Sherlock One shots and Imagines

By any other name - Part 2 - Mycroft x Sherlock x John x Reader

"The files that you requested are on your desk, sir." The new secretary advised nervously, as Mycroft made his way back into the office. The older Holmes merely making his way past her to open the inner door.

"Earl Grey." He demanded, as he closed the ingress behind him. Taking off his coat before making his way to the desk. The files looking up at him, as he took a seat.

All the way back to Westminster, Mycroft had been able to think of nothing but (Y/n) and the boy with her. About the things that she had said, and not said. About the way that her son had looked. How he had looked strangely familiar. And there had also been something in the back of his mind which had been niggling at him. A memory that he wasn't sure was even real. A recollection of the night that (Y/n) had left him. When he hadn't been able to drag himself away from his important work long enough to listen to what the woman that he had claimed to love, had to say when she had told him that they had to speak. When he hadn't noticed that she had made her way to the bedroom, packed a few belongings in a small bag and disappeared. Mycroft not noticing that she had gone until after he had woken the next morning. After he had found himself slumped over his desk once again. After he had sleepily made his way to the bedroom, to find that she wasn't slumbering peacefully. The few belongings that he had allowed her to bring into his home, gone. The only thing left, a diamond ring on the pillow. Now though, if his beliefs were right, then after all these years, he now knew why she had wanted to speak to him.

Hesitantly, Mycroft opened the top file. (Y/n)'s name looking up at him. She had gone on to do amazing things once she had left him. She had become a trauma surgeon. One of the best in her field. Saving more lives than he could ever have imagined. Working for one of the biggest hospitals in San Francisco, more of less since she had arrived in the States all those years ago. She had never married, instead devoting her life to her work and her son. A son whose file he had now opened.

Dante (Y/l/n). A boy that appeared to be so very much like his mother. A boy that had not only been part of the chess and science clubs but had also found time to have a sporty side. A boy that had been top of every class. Mycroft not surprised that Oxford had accepted the exceptional young man into their hallowed halls, given his academic achievements. Yet it was the copy of his birth certificate that really caught the older Holmes' eye. The space where the father's name should be, having been left blank. If his suspicions were right, Mycroft couldn't blame (Y/n) for that. In the end, he had been quite awful to her. He had ignored her. Thought himself above her like he did everyone else. So, if he hadn't been any kind of partner to her, then he most certainly wouldn't have been a real father to her son. To..........to their son? It obvious even from the quick meeting, that (Y/n) had raised her son well. And that not having a father in his life, didn't appear to have had a detrimental effect on the boy. Yet the information in the files could only tell him so much. He needed to see (Y/n) and her son again. To speak with both of them in a better place than the bustling streets of the capital. And then it came to him. Something that (Y/n) had mentioned. Something that was making a small smile pull at the corners of his lips. Now, all he had to do was go and speak to a certain someone. Mycroft closing the files and quickly getting back to his feet. The older Holmes placing his coat back around his shoulders and grabbing his umbrella, before throwing open the door and making his way back out of the office. The secretary doing her best not to spill the pot of tea, as her boss just walked past her, without even seeming to register that she was there.

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"A what.............?" John asked in confusion, as he looked up at Mycroft. Sherlock choosing to sit in his chair with his eyes closed.

"A competition, Doctor Watson. I wish you to organise a competition through your blogs. The prize for which will be the chance to come to Baker Street and meet the two of you.............."

"And what makes you think that I would want people coming here. Strangers............." Sherlock finally commented. The consulting detective not liking the idea of having anyone else in his flat. Sure, that it was bad enough when his brother came to call.

"But it won't be a stranger, brother mine. The winner of the competition will be a young man by the name of Dante (Y/l/n). He's (Y/n)'s son..............."

"(Y/n).............?"

"But that's not fair. And whose (Y/n)...............?" John commented, as he looked up at his friend that had just jumped to his feet.

"No one said that the competition had to be fair, Doctor. I have no care about whether it's fair or not. The young man is a fan of your blogs, of Sherlock's work. And I wish to give him the chance to meet the two of you. And yes Sherlock, (Y/n). The young man, Dante is her son......................"

"Son..........? How.............?"

"If he is the son of a friend, why don't we just invite him and his mother........" John interrupted, Sherlock again. The doctor sure that he had never been more confused.

"Yes Sherlock, son. And despite your inexperience in that area, I am sure that even you know how the mechanics of how (Y/n) might have had a child, would work. And I wish the visit to appear as if it were by chance. I am sure that (Y/n) wouldn't allow it, if I were to just invite the two of them here. Therefore, I would like you to place the details of one of Sherlock's cases in your blog. A case that isn't known. Whoever can solve the case with only the details given, will come here, with a guest, and meet the two of you................"

"Are you sure that this.........Dante, will be able to solve it............?" John asked, as he looked between the two brothers.

"If my suspicions are correct, Doctor Watson, he will have no problem in solving it. And even if he can't, he's still going to win. Now, if you don't mind, I have things that I really must be doing." Mycroft explained. Giving John a nod before making for the door.

"Mycroft...............!"

"Yes, Sherlock?" Mycroft replied, as he turned back to look at his brother.

"The boy...........is he...................?"

"That is what I am bringing him here to find out, Sherlock." Mycroft continued. Nodding at his younger brother, before he breezed out of the flat.

"Okay, Sherlock. What the hell's going on................?"