MYCROFT HOLMES was a very important man. He had a tower! And also ALL OF THE BRITISH GOVERMENT UNDER HIS PINKY FINGER
INCLUDING THE QUEEN
AND YOUR MUM OHHHHHHHHHHHH
Basically the only British human beings that weren't under Mycroft's control were (unsurprisingly) his own brother, Sherlock Holmes, and Sherlock's little friend from the army, John Watson.
Curse those idjits and their need to solve murders and be annoying at the same time...
But it was fine - he had their entire flat bugged. UNTIL ONE DAY
"ANTHEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA," Mycroft whined from his "spy on Sherlock" room.
"Yes, Mister Holmes?" Anthea asked, peeking her head into the doorway.
"SHERLOCK DISCOVERED CAMERA NUMBER THIRTY THOUSAND MILLION I NEED A NEW ONE."
"Alright, I'll go to the store and buy one."
"BUT THIS ONE'S IMPORANT IT'S THE THIRD ONE IN THEIR LIVINGROOM I NEED TO SEE."
"But you have two more in the livingroom?"
"YEAH BUT THIS ONE GIVES FULL VEIW OF THE SOFA."
"Ughhhhh okay. How about you go visit Sherlock and John, then? That way you won't miss anything."
"TO TWO-HUNDRED-TWENTY-ONE-BEEEEEEEEEEEE~" Mycroft exclaimed, opening his umbrella and flying out of the room.
AT 221B Mycroft knocked on the door. There was a moment of silence, and then.
"Um...HOLD ON," Sherlock called, and thus began the shuffling. After 30 seconds, Sherlock answered the door, standing at full height - 7 feet. "Mycroft. What brings you here? Lose a camera?" he asked, and John snickered in the background. Mycroft would have made a polite "I'm going to stab u in the face with my umbrella-ella-ella-eh-eh" smile and a backhanded retort, but he was in a world of deductions that, while they weren't as good as Sherlock's, were pretty much 100% accurate.
John's fly was undone - he was in a rush when putting on his clothes - or just absent minded.
Sherlock had bruises on his neck - bite marks.
Neither of them were sitting, but the couch looked recently used...
"BUTTSEX!" Mycroft yelled, and fled in fear.
MEANWHILE AT MORIARTY'S Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran were preparing for the day.
"I'M READY!" Jim called from his room. "SING THE THEMESONG!"
"Whatever you say, boss..." Seb sighed, and began to sing:
"I don't know how you managed to miss every note but you did," Jim informed his henchman.
"I don't sing, boss. Ever."
"That's probably why, then."
"I know you will," Jim winked. "So, how do I look?" he asked, turning around and showing off what he was wearing to Sebastian.
"You're wearing the same Westwood you wear every day, Jim," Seb informed him.
"No way! I was wearing a Charcoal Black Westwood yesterday - today I'm wearing a Midnight Black Westwood. You should really start watching Connie Prince; she knows her colors - OH WAIT SHE'S DEAD LOL!"
"You are insane."
"You're just getting that now?" Jim asked. "Anyway, how do I look?"
"PERFECT! I tried really hard for this look. And when I say that I mean I didn't try at all. Now, where shall we go today?"
“Well, we already killed everyone within a five-mile radius -”
“That was a good day.”
“- It was! So....let's go to the zoo!”
And so they went to the zoo and saw Lions and Tigers and Bears – oh my-CROFT FLYING THROUGH THE SKY
OH OH OHHHH
AND WE'RE NOT EVEN CAMPING!
MYCROFT HOLMES flew through the sky and crashed RIGHT INTO JIM AND SEBASTIAN!
“ASLLASKDFJALSKDFLKAJSDF BUTTSEX THE CONTEXT IS BUTTSEX NOPE NOPE NOPE!”
“Is that Mycroft Holmes?” Sebastian asked.
“It is!” Jim replied.
“From the government?”
“I QUIT THE GOVERMENT MY BABY BROTHER LOST HIS BUTT VIRGINITY – HIS BUTTGINITY”
MORAN: “Dude calm down it's not that bad -”
“TO JOHN WATSON”
“OH. Interesting!” Jim cried. “Where are they?”
“FUCKING!” Mycroft cried.
“No not what are they doing where are they?”
“WHEREVER IT IS THEY'RE PROBABLY FUCKING”
“CALM YO TITS TELL HIM WHERE THE FUCKING MEN ARE!” Seb ordered, touching Mycroft's nose sensually.
“MY TITS WILL NEVER BE CALM!” Mycroft yelled, and his moobs went ballistic.
“Oh jesus christ this is just like that fanfiction I read” Jim cried.
“THE'YRE AT TWO-HUNDRED-TWENTY-ONE-BEEEEEEEEEEEE” Mycroft then announced.
“TO 221BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB~” Jim exclaimed, and he and Sebastian rode off into the mid-day sunset to 221bBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB
AT 221B Sherlock and John were fucking ferociously when SUDDENLY
“OPEN THE FUCK UP THIS IS THE POLICE!” someone outside yelled, causing Sherlock and John to jump a foot in the air and therefore injure their no-no-zones.
“AUGH NOOOO PISSBUCKET” John cried, rolling off the couch, in pain. Sherlock stood up, frustrated, and threw on his shirt, wincing through his pain.
“Wait police don't say fuck” Sherlock pointed up.
“...open the...shit up?”
“MUCH BETTER.” Sherlock decided, threw his pants on and threw John's clothes at the lump under the carpet that was John Watson.
“Hellooooo AW, FUCK,” Sherlock yelled upon seeing Jim Moriarty's face.
“Yes! I heard everything! YOU'RE TOTALLY SHAGGING!” Jim yelled.
“JOHN VATICAN CAMEOS!” Sherlock yelled, and John melted into the floor.
“Did he just...?” Sebastian began.
“How?!” Jim yelled.
“Vatican Cameos, Moriarty. Vatican. Cameos,” Sherlock said dramatically, waving to Jim and Sebastian as he melted into the floor, too.
“Where did they go?” Seb asked.
“I don't know, Seb. I don't know,” Jim yelled- SAID. SAID.
And then Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran exploded.
It was intense