AN: so heey! I really do apologise for the previous chapter, that was... truly weird. But yeah, if the person who prompted that wants me to do it again I will. But yeah, I am currently on study leave and I get bored very easily so you guys get chapters. Good for you, not so for me.

Anyway, this chapter was prompted by GRock87 and the moment I got it my brain went mad, so it's gonna be great.

We shall review on the beaches, on the landing grounds. And prompt in the fields and on the streets.

We shall never surrender.

Lily

It will not surprise you to find out that childishness runs strong in the Holmes family.

More powerful than Obama, cleverer than Voltaire and even more annoying than James Blunt, Mycroft Holmes can still make his brother pout like a two year old at the mention of a certain fluffy, blue stuffed rabbit. And on more than one occasion the phrases, 'I don't care who started it I'm finishing it!' and 'If you two don't stop it I will turn this car around!' have passed my lips. Needless to say, I had never expected to say those words in a row again since Harry had landed our three year old twin cousins on me when I was still in medical school. But of course all my life expectations fell to shit when I met Sherlock and this was, in no way, an exception to the rule.

To give a little meaning to that entirely random monologue of self pity, I will tell you that in July last year, Mycroft Holmes turned forty. And almost certainly to spite his sociopathic brother, he did not have a huge, what Lestrade had termed 'do' but instead had decided to have an intimate, at-home dinner with close friends and family. Which included Lestrade, Sherlock and, fairly surprisingly, me.

Anyway, it was the first time Lestrade had met Sherlock and Mycroft's parents as Mycroft's boyfriend (but if you call him that he'll hit you) and he'd decided that Sherlock and I constituted moral support so he'd therefore decided to blackmail both of us into going. It wasn't very good blackmail ('Next time both of you get arrested I'm not coming to bail you out, neither will I make the arresting officer drop all charges, no matter how much you swear at me Sherlock.') but after some thought I had decided that what he was proposing was in fact a very real concern and so had resolved to force Sherlock into going.

Which is why, on the afternoon of Mycroft's party, I was sat with my back against Sherlock's door begging him to come with me.

'John, I honestly see no reason why I should wish my brother a happy birthday. It is simply a sign that he has lived thirty years longer than anyone could have wanted him to.' Came the muffled, but miraculously condescending voice that floated out through the door.

I smiled 'Only thirty?' I asked teasingly

'I am given to understand that he was quite cute for the first ten years of his life.' I almost keeled over in shock. That was about the closest I had ever heard Sherlock come to complementing his brother in any way.

I sighed and thumped my head backwards on his door 'Come on Sherlock. Do you know how much time we will spend in police custody if Lestrade carries out his threat?'

'Yes.'

I waited for a while. 'And?' I prompted

'I have come to the conclusion that I don't actually care.'

My head hit the door and I groaned 'Please Sherlock!'

'No John. I absolutely refuse to spend the night in a room full of people who will either giggle and blush every time I open my mouth or try and get me to explain why I'm not doing as well as Mycroft. Either that or my mother will kidnap you and try to get you to admit we're sleeping together.'

I sat bolt upright against the door and blushed 'What?' I squeaked

'She has a bet with my aunt Leona.'

I gaped for a while before saying 'Your mother?'

'Yes.' Then a tutting sound 'Mycroft's got a boyfriend now, and she thinks that I should have one too, so she can get the votes of the homosexual population.' He seemed to interpret my baffled silence as wanting to know more about this weird little statement. 'She's the conservative MP for Barnsley.'

This just provoked more problems in my already tortured mind 'You're from Barnsley?' I said incredulously

I could practically hear him roll his eyes. 'No John. My parents live in Barnsley but as I was sent away to school including all holidays except the summer from the age of five I do not consider that I myself am from Barnsley.'

I shook my head to try and get this new knowledge to sink in a little faster. 'Whatever, are you going to get out of there and come with me or am I going to ring Lestrade and get him to do panicky sobbing down the phone at you like he did to me a minute ago?'

I got my answer a second later when I found myself sprawled on the carpet of Sherlock's bedroom, having apparently fallen through when he opened the door. He strode briskly into the living room, saying

'Of course I'm coming John. It'll be an unmitigated disaster.' He turned and grinned wolfishly at me 'I wouldn't miss it for the world.' Before sweeping out of the flat and banging the door shut behind him.

To be fair he was right. An hour later I was stood in the hall of Mycroft's Kensington flat holding a glass and wondering exactly how a party of nearly five hundred people could possibly be construed as a small intimate dinner.

I was predictably alone as the only two people I knew were Sherlock and Lestrade, both of whom were otherwise occupied, Lestrade having been yoked to Mycroft's side and shown off to various relations and Sherlock by being grabbed by several teenage, French cousins, who wore far more make up than clothes including the boys. No help in either of those places, since Lestrade and Mycroft had now disappeared and I didn't even want to know what they were doing and Sherlock was talking to a French girl in what essentially boiled down to a tutu and a bra, who kept trying to flash her knickers at him as she crossed and uncrossed her legs.

I was considering going and rescuing him, when several yards of pale blue tulle and chestnut curls turned up beside me and boomed 'Ah! Good man! Do you know anything about mating?'

After the initial recovery period I managed to say weakly 'In what context?'

She laughed like a foghorn 'No, no! I'm Violet Holmes, Mycroft's mother.'

Oh gooooooooooooddddd, went my brain

'And you are?' she asked blinking at me owlishly. I remember thinking that she had Sherlock's eyes, and that they leant something really quite pleasant to the rest of her face, like Sherlock, before the remaining quarter of my brain drove that thought out of my head my pitchforks and torches because I DEFINITELY SHOULD NOT BE THINKING THAT...

'Um. John Watson.' I replied somewhat shyly, sticking out a hand. She engulfed it with hers and smiled sunnily at me

'Aaaaah.' She said, winking brightly at me 'The doctor who's made my little Sherlock so happy!'

I blushed quite considerably at the thought that I had made Sherlock hap... wait, what?

'Oh yes!' she continued earnestly 'You know, secretly every mother wants a Doctor in the family, and now I've got one!'

'Sherlock and I aren't...' I started weakly

'Oh no, of course not dear.' She said dismissively 'Not now anyway. But you will. My dear little boy has that effect on people.'

I opened my mouth to begin a feeble attempt at preserving my dignity, when I felt a hand on my shoulder and Sherlock's voice said 'Hello Mother.'

'Hello Sherlock, darling.' Violet said, the cheeriness dropping from her voice to be replaced with a tone that could have frozen flame.

'John and I were just going.' He said after a few seconds of silence.

'Oh really Sherlock, walking out on your own brother's birthday...' she began, glaring at him.

I felt his hand tighten on my shoulder and his jaw tensed 'He suggested it.' He said, turning me round.

We both sauntered casually away, until we were certain that she couldn't see us anymore at which point we both began to run.

By the time we reached the lift we were both laughing.

'Thanks for saving me from your mum.' I giggled, sliding down a wall.

'No problem.' He replied grinning 'Piece of cake.'

AN: haha, another chapter that ran away with me. so anyway reviews are only ever good news. Peace out dudes!