Mummy Holmes, like any female Holmes, was a well to do woman who focussed on her hobbies and social connections. She spent a lot of her time working in the background of charities and doing other philanthropic activities. With her bright mind and advanced strategic skills she is an asset to whoever she chooses to lend her talents to. She didn't always work for these type of businesses and in fact spent time working her way up from a secretary to something much more. These days she works on a casual basis when the mood strikes her, as she has since having children.

She feels as though her boys are her greatest achievement, not that she tells them in as many words. It's the sort of thing they should just know. It has always been that to be too soft on a child spoils them and even though they are now adults the rule stays the same.

Her sons are blessed with many of the family traits but their minds really are in a class of their own. However, this shouldn't get them out of contacting their mother once in a while, something she constantly reminds them whenever she is able to actually get through to them. They always seen to be so busy.

"Sherlock, Dear, you've finally decided to answer that phone of yours"

"Mother" he greets in a patient tone but she knows he is rolling his eyes, unseen. Nasty habit of his.

"I rang you last week but you didn't return my calls"

"I was in Dartmoor. For a case" he enunciated carefully. Was he hinting at the fact that last time they'd been in contact she'd mentioned that he should be working more?

"Mycroft said he'd been able to speak with you"

"Mycroft?" he barked, sounding betrayed and also surprised at the fact she knew this information. When he began to talk again it was as though he was having a hard time admitting to something. "He, he was. He assisted me. A little. I had to speak with him"

"I'm happy to hear it. It always upsets me when you two bicker or ignore each other, makes it look as though I didn't raise you properly"

There are some loud banging noises in the background. "Mummy, I'm actually quite busy at the moment, does this have a point?"

"I'm wondering when you're going to see your mother next? I'm free next week"

"I'm afraid that-"

She changes tact "-when am I going to meet this Watkins fellow, anyway? I'm so glad you've made a friend, I wish you'd tell me more about him"

"Watson, his name is John Watson" there are male voices in the background. He covers the phone and says something to them that she can't pick up. "Call again in a month, I don't have time now"

"That's what you said last conversation, do you take me for a fool?"

It went on like this for another minute until he said there was a policeman trying to get him off the phone and to a murder scene. At least he was doing something productive.

"Goodbye then, Sherlock. Call me soon"

"Yes" he responded simply but he never would. The dial tone buzz was instant and grating.

After placing the handset on the receiver the vibrant lady picked it back up and called her eldest.

"Hello, Mrs. Holmes, it's Anthea, how can I help you?"

"Is my son there, Dear? I need to speak with him. I hope you're well"

"I'll just see if he's available" she replied in a confident tone.

A full minute later a harried male voice comes over the line. "Mummy, I'm quite tied up at the moment. I told you to call my mobile if you need me"

"It's not as though you're keeping the Prime Minister waiting-"

"-actually-"

"-your brother won't come and see me, I want you to change his mind"

Mycroft wasn't quick enough to prevent a frustrated tut from leaving his lips followed by a loud exhale. "With all due respect isn't this something you can sort out with him yourself if it has to be done today?" he then began to backtrack a little "I just mean that we've had another situation with the London Mayor this afternoon and Sherlock has been taking up rather a lot-"

"-I've tried, he won't listen to me. He listens to you"

"Not always and every time he does it's a small miracle". A light rustle over the phone line indicated he was rubbing at his brow and hairline, a nervous habit he'd picked up from his father that seemed to come out most often when he was speaking with his mother. When he speaks again it's in his usual tone, he'd obviously got himself in check. "I'll see what I can do"

She smiles in victory. "Thank you, Mycroft, that wasn't hard, was it? Say goodbye to Anthea for me, I do hope she is looking after you"

"As ever. Goodbye for now"

Mummy Holmes places the phone down with a small click and goes over to the window to look out over the sweeping gardens. The afternoon sun is highlighting the begonias in the greenhouse as she thinks about her sons and where they are today.

A/N: The next instalment will be how Lestrade met Sherlock. Thanks for reading, feedback is appreciated :)