Billy by InSilva

Disclaimer: did not create any of these characters.

A/N: a missing scene from "His Last Vow". Hope you enjoy.

Billy stood stock still and blinked.

"You want me to…"

"Come home with me for Christmas."

"And you want me to…"

"Drug my parents, my brother and John's wife. Knock them out for twenty minutes."

Impossible to keep the impatience out of his voice even if he'd wanted to. He'd said all this once.

Billy nodded slowly. Good. It seemed to have gone in this time.

"His missus is up the duff, though, right?"

"Yes." It had been the one facet that he himself hadn't been comfortable with: administering powerful chemicals to Mary and his family didn't bother him in the slightest. "You'll need to be precise with the dosage. Don't want to-"

"Hurt the little one," Billy finished. He sucked his teeth thoughtfully and then added, "I'll need their measurements. So I can calculate."

"Here." He handed over a list. He'd accessed Mary's health visitor records and had done his best with the difficult equation of Mycroft-exercise+Christmasfood. "There may be a slight variance but these should be within acceptable parameters."

Billy scanned the figures and nodded again.

"A simultaneous experience," Sherlock went on, handing over a bundle of notes for supplies that disappeared like butter on hot toast. "But Mycroft needs to wake up first."

"No problem." Billy tapped the side of his nose. "They don't call me "Billy 'The Wig' Wiggins" for nothing."

"Billy, they wouldn't call you that if you paid them," he said with absolute confidence.

"So…" Billy scratched his face. "So what are you going to do while they're asleep?"

Make sure Mary and John wouldn't have to spend the rest of their lives in thrall. Whatever it took. The whatever resonated all the way deep down inside him and sing-song madness lilted through his head.

Tut-tut, Sherlock, are you thinking about what I think you're thinking about? I think you are… You naughty boy…

He slammed the door firmly shut on it.

"On a need to know basis, Billy," he said briskly and as Billy opened his mouth again, he quickly clarified, "you do not need to know."

"Fair enough." Billy gave an accepting shrug. "I'll go and talk to my suppliers."

"Good."

Conversation over, he was turning away when Billy shifted from one foot to the other and suddenly said:

"Is this because I was right the other day about the girl with the raincoat and the rabbit?"

"Chinchilla," he corrected automatically. He frowned. "What?"

"Is it like a reward?"

The frown deepened. Billy seemed like he wanted an answer.

"Yes?" he ventured.

Billy flushed. "I won't let you down, Shezza. Mr Holmes."

A smile flickered on to his face and off again.

"Please don't. It would be devastatingly inconvenient if this doesn't work."

There were so many factors that could lead to disaster; getting this wrong would mean this considered gamble was over before it was begun.

"Have a little faith," Billy counselled. "It'll all be alright."

Or it really, really wouldn't.

Christmas

The parents were nice, the house was nice and Mycroft, the brother who had a bad smell under his nose, was alright. As Christmases went, this wasn't bad at all even with the drive out here which had been mostly full of silence: no one had wanted to play "I spy" and he'd given up in the end and stared out the window at the countryside.

Spiking the glasses of punch was easy: he kept an eye on the clock and timed the hit for 2.10pm as he'd been told. Same with the nice cup of tea for Mary. The brother was sitting down and just sprawled forward on to the table. Mrs Holmes was on her feet and kind of staggered back but he caught her and carefully dropped her down on to a chair. He heard a soft "Well done, Billy" from behind him that was surely not just about catching the old girl and he felt pride wash over him.

After the helicopter had been and gone, he checked on Mary and Mr Holmes Snr and then made himself a cuppa.

"Enjoy the peace and quiet because all hell will break loose when they wake."

Yeah. He could imagine. Right now, though, it was all calm and silent like the Christmas carol said. He stood at the kitchen sink, took a big sip of tea and waited for the shouting to start.