As Sherlock was making his way home, his riding crop (properly cleaned) was hidden inside his jacket. He sneered at the memory of his mistake earlier today, when he had been striding along the street holding the crop in his hand and had became quite the attention of the uncollared subs and even a couple of collared.

He knew that his posture, glares and attitude screamed 'dom'; it was something that he worked so hard at when he was young and tried to change, and later something that always made his doms uneasy when he actually tried to submit. Therefore he wasn't surprised that him holding a riding crop could be perceived as an invitation for further D/s courtship.

Well, of course, shortly after he had realized that, he hid the crop, but it didn't prevent both the pleasant and the unpleasant thoughts.

Now on his way home the thoughts returned. The riding crop. His riding crop. And not 'his' as in 'his tool for hitting others', but quite the opposite. The riding crop was never boring. Even a spanking with it made by a boring mind was never entirely boring for him. And what an interesting mind could do with it! Sherlock, naked, kneeling, head bowed with his eyes looking at the floor and hands back, trembling with anticipation as the black leather tip of the crop slowly caresses his collarbone and then, in an even more torturously slow pace, travels down his chest, approaching his nipple but not touching it and passing it just by so tiny distance that if he disobeyed and moved- STOP! He scolded himself. That's not what he wants. It's certainly, certainly not. Or - a small bitter voice whispers in the back of his head - it's not something you can have, something that comes with too high a price.

Sherlock sighed as he entered his attic apartment. And certainly not because of sentiment. It was his last evening here and the apartment was full of boxes and things ready to be moved to Baker Street. It wouldn't be long before Mycroft's minions arrived to do the job.

Sherlock usually refused any help from his brother, but that would mean that he would have to arrange help with moving somewhere else (boring and time consuming), and the question had caught him unprepared because Mycroft had asked him just when they were discussing the moving being a bit not good, and Sherlock was not used to Mycroft being on his side when something concerned Mummy.

He glanced his possessions and started thinking of what he should do now. All his experiments, books and files were already packed. Even the fridge was empty (not that there would be much food in it even if he wasn't moving). Maybe he could start writing a new post to his blog - but the material containing the results of the experiment for it was also in the boxes somewhere.

So what now? One last action in his flat. A nap in the bed? A long stare from the large glass window overlooking London? Masturbation in the shower? All dull, all ordinary.

As he moved, still in his jacket, he felt familiar pressure inside his chest. One last fantasy then? Something he usually tried to avoid even thinking of and resorted to only in weak moments (after repeated checkings that there were no video cameras installed by Mycroft's minions)? But also something he won't be able to do in the living room now - well, he could wait for his flatmate to go out, but then he would risk becoming so engrossed in his fantasies that he'd be discovered in such a state. And he would not allow to happen. Never. Not even by another sub.

He was in the D/s club just a couple of days ago so he didn't feel the usual need particularly strong, but it was the last night in the flat and since he probably wouldn't be able to do this particular fantasy in the living room again…

Sherlock retrieved the riding crop and took a deep breath as he imagined the circumstances to slowly drift into his fantasy. His dom, sitting in the armchair, waiting for him to return from the morgue. His dom, giving him praise now, because Sherlock was such a good sub all day, starting with waking up his dom with his mouth, taking care of his morning problem, having breakfast together where Sherlock would explain what experiment he was about to do today to find the murderer for Lestrade, and his dom saying how clever Sherlock is, and then Sherlock asking about permission to borrow the riding crop and his dom of course agreeing because he understands the importance of Sherlock's work and asked to keep him updated because he was intrigued by it.

As the scene was nicely set in Sherlock's mind, he set the crop lying across his open palms and slowly moved to the armchair and knelt before it. With his head down, in his mind he offered the riding crop to his dom (in fact put on the chair) and then put his head on dom's thigh (in reality the armchair). His dom slowly starts to stroke his hair and tells him that he deserves a reward and- His mobile phone started ringing.

Sherlock almost grabbed it and threw it against the wall, but then calmed himself down. Engaging in such fantasies was stupid anyway. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Only his works and experiments mattered. Not some desires mother nature decided to send down on him.

Sherlock took the call, put the riding crop into a box, and sat in the armchair. "Hello, Mrs. Hudson." Then he assured her that he would indeed be coming tonight with his things and ended the call. He probably shouldn't have waited to move till the last day he would be able to spend in his apartment, but he'd kind of hoped that his solitary life would be saved somehow. No, the change was really happening. And he would have to find that flatmate. If the thing with John Watson didn't work out, he would have to develop some strategy for finding a proper sub flatmate. Well, maybe he should start thinking about it, because of course it's only a matter of time until John Watson would want to leave, even if he'd agreed now, but it would be nice if he stayed at least a couple of weeks and Sherlock didn't have to worry about finding a new flatmate in that time.

He was lucky to have run into that army doctor today, because he had been postponing looking as much as possible. How does one even look for flatmate? An advertisement? 'A sub, violin playing sociopath is looking for a sub flatmate who won't bother him with his D/s life.' He sighs. If (when) things with John Watson didn't work out, he would have to give it some deep thought. Because if he stayed without a flatmate too long, Mummy would take some radical measures. Like asking Mycroft to find him a flatmate. Oh god.

They'd actually discussed this with Mycroft when they were trying to find a way to persuade Mummy to change her mind about this moving business. They went over various possibilities such as an actually non-existent flatmate, or one of Mycroft's minions (trying to be as non-existent for Sherlock as possible), but in the end they decided against it - Mummy would want to hear a lot about the flatmate and eventually meet him/her and neither of Holmes brothers were particularly good at hiding things from Mummy and lying to her for long. And the consequences of such actions would Not Be Good.

Although Mycroft was with him in his 'no-flatmate' agenda, Sherlock had no illusions about further actions of his brother once the flatmate was found, as such was non-negotiable and he would be responsible for finding one. Mycroft was exceptionally good in situations where he had to make the best from the bad, and Sherlock was sure that he would find someone with qualities suiting himself (which meant quite probably that Sherlock wouldn't approve of them), such as willingly spying on Sherlock in all situations (something he really couldn't connect easily with that army doctor) and forcing him to eat (well, that he could connect very easily with the doctor, because well - doctor, but the doctor would have to learn).

The fingertips of his left hand absentmindedly danced on the armrest of the red chair. He looked at them. The armchair - his 'dom's' armchair, well, actually the armchair of his virtual, non-existent dom. How pathetic. No real dom had actually ever sat in it. He hadn't it back then when he had been inviting his doms home, and when Mycroft came, Sherlock always did his best to occupy it. Just because. (And Mycroft never commented on why Sherlock had two armchairs and always was sitting in what was obviously not his usual one. The fact that he did not comment on that of course didn't mean that he hadn't noticed.)

Should he leave the armchair here? He wouldn't be able to use it for any of his rare, secret fantasies he'd so denied having and longing. On the other hand, his future flatmate might not have armchair of his own - John Watson surely didn't, so it would be illogical not to take it there. It didn't matter if another sub sat in it. Of course it didn't.

Sherlock became so engrossed in his thoughts about moving that he was a little surprised that so much time had passed when the bell rang. Mycroft's minions were here.

He opened the door and a couple of strong men with blank faces came in, reaching for the boxes and taking them away. Sherlock went to the window and pretended to enjoy the view. He briefly wondered how Mycroft picked them - they were smartly dressed and obviously trained and skilled in martial arts. Not really material for moving boxes and furniture. Punishment maybe? Did they screw up some mission recently?

His train of thought was interrupted when his brother came through the open door. Oh God.

"What are you doing here?" he snarled from the window, and he noticed that in one hand Mycroft was holding his umbrella as usual, but in the other one was a small box.

Mycroft slowly came to him, quite prepared for his brother to be angry because of the moving itself and strangers now handling his possessions (and yes, the ever-present fact that Mycroft was a dom and Sherlock was a sub, and furthermore, Mycroft was now in a proper and content relationship).

"Mummy sent you a piece of the cake," said The British Government, and handed him the box.

Sherlock took it and decided to eat it after the conversation was over. He didn't eat anything the whole day (well, probably, he didn't really remember) and it was cake from Mummy. Not only that, she would probably ask about it, but it was delicious as always. Just thinking about her reminded him that he should thank his brother. Instead of that, though, he said: "How difficult for you was it to deliver and not eat it?"

Mycroft grimaced and did his best not to roll his eyes.

Sherlock gave him look ala: Yes, I know that you are fit since HE introduced you to those morning exercises, and also you started fencing again, but reminding you how chubby you were as a small boy and then struggled with the weight after the college is just So Much Fun.

Mycroft returned it with his usual look - torn between wanting Sherlock to grow up and thinking about teasing Sherlock with something.

"How was the visit?" said Sherlock, referring to the visit of Mycroft and his partner at Mummy's that weekend.

Mycroft recalled Saturday and the amount of food Mummy had prepared - for some reason Mummy always prepared about three times more food that was actually necessary, and then forced them to eat it all with the look saying that they were too thin and didn't eat properly at all (which was true only in Sherlock's case). He recalled his sub smiling, because for some reason he always enjoyed these visits very much - how Mycroft was squirming under Mummy's attention and was being reduced from one of the most powerful man and one of the doms with greatest PD in Britain to, well… Mummy's Mycroft. He recalled his mother worrying about Sherlock and not wanting to hear about the fact that Sherlock was better off without a dom. He could certainly share some of that. And then, because he was a Holmes, he said: "Fine."

Mycroft then said slowly, as if approaching the enemy minefield, "Have you started to search for a flatmate?"

Sherlock considered what he should do. Should he tell about his brother about John Watson? His brother was going to know soon anyway. Actually, probably about the whole of John Watson's life through a thorough security check (and Holmes curiosity). On the other hand, he liked to have secrets from Mycroft.

In silence Mycroft pushed: "If you want me to help-"

That did it. "Thank you, but I'm already meeting someone about the flat tomorrow."

There, surprised Mycroft. Sherlock grinned.

"What's his name?" asked Mycroft.

Sherlock stopped grinning. "You can find out, can't you?"

"Of course I can. Yesterday you didn't know yet, so I will have to go through your entire day. Tedious and unnecessary." Mycroft sighed as if Sherlock was being difficult (well, actually he was, but that was his standard behavior so Mycroft did it just for the effect).

"You say 'I', but you mean your minions." Sherlock gestured.

"My employees, yes. But it will be me reading through the resources and seeing the footage of concern. I thought you didn't want me to know more about your life than the necessary means to guarantee your safety." Mycroft planted the idea - because he knew his brother well, and of course there were some actions he wouldn't want Mycroft to know of.

Sherlock remembered himself striding down the street with the riding crop, garnering the attention of other subs. Certainly not something he wanted his brother to watch on CCTV records. He gritted his teeth. "John Watson, army doctor, wounded in action." He paused a moment. "Uncollared."

Mycroft texted the sms, requiring the basic file as soon as possible. He had to make sure that his brother wouldn't move in with a serial killer (a serial killer would probably have this state deduced in the first minute - or later if particularly good - which could result in Sherlock's endangerment - this had already happened, twice).

"Only uncollared or entirely without a dom?" said Mycroft, knowing that the question would be far from appreciated.

Sherlock shrugged.

Now Mycroft rolled his eyes. "You are still filtering the D/s aspects?"

Overwhelming. Bringing unpleasant thoughts. Hurting. "Unimportant."

Mycroft raised his eyebrow.

"It doesn't matter whether he has a dom now or not. Even if he doesn't, he will want one in the future once he recovers. I told him I don't want him to bring his dom to the flat." Sherlock usually used the term 'D/s partner' when having a conversation about doms - with the exception of his brother and when particularly angry. Because with Mycroft, he could allow himself to spit the word hatefully, having no consequences of questions and discussions about doms.

"You seem to have given him a lot of thought." said Mycroft carefully. "Would you like him to move in? I could-"

"NO!" Sherlock raised his voice and glared at his brother. "I don't object to the security check because it's something I know Mummy expects from you, but don't dare to interfere in anything else. No kidnappings to an empty warehouse. Do you understand?" Sherlock stepped closer and tried to intimidate his brother at least a little bit (which of course didn't work, but not because Sherlock was a sub and Mycroft a dom, not because Mycroft was used to intimidating glares every day from the most dangerous and powerful men in the world, but because Sherlock was Mycroft's baby brother and that's how he would always be seen in the first place).

Mycroft nodded. "Of course, no need to." And then, just because he wanted to see his little brother smile, said: "But the offer about Mr. Anderson still stands. There is a nice scary warehouse just outside town. I can arrange for him to be given a ride and left there."

Sherlock shook his head, but smiled.

Mycroft leaned back against the expensive seat of the black car that was giving him the ride back to the office and closed his eyes.

He quite enjoyed being a dom and the power he had. He could have obtained his current position with the opposite D/s gender, but it certainly would have been much, much harder. But it was not that he couldn't have done it, they currently had a sub Prime Minister and some of his colleagues were subs. However, the world would be much more difficult for him.

Mycroft understood why he and his brother had a difficult time finding a way to each other (all right, let's be honest, why Sherlock did). Mycroft wouldn't want to be a sub. And not just because of his work (no matter how much he loved to make other doms squirm under his glare and get them to their knees in PD battles, a small part of him considered getting them to such position as a sub to sound like a nice challenge), but mainly because of the fear of not finding a partner in such case. Of having the same problem as Sherlock did.

Mycroft and Sherlock were much more similar than others might think. They both had the need to observe, analyse and deduce. They both wondered how some people could hold jobs while obviously being idiots. And they both needed to utilize this knowledge somehow. But where Sherlock showed himself off loudly and commented on others being idiots, Mycroft was silent and used the findings in his job to crush the enemy and save the queen.

If Sherlock was a dom, everything would be much easier. Maybe he would still be annoying, but he would have crowds of subs wanting him to dom them (it would probably take a lot of effort to find the one who would be happy about his abrupt leaving for cases and the experiments for the long term relationships, but he would be the king of one night D/s stands - as Mycroft once used to be).

Being a sub didn't go well with the Holmes character. Holmes' were smart, strong and independent. And because of that, generally doms didn't like Holmes' very much. However, where Mycroft could start a PD battle with a dom, reassign them to Alaska or start a war against their country, Sherlock was always in the position of knowing that he needed one of them.

Mycroft knew that Sherlock needed a strong dom; he could never be with a weak one, his sub part wouldn't respect such one enough. But Sherlock had never met a strong dom who would appreciate his deductions (as a matter of fact, not a weak one either). Some of them tolerated them, but they were never really appreciated. He also had the need to point out mistakes of others, which wasn't something the doms took well. Moreover, he didn't respect fields which didn't interest him, which doms took very badly.

Mycroft sighed. He often wondered whether there could be a proper dom for Sherlock. He would probably have to be at least as smart as the Holmes brothers to appreciate what Sherlock did and not be a target for Sherlock's accusations of idiocy (well, that eliminated 99% population), be a strong dom and by some miracle to decide that he wants to be Sherlock's dom. The chances were not high. Well, not that his brother would nowadays give someone a chance to get close anyway. Sherlock avoided doms as much as possible (except the inevitable Yarders).

Mycroft frowned. The best moments he spent with his brother nowadays were when Sherlock forgot about the existence of D/s genders. But that happened on rare occasions. And until Sherlock found a right dom for him, the permanent change in this matter probably wouldn't ever happen. With the chances, as such, probably never then. Holmes' always despised sentiment, but of course there were exceptions. And the exception named Sherlock just made Mycroft sad.

He put those thoughts aside as he slowly made his way to his desk. The thin folder containing the basic info about John Watson was waiting for him at his desk. Did he have a dom? If he didn't, should Mycroft do something? Find him a good dom to inspire Sherlock to start trying again as his mother wants? Or the opposite, not to sadden Sherlock with something he could not have?

As he contemplated that, he sat down and opened the file. As he skimmed through, his eyes widened slightly: D/s gender: Dominant. (And that was really the only physical reaction as he was used to not showing any surprise.)

Was it the right John Watson? Mycroft browsed through the file. Fortunately, it contained the proof of this main meeting Sherlock today - the photos from the hospital hall with John Watson and an acquaintance of Sherlock entering a lab and then a couple minutes later Sherlock leaving the lab.

Was Sherlock lying to him? Was he trying to waste his brother's time? But what would be the point? He could have just said that he met someone and let Mycroft do the useless research if he wanted that, so no.

He checked the timestamps; Sherlock spent less than two and half minutes with the man. More than enough. Then their conversation sprang into Mycroft's mind: You are still filtering the D/s aspects? - Unimportant. Bloody hell. Sherlock didn't notice and had just offered a dom to move with him. Why would a dom agree to move in with a sub? Mycroft skimmed again through the file. John Watson was obviously a kind man with high morale, not someone who would do that, unless… Mycroft's recalled Sherlock's dom-like behaviour he had already gotten used to. So Sherlock considers the doctor a sub and the doctor considers Sherlock a dom.

Mycroft reached for his mobile to text his brother, but then halted. Sherlock would be furious. Not only because he invited a dom to live with him, but more importantly, he didn't notice something.

Options: 1. Tell Sherlock. Sherlock would be furious, Mycroft yelled at and Sherlock discouraged from the next findings. Not Very Good. 2. Somehow prevent for John Watson from coming. That could work, but Sherlock's curiosity would want to know why and that acquaintance that introduced them would spoil it in the end somehow. Mycroft would be yelled at, not only for finding something his brother didn't, but also because he interfered. Even More Not Good. 3. Let John Watson to come tomorrow and Sherlock find out on his own. Sherlock would be still angry and Mycroft possibly yelled at for not telling him. But the main deal of yelling would be aimed at John Watson.

Option three it is.

Again - my greatest thanks to Osprey Emblem for beta-reading! :)

Mmm, who might the person that will be the first dom to sit in that armchair? :)
I hope you enjoyed this behind the scenes of the moving and Mycroft's actual concern. I'm afraid that Mycroft is right and the relationship between the brothers cannot work until Sherlock is in a proper relationship (a looong way there ;)). Also setting up the base for Mycroft's decisions regarding John in the future.

Please leave a comment! :)