Aloysius Holmes smiled down at his family from the head of the table. When Mycroft had mentioned Gregory in his first letter home, Aloysius had hoped that in young Mr Lestrade, Mycroft might have found something special. They had never really talked about Mycroft's sexuality, but it had been fairly obvious from an early age he was gay. Aloysius had given him an outline of the basic mechanics of the act and made it clear that further instruction was available if required. Mycroft was a quick learner, and used his advanced physical development to his advantage. Sadly, despite his intelligence and his size Mycroft had a rather naive outlook on matters of the heart. A lot of the earlier encounters had been with older boys. Most of them had used him for their own pleasure, with little regard for Mycroft. As a result his view of what love and sex were and how the related to each other had become very skewed.

Gregory was different. He was the first boy Mycroft had mentioned by name and the first boy about whom Mycroft had included any details. And the first boy about whom he had consulted Uncle Aloysius for advice. Aloysius was realistic enough to know that telling his nephew to take things slowly was pointless. At that age you wanted everything yesterday and if memory served him correctly you had a near permanent erection that took some getting rid of.

Gregory was a nice boy, of course, if a little uncomfortable with his sexuality in the wider world. And of course there was that unfortunate predilection he seemed to have with rugby players and the larger gentleman in general. Still that did work to Mycroft's advantage as even if he starved himself the poor boy was never going to be small, not with those shoulders. All in all it was rather satisfactory. And they would soon cure Gregory of his embarrassment.

"Did you have a pleasant morning in the village Mycroft?"

"Yes. Yes we did."

"You had sex again didn't you?" Sherlock piped up.

"Do be quiet Sherlock." Mycroft set down his knife and glared at his younger brother. Sherlock smiled and busied himself with his Egg and Soldiers. Mycroft returned to his lunch somewhat half heartedly.

Actually he and Greg had not had sex. After Mycroft had picked Greg up and threw him onto the bed and he'd pulled his bulging erection out of his jeans and divested himself of several layers of clothing something rather strange had happened to him. He'd looked down at Greg, laying there like a fallen angel, looking at him with those dark chocolate eyes. Greg was breathing slowly, his t-shirt pushed up to reveal his lean muscular torso. And then Mycroft had suddenly been hit by a wave of uncertainty which had left him floundering. Greg was talking about love. About falling in love. With him. Mycroft Holmes. Greg had let Mycroft do all those things to him because he loved him. Greg was talking about the future. As if there was one.

It would have been very easy to have taken Greg as he lay there, begging for Mycroft to have him again. But whilst Mycroft didn't understand love, he understood right and wrong. He couldn't possibly take advantage of Greg like this. It was never going to be the same as Uncle Ali and his beloved Teddy, because Mycroft was wrong on the inside. He knew he was wrong because when he tried to think of his parents, who he was told loved him and Sherlock more than anything, he felt nothing. No sadness. No love. Nothing. And it was the same with everyone else.

"Mycroft?" He snapped out of his thoughts as his Uncle spoke.

"Yes Sir?"

"Are you all right?" Aloysius could always tell when something was bothering his eldest nephew. Far more easily, in fact, than his younger brother.

"Yes." The lie was gossamer transparent. Aloysius Holmes raised one silvery eyebrow but said no more. There would be more to come of course, but only when Mycroft was ready.

John and Sherlock were talking excitedly about that morning's discoveries. In addition to various wildlife, they had collected a number of small animal skeletons to add to Sherlock's slightly macabre collection. John Watson was also very enthusiastic about Uncle Teddy, who in addition to having a gun could also climb trees and knew the Latin names of everything. Teddy, Aloysius knew, had always wanted children of his own. They had looked at various options, including adoption for which they had been turned down immediately. Aloysius knew it had been the one sticking point in their relationship. The one thing he couldn't give him. (That had never stopped them trying though!) And then almost as though his wish had been granted, there had been that terrible phone call. And suddenly they had two small boys. They always said you should be careful what you wished for.

Greg was confused. One moment he had been on the bed, fumbling with his belt as Mycroft loomed over him, the next moment Mycroft was doing his jeans back up and saying they should be getting back. Mycroft who was currently pushing his food around his plate with little enthusiasm. Maybe Greg had laid it on a bit thick with the whole "I love you" thing. But Mycroft had seemed okay with it all. To begin with. And now as he tried to swallow his lunch Greg was aware of a horrible lump in his throat. Mycroft had been fantasy made real for Greg. Like someone had granted him his deepest most personal wish. They always said you should be careful what you wished for.

Greg stood in the garden, watching the sun dipping down below the horizon, when he became aware of a figure standing next to him. Teddy Frobisher smiled his dazzling smile in the half light and lit up a cigarette.

"Want one?" He offered the packet to Greg.

"Erm, no thanks."

"Something the matter?"

"No. Not really." Greg sighed.

"Want to talk about it?" There was silence for a moment. "I know we must seem rather ancient to you, but it really wasn't so long ago that Ali and me were eighteen you know? He was rather lovely when he was eighteen, tallest boy in the school and he had this amazing black hair, a bit like young Sherlock's. It used to go all into ringlets if it got wet. Used to drive him mad, that's why he has it cut so short now." Teddy took a long pull on his cigarette.

"Does Mr Holmes... I mean Uncle Aloysius... does he love you?"

"Yes. And I love him. Very much."

"How do you know? How do you know when you really love someone and it's not just the excitement of something new?"

"Greg have you ever had a boyfriend before?"

"No." Greg knew he was blushing. It was hard not to when you were having the most awkward conversation of your life with your boyfriend-not-quite's drop dead gorgeous Uncle-not-quite.

"Girlfriend? Small mammal?"

"No." Greg could feel the tears beginning to prick the back of his eyes. If he started crying that would be his humiliation complete. Teddy Frobisher was going to think he was a sad little idiot, latching on to the first person that showed an interest in him and then crying when the guy got freaked out by it.

"So it was love at first sight with little Mikey then?" Another pull on the cigarette, the tip glowing red, mirroring the glow of the dwindling sun. "I've only ever had the one boyfriend myself. Nothing wrong with that at all. If you get lucky first time, why change?"

"And how did you know?"

"I don't know. I can't remember the exact moment when it changed from being best friends to something else. I do remember I felt very strange on the inside. And of course I was terrified that Ali wasn't going to feel the same way. Actually I was more scared he'd go off with someone taller."

"He just looked at me like I was crazy. Like he didn't understand what I was saying." The tears were running down his cheeks. He just couldn't help it.

"He probably didn't. He's only a kid and he's had some big stuff to deal with. Our family situation is not ideal although we do our best. He went through puberty when he was nine, just after his parents died, and he has one of the highest IQs ever recorded. There's only two other people in the same percentile. Have a guess which two. Everyone looks at that young man and expects him to be an adult. Very few forgive him when he acts like the scared little boy he actually is. Give him some time. He really likes you. He's never asked anyone else to come and stay. You're the first." Teddy put a comforting arm around Greg's shoulders and Greg leant into the shorter man's stocky frame, being comforted by a bone crushing hug and squashed against Teddy's soft belly. "I think it will all work out fine Greg. Now I wonder what Mrs Hudson is cooking for dinner?"

Inside, in the study, away from prying eyes, Aloysius Holmes had just had an almost identical conversation with Mycroft. Twenty minutes of confusion had flooded out of the poor boy in a stream of consciousness a man of lesser intelligence would have failed to understand. And right at that moment Aloysius Holmes was thanking whatever deity happened to be in charge of such things for making him quite so large. One advantage of his size was that he would always be bigger than his Nephew. Mycroft was sobbing into his Uncle's shoulder about how unfair everything was. Why couldn't he be like everyone else? Why couldn't he be normal?

Aloysius sat Mycroft down on the sofa in the study and gently cradled the boy, just like he had done when he was younger, stroking his hair until Mycroft fell asleep pillowed against his Uncle's bulk. He ran a handkerchief over the boy's face, drying the tears. The pale blue silk rasped against Mycroft's stubble and Aloysius was reminded of how fleeting childhood actually was. And quite how cruel it was that everyone had to grow up.