how Greg is getting along?"

"Greg?"

"Greg Lestrade, he's a D. I. and Mycroft's boyfriend," John explained over Sherlock and Q yelling at each other.

"So all of the Holmes kids are gay?" James asked rather bluntly.

"Well… Q has a twin sister that has a long term boyfriend," John said thinking back to a case they had a couple months back.

"Really?"

"Yeah, she won't be at the manor this week because she is deep undercover in Australia for the Americans… just don't ask."

"Hey, I'm used to not asking."

"Aren't we all?" John remarked just before his phone buzzed to show that he had gotten a text, "Greg said that he's already had to take Mycroft's phone and laptop, he's trying to run the world remotely."

"Yeah I took most of Q's stuff, the only think I let him keep was his phone," James sighed as he looked over to the young Quartermaster who had plugged his head phones in and was typing away on his phone. "The only reason I didn't take that was because I think MI-6 would fall apart if he couldn't do anything at all."

"I wish I could find something for Sherlock to get lost in so that he wouldn't deduce everything all the time," by this point Sherlock had given up on trying to act angry and was taking the time to catch up on lost sleep.

"Sedatives…" James offered smirking.

"I've tried, several times, he's very observant."

"I bet."

Mycroft and Greg were about an hour mores' drive from the Holmes Manor when Mycroft finally cracked and started to complain about the whole trip. Well in theory he wasn't complaining about the trip more like his brothers. "The three of us under one roof, we won't last the week without, at least, the kitchen catching on fire."

"Mycroft, I have complete faith in you all's ability to not destroy each other," Greg said as he gave Mycroft's hand a tight, reassuring, squeeze.

"Really?" Mycroft asked with a questioning glance.

"Yeah, not at all."

"Good to know you're not going crazy."