The Assistant Headmaster (Mystrade Fanfic)

Twelve

Mycroft

I pulled up outside Mummy and Father's house. I still scowled at its colour, a bright red that was too obnoxiously bold for my liking. I got out and saw Sherlock, my younger brother, staring down at me from the upstairs window. He smirked down at me, and I stiffened. "Don't do it, you little bastard," I muttered to myself.

He was already away, no doubt running down the stairs. I sprinted to the door, but he'd bet me there. "Let me in you twat!" I shouted through the square window on the door, gripping the door handle.

He shook his head triumphantly. "No. Sorry, Mycroft, dinner has been cancelled. You can fuck off now."

"Sherlock, let him in!" I heard our father call out to him.

"Shame, dickhead!" I said, lifting my middle finger in the most mature way possible.

Sherlock wouldn't budge from the door. I knew I looked a total moron out on the street, dressed in my usual, immaculate suit, swearing at my little brother who refused to let me in. The neighbours were used to it by then, surely. Once he'd locked me out while I was in nothing but bright red pants. Each and every visit was a race to the front door.

A moment later, Father appeared. Despite the fact he was in his mid forties with greying brown hair, he could still lift my feather-weight teenage brother over his shoulder - quite literally. Sherlock looked annoyed; our father wasn't anywhere as intelligent as either of us, but he was still stronger than Sherlock. The boy glowered at me as Father stepped to the side, still carrying Sherlock.

Mummy unlocked the door and let me in, wrapping her arms around me in an overly sentimental embrace. I patted her back gingerly and quickly pulled away. Father put Sherlock down and shook my hand, his grasp wincingly tight.

After the usual tedious greetings, Mummy and Father walked into the kitchen to continue cooking, and Sherlock scowled at me. "Only two months into the job and you already have your eyes on someone," he tutted, shaking his head. "That's not good, Mycroft. Not good at all."

"Sherlock..." I sighed.

"But no," Sherlock continued, "This isn't just anyone, is it? No..." He leaned in closer, his lips curling up into a sneer. "This is a student... A male student, no less."

"Sherlock, I swear if you -"

"I'M TELLING MUMMY!" He ran off at full speed towards the kitchen, and I ran after him.

He was incredibly underweight and I was fit and muscular, but he must've floated like a feather because he was still faster than me. I managed to get to him just as he got to Mummy and Father, who had moved into the sitting room.

"Guess what your favourite son has has been - OOMPH!" Sherlock let out as I tackled him to the ground.

"Mycroft! Get off of him!" Father shouted as Mummy let out a cry. She always was the one to get emotional whenever Sherlock and I fought.

Before I knew it I'd been pulled off of my little brother, and Father held me away from him. "Now tell us what's going on?"

"Mycroft's in-"

I silenced my little brother by putting my hand over his mouth. "He's joking. Sherlock, can I have a word?"

"No."

"For -" I took a deep breath to stop myself from swearing. "Just... Come."

I walked into the hallway, my little brother following.

"Alright. Name your price."

Sherlock smirked. "One hundred quid. A month."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, but you don't tell Mummy or Father my... Predicament."

"Fine," Sherlock said, before turning and going upstairs to his room.

I smirked as I heard his door close, and made my way back into the kitchen. "Everything alright?" Father asked.

"Oh yes. Everything's fine," I smiled. "However, I do have an idea."

If that little shit thought he'd be getting one hundred quid a month for nothing, he was sorely mistaken. Mummy and Father looked at me expectantly, and it took everything in me not to begin cackling evilly.

"I think Sherlock should start attending Baskerville. As you know, we offer the most prestigious courses and facilities, and being under my watch, he can't get into any trouble."

Mummy and Father looked at each other. "We have thought about it," Mummy said. "Though he does seem to prefer his home-based learning."

I gave my parents a condescending smile. "You do realise Sherlock is one step away from going back to his drug dealer, don't you? It would be the best for everyone."

"We'll talk about it later. Now, let's just eat, shall we?"

They called Sherlock downstairs and we sat around the table.

"So, Mycroft," Sherlock waited until we all began eating before starting in an overly-friendly tone, "What's it like working with other... people?"

"Like being in a world full of goldfish," I replied, laughing with Mummy and Father.

"So you've not found yourself a goldfish, perhaps?"

I choked on my food. "What?!" I spluttered, banging on my chest as coughs wracked through it.

"I SAID, HAVE YOU FOUND YOURSELF A GOLDFISH?!" Sherlock shouted at the top of his lungs.

'Oh I am going to kill you,' I thought to myself as I glared at my kid-brother. "No, Sherlock, I haven't. Why, have you?"

Sherlock blushed just slightly and I smiled dryly. "No, I haven't," he murmured. "You of all people know that."

Deciding to ignore him, knowing it'd do nothing but hurt me, I looked to our parents. "Anyway, there's a perfectly nice boy coming into the school next year, John Watson's his name. Good learner, has a rugby scholarship as well. If Sherlock comes to the school I'll be sure to make them roommates."

"I... You... What?!" Sherlock looked up, aghast.

"Oh, you're probably going to start attending Baskerville next year," I said casually.

"Maybe," Mummy scolded. "I know what you're doing, Myc. Stop scaring him."

"Mycroft is the name you gave me, if you can manage it to the end."

Mummy rolled her eyes and continued eating. Sherlock glared at me from the other side of the table, and despite how he tried to hide it, I could see he was upset.

Sherlock ended up coming home with me that night. I ensured that I had maximum security, partly so he couldn't run away and partly so he couldn't strangle me while I slept. I was to take him into work with me the next day to show him around before dropping him off back home at the end of the day.