CHAPTER 9. FIRST IMPRESSIONS
John looked around in awe, the house was much bigger on the inside and everything seemed so breakable and expensive. He nervously checked his shoes for dirt afraid to track it in on the nice rugs. "Defiantly should be going." John stammered about to turn around. Sherlock ignored the blond boy and grabbed his wrist pulling him towards the steps. John couldn't help but follow, or be pulled over.
"I want to show you something."
"Sherlock Holmes!" a very stern voice called out John knew that tone, it was a tone a teacher takes with a misbehaving student. The two turned now to come face to face with a fairly thin woman, she wore a black skirt and a red silk top. Her shiny red nails on her hips, she couldn't be very old, except her hair was tied in such a tight bun that John wondered if it would smooth out the wrinkles of anyone's face. "Where have you been!" Sherlock rolled his eyes. "And who is this?" John frowned looking down on his worn out converse, and his jeans had a rip he hadn't noticed, he usually took better care of his clothes. His jeans would have that grass stain forever, but nothing he could do about it now.
"None of your business, Evie or Eva or whatever your name is. I'm busy." John tensed expecting the woman to snap; he guessed she was the nanny.
"Agnes!" she corrected taking a threatening step forward, John broke in quickly offering his hand.
"John Watson ma'am. I'm a friend of Sherlock's. Met him in the park today."
"Did you now?" Her eyes narrowed on the blond kid, she didn't take his offered hand, turning up her nose, eying him as if he were a fly in her soup. Sherlock huffed rolling his eyes impatiently.
"Yes the park. Now if you don't stop harassing John and I, I'll be forced to tell mummy that I was out at the park alone for several hours and you hadn't even noticed till twenty minutes ago. I bet she'd be interested to know about what kept you preoccupied, you and Mr. Gardner."
"You insolent little-"
"I'll have a warm milk and John wants chocolate milk, we'll take our sandwiches in my room. Doesn't matter what kind." John's eyes widened but before he could deny the request or rather demand, his dark haired friend was pulling him up the stairs.
John tried to slowly eat the meaty sandwich but his stomach was so relieved to be appeased that he all but swallowed it in a few bites, nearly forgetting to chew, following it up with on quick swig of chocolate milk. He looked around, realizing he was sitting on an unmade bed in a very messy room, crayons and papers with drawings and painted pictures littered the floor, as well as clothes and several toys that had been dismantled.
Sherlock placed the three books on his unmade bed. John nervously wondered if it had been a good idea to check out those books in his name, surely this kid would lose them in this mess.
"Don't worry John. This gets cleaned up daily. This is just today's musings. The maid will put her nose in here and touch everything, throwing it all into a disorganized mess. It's really the most irritating thing in the world. Next to my older brother. But he never comes in here. He's the most irritating person you'll ever meet."
"Oh. There's two of you?"
"Look." Sherlock ignored the question, pulling a steamer trunk out from next to the twin sized bed with a blue comforter. Sherlock took a key he kept in his pocket to open the very heavy lock. "This is where I'm keeping my latest experiments." John's eyes grew wide at the many Jars of different things, one had a bunch of dead spiders this made him shiver, another had a piece of bread with green fur growing over it.
"That was one I almost forgot about it's the affects of mold on buttered bread." John nodded dumbly.
After the tour of Sherlock's many experiments which John had found all very interesting, he decided for sure this kid was a genius. Sherlock pulled several game boards out from his cluttered closet.
"Sherlock Sylvie says it's dinner time." Mycroft paused in the entrance of his brothers horrifyingly disorganized dwelling. There was someone else with his brother sitting cross-legged playing a game of cluedo.
"I see you have ah-er a guest. I'll let Sylvie know to add another plate."
"Oh, no it's fine. I should be going." John jumped up to his feet a glance outside the window they sat under warned that it was getting late.
"Fine, let Sylvie know." The smaller boy shot to his feet irritably once again ignoring his new friends protests.
"Sherlock-" John started to argue slowly.
"Dare I ask where you found him?" Mycroft straightened his dinner jacket, John realized that the older Holmes brother was wearing a gray suit, and he was ignoring John completely. The older brother was taller than John, taller and bulkier, John guessed him to be 17 or 18 maybe. The way he spoke, made him seem older, and intimidating.
"I met him in the park! Shut it Mycroft you fat ass." John winced, these two didn't seem the swearing type, their speech dripped posh boarding school and edict all that stuff. That and hearing those words from a young mouth just seemed out of place and inappropriate. John caught the anger flare in the bulkier kid, instinctively he took a step in front of the dark haired boy.
"It's true. We had a bit of an interesting day." John cut in with an easy smile, Mycroft narrowed his eyes on the blond. Taking in his appearance, shaking his ginger head he sighed. "Oh Sherlock, dragging another person into your fight-when will you learn to keep your mouth shut and act normal."
"Maybe when you lose weight."
"Doubtful." Mycroft growled.
"I really should-"
"Nonsense John after dinner we can have Robert drop you home." John's stomach growled hungrily, if he went home now he'd go to bed on an empty stomach but dinner couldn't be too bad.
"Thanks." John agreed and Sherlock pushed past his older brother, who had to step to the side of the doors entrance to avoid being knocked over.
"Shut the door behind you will you John. Don't need Mycroft putting his pointy nose in my room."
John weakly gave Mycroft an apologetic glance before closing the door behind him. Mycroft watched the two descending the stairs. He hadn't ever seen his brother excited about anything other than a stupid experiment but he was laughing now, that blond kid had said something and his little brother the spoiled brat laughed.
The teenager sighed heavily, this was another stray, Mummy and Father would never allow it. Although the kid had taken a beating for his little brother. That was always worth something. If Sherlock had turned up damaged in any way mummy would have been inconsolable for weeks. At least this John, had manners of some kind.
The taller Holmes brother unlocked any mystery of the boy easily in a quick glance; he wasn't exactly a Rubix Cube. John's posture and hair cut screamed Army brat, defiantly raised by a single parent, a drunk father maybe, has an older sister who is never home. Not exactly poor just ignored, so middle class, judging by the long sleeved striped shirt the kid wore in the summer, the father was abusive definitely a drunk. Wonderful. Well the faster they feed the stray the faster they could dump him back off where Sherlock picked him up from. He hoped his brother wouldn't become too attached. The last mutt had been dropped at the pound and his brother had thrown such a tantrum. Mycroft was glad his room was on the other side of the house. Still he definitely didn't want a repeat of the puppy incident, it would be taxing on mummy's nerves.
John took a seat at the table he'd been sure to wash up the best he could, self conscious about his dirty shirt, but Sherlock just shrugged and told him not to worry. To his complete and utter relief the only ones at the table for dinner was the three of them. Sherlock frowned briefly and Mycroft took a seat clear at the other end of the long table in a very niece dining room.
"Mummy isn't feeling well Sherlock." Was all the older brother said.
"She seemed fine this morning." He murmured John didn't understand the need to cheer up his new friend, but he asked
"So Sherlock what are you going to do next? Does it have to do with botany?" This made the younger kid's eyes light up and John listened to the easy chatter of an excited six year old about photosynthesis. John had no clue what his new friend was carrying on about but made an attempt to follow. At the end of dinner, Mycroft who had been silently reading his own book the whole time sighed heavily.
"Sherlock I think it's getting late you should allow your prisoner his release. I think he's put up with you enough for the day."
"He's right. I should go."
"Alright I'll go with –"
"You will not Sherlock. Let the poor boy alone. Stop pestering him. You know mummy is going to want to hear you play before she goes to bed. And don't think I haven't noticed that you just pushed your food around." Sherlock scowled at his brother.
"Calm down. Its not like you wont see me again. Besides you should finish eating you only had half sandwich today." John patted his friend's shoulder. Mycroft stood amazed his brother allowed such a sentimental gesture and he'd eaten lunch, very interesting.
"Eating is dull."
"Yeah but you still cant function without food." John could only shrug.
Oh, dear, Mycroft let out an exasperated breath. The blond boy wasn't exactly appropriate company. Although he couldn't be more than a couple years older than the petulant six year old, who stood watching him with such curious eyes. Father would never approve of this friendship. Not because of John's age, more that he had no social standing. There was nothing to benefit being aligned with such an individual. Most people would say friendship wasn't based on such terms. But Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes had been raised differently, father didn't believe in sentiment or nostalgia. Father always stressed the importance of social standing, a man was who his friends were. Even then, Mycroft knew father didn't have friends, for that much neither did Mycroft, only acquaintances, and Sherlock didn't have the social skills to make friends or acquaintances.
Mycroft couldn't understand it himself, but seeing his brother smiling easily, actually smiling caused something in him to wish it could be something his brother could have. A friend, that was too much to hope for, but perhaps this John Watson could be an experiment in social edict. For that reason Mycroft resolved not to inform father just yet.
Not unless their father asked, which Mycroft understood he wouldn't, the Holmes brothers would be lucky to see father anytime before the end of summer holiday. So for now Sherlock could keep the stray, as long as it didn't make a mess in the house.
Maybe this boy John will entertain Sherlock for at the very least another day, anyone who can stay in his brothers presence longer is either an idiot or a saint. Looking at John Watson he wondered which.
"Mycroft. Nice meeting you." The young boy smiled easily, Mycroft didn't get up from his chair, interesting this John Watson.
"Likewise" came the bored reply, he waved Robert forward and the chauffeur started to lead the boy out.
John held back a giggle when Sherlock who made a face as his brother spoke. Maybe summer holidays wouldn't be so bad after all.