I never thought I would write a Kid!Fic. But I got excited about this one. This whole idea is Duochanfan's fault, but the fic is also dedicated to her because she is not feeling well and I wanted to write something to cheer her up. :) So here you are, I hope you enjoy it!

I hope you all enjoy this, Reviews/Comments welcome!

I do not own Sherlock, I am just having fun with the characters for a while. :)

After the Hounds of Baskerville, as John dubbed it in his blog, things get both better and worse. Better because Sherlock seems a little more mellow, whether it's from mostly getting out of his nicotine addiction or if it's just because of the events of the case no one is quite sure. Still, it's been weeks and there hasn't been an interesting case. Which usually drives Sherlock up a wall. Unfortunately he has something else that has caught his attention, and that is where the worse comes in.

The detective has been buried in an experiment for the last week and it's something that is starting to concern John. "Eat." The doctor demands as he puts a plate down next to Sherlock which has two pieces of jam on toast on it. He's holding a cup of tea in his own hand which he sips at, watching the profile of the other man. A horrible thought crosses his mind as he looks down at his tea for a moment, then back at the detective. "Tell me your experiment has nothing to do with the gas we were exposed to at Baskerville."

"Of course not, John. I wouldn't expose us to those compounds again." Sherlock says in a dismissive tone which calls John an idiot without saying so many words. "The individual compounds are much more interesting." He says casually as he focuses the microscope, but he does use one hand to pick up some toast and eat it slowly, the other writing down notes in his small notebook, before he changes slides.

Pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment, John closes his eyes. "Bloody hell, Sherlock, are you trying to kill us?" He demands, frowning as he drops his hand to glare at the detective. But he's distracted when there's two quick buzzes at the front door.

"Lestrade." The two say in unison, making John look up in surprise and laugh softly, even if he does walk over to the window to confirm his thoughts. It's clear Mrs. Hudson is going to answer the door so John returns to the kitchen. "This does not look safe, Sherlock." He says in a firm tone, moving a few of the beakers out of the way so that they're farther from Sherlock's meager meal.

Unfortunately, in the way that Sherlock often does, he reaches out blindly for another piece of toast, hitting John's hand and knocking them both into the beakers which crash open, mixing random chemicals which splash onto both of their skin.

~oOo~

Not having spoken to either John or Sherlock since seeing them at Dartmoor, Lestrade has decided to check up on them, having a minor case that Sherlock is sure to solve in an instant but it gives him a good reason to be there. So he hits the buzzer and waits, knowing full well it will probably be the landlady that opens the door rather than either John or Sherlock, not that he minds since she's a nice lady.

"Oh! Detective Inspector, so good to see you! The boys haven't had a case since they got back, and heaven knows what is going on in that kitchen, Sherlock's got some sort of experiment going, it just doesn't look safe to me. Of course, nothing does when it comes to Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson says with a little laugh. "But they're both up there, you can go right up." She reassures, patting the younger man's arm gently with a little smile.

Just as Lestrade is about to reply, smiling at the fondness that the landlady has for her two younger charges, there is a muffled explosion, like a cherry bomb going off. That snaps both of their attention upwards, and Lestrade is immediately turning toward the stairs, taking them two at a time. He hears something odd before he sees what happened, there being a cloud of smoke in the kitchen.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock, what happened?!" John demands, coughing and waving a hand in front of his face. Which is when he notices two different things. One, his sleeves are about a foot too long for his arms now, and also his voice is octaves higher than it should be. In fact, he sounds like he did before he hit puberty, and that is when he looks down at himself, realizing with shock that while he may have the mind of a 40 year old man, he now appears to be roughly 10 years old. "SHERLOCK!" He nearly screeches after a moment.

Sherlock for his part, is picking himself up off the floor with difficulty, tangled in his suit jacket, tie and shirt, his normal baritone voice higher as well as he looks over at John. "Fascinating. It appears that some combination of these chemicals has caused us to become physical younger, though we appear to have maintained our mental faculties." His normal analytical tone sounding odd coming from a child's voice. Once he gets his gangly legs under him, he walks over to where John is, measuring their heights and looking down at himself. "Odd. I appear to be around 12, while you appear to be younger." He says as he pulls his sleeves back to free his hands, reaching out to touch John's blonde hair.

Lestrade is in complete shock as he stares at the two children in front of him, jaw dropped as he stares at them, before he shakes his head for a few moments. "Bloody hell.." he mutters softly, scrubbing a hand over his face. "This.. how am I going to explain this.." he mutters softly as he covers his eyes with his hand.

Mrs. Hudson peeks around Lestrade and she stares as well. "Oh, Sherlock.. what have you done?" She says in an affectionate, scolding tone as she walks over to them. "We need to get you some proper clothes, look at you!" She says as she walks over to reach out and remove the tie from around Sherlock's neck, helping John separate his jumper from his t-shirt so he's not dragged down by both of them. "Sherlock, where is your phone dear, I imagine your brother might know where some of your old clothes are, I think I might have some from my son that would fit both of you, they're downstairs. Inspector Lestrade, why don't you look after them for a few minutes, I'll bring something back." She says with an affectionate ruffle of Sherlock's hair.

"I am going to bloody well kill you, Sherlock. Where is my bloody gun?!" John demands after he is just in his t-shirt, which is still way too big for him now. He actually strikes a rather amusing picture, glaring up at the taller boy, still stocky even at this age, with a rounder face of course, all of his former wrinkles gone.

Sighing and crossing his arms over his chest somewhat petulantly, Sherlock watches John. "Oh, relax, John. It's not as if this is irreversible. Worst case scenario, we've just gained a second life. Imagine everything we could accomplish, John!" He says excitedly, grabbing John's arms and giving him a little shake, there being a slightly manic light in his eyes.

"Alright, boys..." Lestrade says, awkwardly catching John before he can do anything to hurt Sherlock, lifting him bodily. "Come on, you two." he says as he walks to the living room and sits John down on one end of the couch, then he motions to Sherlock. "Sit." he says as he points to the other end of the couch, with him sitting on the coffee table looking at the two. "Sherlock is right, this isn't the end of the world." He says as he looks between them. "But it's important that we learn as much as possible. I think we need to take you to a doctor, get your ages confirmed, make sure there's no detrimental effects. We'll get you whatever else you need and we'll call Mycroft-" When Sherlock starts to object, he holds up a hand sharply to stop the objection. "No. We are calling Mycroft, we may need help with some legal documents. For now, I can just say that I found you somewhere, on a case or something. Mrs. Hudson can officially take you into her care, but we need to explain what happened to your older selves.. holiday in America maybe?" he asks as he looks between the two.

Crossing his arms over his chest and absolutely not pouting, even if he really is, Sherlock looks away from Lestrade, angry that they have to contact his brother, knowing that it will be one more thing that Mycroft can lord over him and it frustrates him to no end.

Always the more sensible of the two, John sighs and nods. "I understand." He says as he looks at Lestrade. "A big case in America, tell people that. We can still be contacted via email or text, but say something about our mobile plans not working very well, so we're limited to text or email only." he says as he looks at the older man before he gets upon his hands and knees on the crouch, crawling over to sit beside Sherlock, reaching out and taking his hand casually. "It's fine, Sherlock. It's all fine." He decides, now that he's calmed down. "We'll find out what happened, and reverse it. Or if we can't, then at least we'll go through this together. I mean, we won't be alone, we'll have each other and go through it together." he says awkwardly, blushing as he looks away from Sherlock, but he doesn't let go of his hand.

Looking over at the now younger boy, which he has more trouble wrapping his mind around than anything, Sherlock considers their situation and everything it entails. He finds himself less in control of his emotions than he normally is, and while that frustrates him, it also makes him feel protective of his friend, so he drops his hand and wraps both arms around the younger boy's shoulders. "You're right, John. We'll get through this one way or another. I'll fix it." he says with confidence he's not sure he can follow up on.

Watching this interaction, Lestrade just smiles a little, since he's always felt a bit fatherly toward Sherlock, though John is more of a good mate than anything else. "That's the spirit." He says with a nod of his head. "Come on, you both need to get cleaned up before Mrs. Hudson brings back those clothes." He says as he gets up and walks toward their bathroom, getting their shampoos and such down from the high shelf they keep them on so the boys can get to it. He looks around, making sure that towels are available, looking to the door and seeing the two standing there, hand in hand. "I imagine you boys can take it from here." He says awkwardly before he steps out, not sure if they want to shower together or apart, but he figures that they can figure it out on their own.

"You go first." John says as he hops up to sit on the toilet. "I'll wait, in case Mrs. Hudson brings back clothes. You have to wash your hair." he says as he indicates the mop of curls on the other boy's head, still feeling a little depressed overall.

Making sure the door is closed, Sherlock leans into the shower to turn it on, before he looks over at John for a moment. "At least we won't have to shave." He says with a little laugh as he puts his hands on John's cheeks for a moment, leaning in to put his forehead against John's. "It'll be ok. I'll have little else to do besides try and find a cure, no one will take me serious as a 12 year old." He notes as he looks into those deep blue eyes of his doctor.

"I suppose it's not that bad. At least I'm not the only one that was affected." John says with a smirk, steam starting to fill the bathroom, and he puts his smaller hands on Sherlock's wrists. "Blimey, you were always skinny, weren't you?" he asks, pulling Sherlock's hands away from his face to spread his arms out a little and look at his small arms. Even if they're not younger mentally, being in younger physical bodies is somehow freeing, being able to push away a lot of the hang-ups that might influence a person as an adult. Which is why John drops Sherlock's arms, then puts his hand on the younger man's waist, feeling his ribs. "Bloody hell, you need to eat." he says in a firm tone, then motions. "Shower's hot." he says as he withdraws his hands.

Submitting himself to the exam, Sherlock smirks a little. "And you need to eat less, you're chubby." he says as he pinches John's cheek, then pokes him in the stomach. Finally, he nods, glancing toward the shower before getting out of his shirt and climbing in.

A few moments later there's a knock at the door and a familiar, "Hoo-hoo." Of Mrs. Hudson, before she opens the door a little. "Oh, there you are, John. Sherlock's in the shower, then, is he?" She asks in a conspiratorial tone, smiling a little. "Here you are, these should be around your size, John, and here's a set for Sherlock. Lestrade is calling Sherlock's brother now, so we should have something better for you soon." She says as she ruffles his hair, then smiles. "I'll just go clean up a bit. Don't worry, I'll be careful, then I'll make you boys some lunch." She says affectionately before she puts the clothes down, then leaves the room.

"Did she bring clothes?" Sherlock calls over the water, not having heard the individual words, just the tone of Mrs. Hudson talking.

"Yes. She's going to clean up very carefully, and then make us lunch." he says as he looks at the clothes, nodding in approval of his own, looking over toward the shower as he impatiently waits for Sherlock to come out.

Without turning off the water, Sherlock opens the shower stall, hair wet and slicked back as he grabs a towel and puts it around himself as he climbs out. "Your turn." he says, not able to see very well since water is still falling into his eyes from his hair.

Sliding down from the toilet, John nods, getting out of the shirt and climbing into the shower, hissing a little at the hot water, but it feels nice so he stays under it longer than necessary maybe before scrubbing himself clean and washing his hair.

Sherlock dries himself off, examining his body for a few moments before he finds what clothes are obviously his since they consist of a button-down shirt, slacks and a suit jacket, which just makes him smirk a little. But he does dress dutifully before rubbing a towel over his hair to get most of the moisture out. Therefore, besides the sound of the water stopping, he doesn't see John get out of the shower, only feels a nudge on his shoulder for him to move out of the way a bit.

When he finally has his hair somewhat dry, Sherlock pulls the towel away from his head. "John." he says quite seriously, glad he's caught the man before he puts on his shirt. "Wait." he says as he reaches out, putting his hand on the shirt, before he takes John by the shoulders and turns him, frowning a little. "It's just as I thought, this is going to get complicated. It seems that most if not all of our physical markings, scars, things like that, are still there." he says as he points to John's shoulder where the scar from the bullet wound is still there, though a bit smaller and appearing less severe. But more importantly, his RAMC tattoo is still on his arm. "I understand that you're not a pediatrician, John, but it might be best for you to do our examinations. Most of the basic principles are the same, we can have Lestrade bring a blood sample from each of us to Molly, and she can make sure that there are no harmful pathogens." he says with a firm nod of his head, leaning over to examine the tattoo which looks freshly inked instead of slightly faded.

Looking at the scar and then his tattoo, John nods a little with a small sigh. "Yeah, that's going to be complicated if anyone sees. The scar I could probably think of a way to explain, but not the tattoo." He sighs a little, before he pulls his t-shirt on, and then the jumper on over that, adjusting the clothes before he gets up onto the toilet to reach the medicine cabinet, grabbing his comb and Sherlock's brush to hold it out to the detective.

Once they are presentable, Sherlock takes John's hand again, staying a little ahead of the smaller boy as he leads them back out into the main room, feeling strangely vulnerable and a touch nervous about facing Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade. Surprisingly, the kitchen has been relatively cleaned up and Mrs. Hudson is just bringing a tray over to the living room where a spot has been cleaned off on the coffee table.

There is tea and sandwiches on the tray, and Mrs. Hudson smiles at the two. "Oh, there you are.. don't you look so much better.." She says approvingly with a nod of her head. "Sit down you two, you both need something in those bellies of yours." She says in a firm tone as she points at the food.

John nods a little, and tugs Sherlock over to the couch, making their tea the way they each like it before he puts a plate with sandwiches on it on the brunette's lap, hopping up onto the couch beside him and tugging over the plate a bit so they can share off of it. Whatever it is that happened has torn down a few of the walls between the two men, making John more comfortable, and Sherlock able to open up a little more. So far, at least. Then again, it may just be the shock of everything.

Lestrade watches them carefully and then shakes his head. "This is going to take some getting used to." He admits, snagging a sandwich off the tray with a bit of a grin before he glances at Mrs. Hudson. "Mycroft is sending a car for them. I'll be going with them. You don't happen to have any shoes or jackets for them, do you?" he asks as he looks at the bare feet of the two.

"Hm. I just might have some jackets, I know I have some socks, but I'm afraid I might not have any shoes, I'm sorry..." Mrs. Hudson fusses as she looks at the two, before she says, "Let me go check."S he says with a firm nod of her head, disappearing downstairs again.

Looking over at John for a few moments as he eats, Sherlock then looks back at Lestrade. "We don't need shoes. I'm sure Anthea will have something for us, we'll only be going a few steps to the car. We'll need to locate our phones and keys." He says, looking over at his Belstaff where it's hanging up, giving a little, longing sigh.

Not being able to help himself, John starts giggling as he sees what Sherlock is doing. "Guess you can't flap around in that bloody coat of yours anymore." he says with another little giggle, finishing eating and then finishing his tea. He finally slips off the couch, putting the plate in Sherlock's lap. "Finish that." he says as he points to the other half of a sandwich. "I'll find our phones." He says as he starts to look around, finding Sherlock's clothes and digging around until he finds his phone, notebook and pen, then he wanders about until he finds his own pants and grabs his phone out of it. "Found them." he announces as he holds them up.

By the time that John gets back with the phones, Sherlock has finished the food, feeling stuffed. Mrs. Hudson comes back in time to give them jackets and socks before there's a honk from down below. "That's the car. Go down, Lestrade, we'll follow shortly." he says as he wiggles into his socks and slips on his jacket, putting his phone into one of the pockets, before he waits for John. "Don't let anything that Mycroft says get to you, John. Just remember how much better of a person you are than him." He says in a firm tone as he watches the blonde, making sure they have keys to the flat as well as their phones before he takes John's hand again and heads downstairs, taking the keys from John in order to lock up since he's the taller of the two before he climbs into the back of the car, noting the conspicuous absence of Anthea. Though it's probably a good thing that as few people as possible know about what's happened.

"Cars always made me more sleepy as a kid for some reason.." John says after they are in and are heading off toward their destination. He takes a deep breath and sighs a little, tipping his head over onto Sherlock's shoulder, deciding that since the detective is responsible for what's happened, he can suffer the consequences.

Sherlock nods a little as he watches John. "If we are being brought to the house, then you have some time to rest, John." He reassures, squeezing his hand before he relaxes back in the seat, allowing himself to be used as a pillow as he attempts to go to his Mind Palace.

For his part, Lestrade just watches the two, finding them both quite endearing like this, and interesting that they are more comfortable expressing their friendship, though if he's not mistaken, it seems like Sherlock is being a little more protective of his doctor than he usually is. Lifting a hand, he ruffles Sherlock's hair affectionately before he smiles.

"Go on, you two. Get some sleep. Your young bodies need it."