“Mycroft!” The tones of the younger bellowed from his bedroom. “Come play with me!”
“Sherlock, I can’t come and play with you. I’m working.” The elder huffed through gritted teeth.
“Mycroft!” Sherlock burst into the room. The door ricocheted off a meticulously neat stack of textbooks, causing them to cascade across the floor. Mycroft growled. He looked up to shout at his brother. Then he stopped.
“What are you wearing?”
“I’m a pirate, Mycroft. And you’re my hostage!”
“Oh really, Captain Holmes?” Mycroft smiled. He folded his arms in an act of defiance; his nose stuck into the air. “How do you plan on making me comply?”
Sherlock frowned in thought. He gasped, “You can share my treasure, My.” He whipped his blunted dagger out, pointing it at his brother’s throat. “Or ‘tis the plank for thee.”
“I would much rather become a member in your crew, my brother.” Mycroft said, extending a diplomatic hand for Sherlock to take. “You and I, sailing the high seas. It will be an adventure.” Mycroft looked at Sherlock, slicing into the younger’s thoughts. “Our final quest before I go to university.”
“Hmm.” Sherlock gnawed on his bottom lip. “Okay.” He stretched out a sticky hand to help guide Mycroft across the schoolbook stepping stones.
Mycroft often warmly reflects these times with his swashbuckling brother.