The Holmes family was very well liked among the small community in the hills. They were generous people, the family living there for many generations. The father and alpha, Siger, and his omega wife, Violet, each held their own degrees of success. Siger, while wealthy from his family heritage, is an expert violinist, traveling throughout the world by invite to play with some of the most talented musicians. Violet, while once a professor at a university, now spends her time between philanthropy, traveling with her husband, and raising her three sons.
The Holmes boys each held their own areas of expertise. The beta eldest, Sherrinford, has a quick mind and a quiet wit, much like his father. With his concentration in business and economics, he has plans to take over the family estate once he is old enough. The middle alpha child, Mycroft, has the intelligence and charisma of his mother. He is diplomatic and polite, though with the slightest bit of a hidden agenda. Despite that, he is always quick to help, though will always return to retrieve his favor. The youngest is Sherlock. Sherlock is a bright and curious child, brilliant and creative. If he does not know something, he finds it out. His personality is honest and charming, without meaning to be, making him sometimes blunt. However, he treats everyone equally, and never judges them on anything other than their worth after getting to know them.
Of the Holmes children, Sherlock is the most rowdy, with a habit of wandering from his nannies when his parents were off traveling the world. In fact, it had gotten to the point that the people of the community knew to call the Holmes house if they caught sight of the young boy wandering.
Today is one of those days.
Six year old Sherlock Holmes wakes up in his room full of crafts and experiments with a bright eyed complexion and a mess of black curls. He shuffles through his room till he gets to his wardrobe, changing quickly into smart day attire and a warm coat. In his backpack, he places a set of house keys that were his mothers, a few snacks, and his retractable telescope. With a nod to himself, satisfied by his appearance and supplies, he exits his room down the still sleeping house and to the foyer. Peaking out the window, he takes in the cool fall, almost winter air, and decides his bike will make it to town without snow and rain.
As he pedals down the hill towards town, the Holmes house slowly begins to wake. They find, to their exasperation, their youngest son to be missing once again. Knowing the boy, they wait until the town's people see him and report back.
Nearing eight thirty, Sherlock parks his bike on the other side of town behind the used bookstore and library called Adeline's, named after the grandmother type woman who had owned the building since before Sherlock's eldest brother was born. As he steps into the store, he breathes in the smell of tea, paper, and ink. The store itself was converted from an old church, with high ceilings and wood rafters. Sunlight lit the room from stain glass windows lining the walls. Rows of overstuffed bookshelves bled onto the piles on the floor. In the middle of the shelves sat a square of soft couches. On one side of the building, a desk ran the width of the room, a door behind leading to the small quarters of Adeline herself. Opposite that ran a ladder that led to a small loft reading and craft area for the children that came in. A narrow set of stairs ran behind the loft for adult use, hidden in the hallway for the restrooms.
This is Sherlock's goal. Hitching his backpack higher on his shoulders, he climbs the ladder, unknowingly catching the eye of Adeline from her chair behind her desk. The older woman laughs while she dials his family to let them know of his location. Sherlock, more so, focuses on unloading his bag upon one of the low tables, reaching on a bookshelf to pick up his pirate adventure from the last time he was here. With a grin, he lays down beside the table, telescope at the ready to watch who enters the bookstore.
It is not until three in the afternoon, when Sherlock had eaten his snacks and built a blanket fort at one of the tables to hide beneath that he saw someone of interest to him. Throughout the day, he had encountered many of the locals, even some children who had come up to play with him for a while. Here, though, a new set of people entered.
The charming woman with strawberry blonde curls and dimples holds a young girl of four in her arms, inheriting the blonde and freckles from her mother. The girl is asleep, resting against her mother's tired bosom. A boy of ten stands next to the two, blonde hair short and spikey, recently presenting a gender of alpha at the age of ten. His eyes are a deep blue and intelligent, if not bored. His physic is muscular for a boy his age, speaking of an active life style and the scars from that speaking of his tendency to take risks.
Sherlock starts behind his telescope as the older boy meets his gaze. People so rarely look up, it is refreshing for someone to notice. As the older boy moves towards the ladder of the loft, his mother and sister move to the desk, speaking quietly with Adeline. Placing his telescope down, he watches the boy begin his ascent.
As he reaches near the top, he slips on a feather left by a little girl's pink boa scarf around lunchtime. Without thinking, Sherlock grasps the other's hand, their eyes meeting as their fingers brush across the other's wrist. The yellow color of childhood from the bands around their wrists change to a dove gray beneath their respective bracelet and watch. Without a thought, their entire world's now focus around the other's as Intendeds.
Pulling the older boy up, the two stare at each other for several long moments, taking in the sight of who their other half is. After minutes, the older boy spoke.
"I'm John Watson," he states, looking unsure. Sherlock tilts his head to the side.
"Sherlock Holmes, though I assume I am now legally Watson with our bond," the six year old answers. "I really thought I was an alpha, but you are mine."
"How did you know I was an alpha?" questions the blonde curiously. Sherlock huffs a laugh at the question.
"Guessed from looking at you, though you just confirmed it. You can tell a lot about a person just by looking at them, you know," Sherlock says, still locking eyes with the other. "Can you tell what I am, given that you are my Intended?"
"Omega, I think," answers John after he sniffs the air a moment, swallowing at the revelation. Male omegas were pretty rare in general. "I can't really smell anything, but I think you are."
"Best not to question instincts," nods Sherlock, his attention going to Adeline as she calls him.
"Sherlock! Your parents called. You have to start home for supper."
Sherlock waves to show he understood, making Adeline nod before going back to her conversation. He looks back at John. "Are you staying long?"
"For a few days, maybe a week, though I might be staying longer now. We were just coming up to visit gram for a little bit," states John, nodding towards the bookstore owner. Sherlock nods, having seen the resemblance as he puts on his coat and backpack after tossing his things inside. "Hold on, it's snowing out. Where's your gloves and things?"
"Is it snowing? There seemed to be no chance this morning," murmurs Sherlock to himself. John huffs, pulling his own dark blue scarf from around his neck, clearly the most expensive thing on him. He threads the soft cashmere blend around Sherlock's neck, making sure to keep the other warm. Sherlock tilts his head at the satisfied look John gives at the scarf before pulling his larger gloves onto Sherlock's hands. "You are awfully satisfied by that."
John looks visibly startled at the words, now looking at the scarf in between disapproval, but satisfaction winning. The ten year old slumps slightly. "Alpha instincts. I need to take care of you. Best not to question instincts."
At the parroting of his words, Sherlock smiles at the older boy, hugging him lightly and leaving down the ladder with a quick "Bye, Johnny."
The ten year old knows he has no chance to protest the name, but somehow he does not think he will mind coming from Sherlock.