Author's Note: Hey guys! Thanks for the kind words last chapter. Since you pretty much unanimously wanted to see it, this chapter is asking Sherlock. I mean, it's a good follow up to the previous chapter! I think it turned out well but I am always worried when I write for Sherlock himself. So… yeah. I'm posting a bit early because I'm coming down from a migraine and that means I want to sleep for an eternity. Please read, review, and enjoy.

Disclaimer: Clearly I don't own Sherlock. The show is the baby of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss, while Sherlock Holmes itself is the creation of Arthur Conan Doyle.

The First Time He Asked Sherlock to be Godfather

The stairs at Baker Street were slowly becoming Anthea's least favourite stairs to climb during her pregnancy. She didn't know if they were steeper than typical pairs or maybe there were more of them but she was starting to hate climbing them. She walked up them now with Mycroft quietly and patiently walking up behind her, umbrella in hand.

"You didn't have to come with me, my dear." Mycroft reminded her for the millionth time since they got in the car to come here. He spoke in a soft voice to stop any of the residences of the house from hearing him. Staring forward Anthea smirked.

"Yes I did." She replied. She had to make sure Mycroft actually asked Sherlock the question or at least some sort of understanding was established between the two brothers. She didn't care how smart they were, this had to be said and not just assumed by all parties.

Anthea sighed as she reached the top of the stairs. She put her hand against the wall and took a deep breath. Mycroft sniffed a silent laughed as he slipped past her. The door into 221B was open. Mycroft used the handle of the umbrella to knock twice before waltzing in like he owned the place. That smugness, it was especially attractive right now.

Sherlock popped around from the hallway.

"Hello?" He sounded surprised and apprehensive. Anthea followed Mycroft into the flat. "Both of you?" Sherlock asked, his eyes wide. "Am I to assume I've done something wrong then?" Anthea smirked and Mycroft rolled his eyes at her.

"No, brother mine," Mycroft sighed in exasperation. "I am hurt that you still think so lowly of me that the only time I'd bring company to visit you is when I'm disappointed in you."

"Calm down, Mycroft, I'm teasing." Sherlock spoke down to his brother. Mycroft's lips twitched into a smile for a split second.

"And what is it you think I am doing then, hmm?" They looked at each other, both with the same naughty spark in their eyes. Anthea, used to all this, walked over to the couch. She moved a stuffed bunny to one side of the couch and put the farm animal picture book on the coffee table before sitting down. Baker Street was always littered with toys these days. Children's toys, case notes, and take out containers. So while it had changed it was essentially still the same place.

"I'm not really here." Anthea said as she sat down on the couch. She looked at the bunny again and smiled. She remembered seeing it in John and Mary's house. She wondered if Mary and John had bought it of it had been a gift. Not that it mattered right now. Anthea took out her phone and began busying herself with some work. "I'll be over here working." She said. After staring at her for a second Sherlock's head snapped to Mycroft.

"You dragged her here for no reason?" He sounded accusatory. Anthea looked up from just above her phone screen to see Mycroft switch his hold on his umbrella from one hand to the other.

"She dragged herself here, actually." Mycroft hummed as he corrected his little brother. "I couldn't convince her to stay at the office."

"Oh." Sherlock sung in a low voice. "Then either I have done something wrong or you have done something wrong again."

"Oh for Heaven's sake, Sherlock!" Mycroft scoffed, quietening his brother as quickly as possible.

"That, or she's trying to prevent you from doing something wrong." Sherlock continued.

"Look," Mycroft's breath was short and his word full of frustration. "Can't we sit down and have a nice conversation?"

"Of course." Sherlock gestured for Mycroft to sit down in John's chair. "I'm not annoyed you're here, brother dear, I'm just trying to work out where the rub is." Mycroft sat down in the chair with a small grunt. He held his umbrella with his right hand and was already twisting into the carpet.

"That'll come on its own, brother mine, give it time." He said. Sherlock looked over to Anthea who was secretly watching them. She gave him a lopsided smile and shrugged her shoulders, not giving anything away. Still not satisfied but obviously agreeing to wait, Sherlock sat down in his chair.

The attempts of small talk between the brothers was terrifying. One would ask a question and the other would answer in the smallest amount of words possible. Neither of them were known for their ability to make casual conversation, and bless them for trying with each other, but it could easily be up there with stilted awkward conversations with relatives you never saw and didn't like but had to talk to at family gatherings

The small talk extended for far too long for what these two men would normally consider polite for them. It became increasingly away to Anthea that Mycroft was coming up with things to talk about for the sake of not asking the question and perhaps feel something. So Anthea put her hands, phone included, down in her lap and stared at Mycroft. He made a point of ignoring her.

"Mycroft." She finally said. He looked over at her like he didn't know what she was thinking. She said nothing only looked at him poignantly. He sniffed and waved his hand in her direction.

"Yes, yes, alright." He reproached. "I thought you weren't really here." He reminded her. Anthea tilted her head to the side.

"Consider this a phone call." She said, crinkling her nose. Sherlock looked amused and actually quite happy as he watched this interaction. As Mycroft turned back to his brother he caught the look on his face. Mycroft tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, questioning his brother's expression. Sherlock shook his head once and instantly Mycroft didn't care to ask further. Mycroft tapped his umbrella between his feet.

"As you understand with what you experienced through John and Mary, there are rather a lot of decisions to be made before a child is born." Mycroft began. Sherlock nodded, following along. "And despite what the outcome may be, I have decided to be involved in these decisions."

"We knew you'd regret it if you didn't." Sherlock added. Mycroft gave him another look and Sherlock's mouth shut. It was curious but Anthea wasn't going to question it in the middle of this conversation. It might give Mycroft a reason to stop.

"Well…" Mycroft began again, his eyebrows jumped up and down during the pause between words. "Anthea's chosen recently to explore and decide upon godparents." Sherlock nodded again. Mycroft twisted his umbrella into the carpet. As he did he watched the handle. Anthea watched the brothers from the couch. "The choices were Anthea's Jamie," Mycroft said. Sherlock took a small inhale as his eyes flashed with recognition and he nodded a few times in approval.

"Obviously." He said.

"And you." Mycroft finished his sentences. The expression on his face was gentle as he looked at his little brother. Sherlock's expression was blank with maybe just a hint of surprise given off by the positioning of his eyebrows. After a moment he closed his mouth and moved his head to scrutinise Mycroft. Another moment and his eyebrows furrowed. He turned to Anthea and pointed at her.

"Was this your idea?" He asked. Mycroft sneered. Anthea smiled and shook her head. No, she had nothing to do with this.

"We had one each, brother mine. Do I look like I'd pick James' wife?" Mycroft disparagingly said. Sherlock did that thing Anthea had seen multiple times. That thing where he seemed to be looking at nothing in particular because he was in his own mind trying to work something out away from the world. Mycroft rolled his eyes at Anthea and tapped the umbrella on the floor. Anthea sniffed a laugh, trying not to be too loud. She was supposed to be invisible. Eventually Sherlock turned back to his brother. He looked at him, took a breath, went to speak, stopped, moved his head again, and then began to speak.

"I understand that we are trying to repair wounds in our relationship, Mycroft." He frowned. "And I appreciate the effort both of us have been putting into this but…" He winced and took another breath. "You don't have to give me responsibility with your child because of that."

"Come now, Sherlock." Mycroft huffed. "I do not to such things out of a need of love of affection and I'm offended that you made such a suggestion." Mycroft put both hands on top of the umbrella and used it as something to lean on as he leaned forward. "Sherlock, I would have picked you long before this."

"Really?" Sherlock asked in disbelief, his head jerking back. Mycroft nodded quietly.

"I've seen you with Rosamund, a child you have no biological obligation to, and I know that you will argue that John and Mary are family to you, but imagine you with a child who is your blood. And I knew you would never hold any of the ill will you have or had towards me against your niece or nephew." Mycroft's words were soft and gentle. Anthea could picture teenaged Mycroft using that tone to soothe his little brother when he was scared.

The room fell to silence once more. Sherlock was in his head again, thinking, going over those words and trying to work out if there was a hidden meaning there. Mycroft leaned back in the chair once more, blowing air through his lips. He took his pocket watch out and checked the time then glanced over to Anthea. She very faintly shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. Mycroft put his watch away and continued to wait for Sherlock.

"I don't have all day, Sherlock." Mycroft eventually exclaimed. Sherlock snapped out of his mind immediately. "Do you want the role or not?" Sherlock frowned.

"Of course I do." He spoke harshly and fast. "I would have done it without officially being asked to do it. I would have done it even if someone else was chosen." As he finished the harshness fell away and there was something very sweet in his sky blue eyes.

"That's exactly what I thought, and precisely why I told Anthea that I didn't need to ask you in a hurry." He looked over at Anthea like it was an accusation. But she was looking smug herself. Hearing the words said today, the question absolutely had to be asked out loud. Mycroft lifted the umbrella up and looked at the tip. "I know you'll be there even if I can't be." He couldn't look at Sherlock right now, that's why the tip of the umbrella was so interesting. Sherlock's mouth twitched into a smile. His fingers dug into the handle of his chair.

"I doubt it will come to that." He said. Mycroft kept watching his umbrella as he put the tip back on the floor. "But thank you."

Silence fell. It drew on for a good few minutes and yet Anthea dared not interrupt.

"Yes, well," Mycroft sighed. "The responsibility does you well." He folded one leg over the other. "It's about time you learnt the world doesn't revolve around you."

"Me?" Sherlock widened his eyes. "What about you? You can cause a traffic jam just because you're feeling a little moody. Your ego is enormous."

"But people don't dote on me the way they dote on you." Mycroft smiled sarcastically. "Everyone wants to protect poor little Sherlock."

"Including big, all seeing, brother on the power trip?" Sherlock added. Anthea rolled her eyes.

"You're both as special and as bad as each other." She said. They both looked at her, Sherlock annoyed and Mycroft offended. "Neither of you can leave a nice moment as a nice moment and drop it there." The brothers looked at each other. Mycroft lifted his nose and Sherlock folded his arms.

"It's called debriefing, dear." Mycroft said.

"There's years of this to get over. I thought we did well." Sherlock added.

"Its progress," Anthea nodded. She agreed. In fact she completely agreed and it was lovely to see, "But can't we just end the conversation on a really nice note instead of turning it into another one of your conversations?" It appeared that she got through to the brothers. Sherlock was looking at the floor and Mycroft was watching Anthea.

Mycroft pulled himself up out of John's chair. He walked over and offered Anthea a hand to help her up which she gladly took.

"On that note, I think we should indeed leave it at that, brother." Mycroft said, still holding Anthea's hand. Sherlock took a breath then stood up. He pulled his jacket down to neaten it.

"Right." He said. "There's a country that needs running." He smirked. "Goodbye Mycroft, Anthea."

"Sherlock." Mycroft bid farewell.

"Bye." Anthea said. They began walking to the door, Mycroft falling in line behind Anthea so he could follow her down the stairs.

"And, uh, thank you." Sherlock said. Mycroft stopped and turned to look over his shoulder.

"And you." Mycroft answered. Mycroft and Anthea began walking down the stairs, exiting 221B.

Author's Note: So? So? So? Okay? Ugh, I hope so. Thanks to our guest reviewers; Madalina, Guests x2, and AbleFoxAlpha. Thanks to all my reviewers, I love you dearly! Please let me know how you felt this one went. See you in five days! Oh, and if you read A Social Experiment, I added chapter three a few days ago!