Disclaimer: Sherlock beings to their rightful owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Note: I haven't uploaded any stories (not including one shots) in a long time, possibly years so I am a little rusty on my storytelling.

Beta: Ancestral Romance


Chapter 1: The Meeting

There are moments in life you can never forget, be them good or bad, they stick out in your mind; forever imprinting themselves onto your psyche. Life is made up of these moments, they can be small or large, a big deal or a tiny crisis in your own mind. They can be mass tragedies or private inner epiphanies; but they all are moments nonetheless and that is what makes life worth living.

These moments are linked together by a series of boring, monotonous days that hardly anyone pays attention to because we are all too busy focusing on the life changing moments. Like a baby getting ready to come into this world, or trying to make that promotion happen. Or getting that one person you think is crazy attractive to be yours.

But sometimes the moments that mean the most are the smallest of happenings that leave such an impact on your mind, you can barely begin to fathom how they happened, let alone why it means so much.

And it was a moment such as that that brought Sherlock and John together.

And it just might also be the thing to tear them apart.

"Hey! That's mine!" A short little boy holding a toy gun shouted as he ran up to the tree. He was small for his age with ruddy cheeks and scabs all over his body from playing. He was no older than eight, with dirty blonde hair and brown eyes.

"Then you shouldn't leave it lying about in a public park." The other boy responded coolly, one eyebrow raised as he examined the toy gun. He looked to be about the same age as the other boy, although slightly taller and slimmer. His hair was dark and curly and even though the London weather was warm; he wore a coat over his lightweight shirt and trousers.

"Don't tell me what to do-give it back!"

"I think not." The taller boy eyed him, taking in his red face, sweat soaked hair and newly bruised knees. "Besides, don't you have some friends to get back to? Surely you wont miss this."

"You can't just take what isn't yours, you know."


"Yeah. There's this thing called asking. Maybe you've heard of it?"

"What a silly notion." The taller boy sneered. "To ask for something that was simply lying abandoned on the ground. If you didn't see me, you would have never known."

"Who are you?"

The boy smirked, one side of his mouth curled up in amusement. "Holmes. Sherlock Holmes." He spoke with such arrogance immediately the shorter boy wanted to punch him in the face.

"Right. Well hello Holmes, Sherlock Holmes. I'd like my gun back now, thanks." And he held out his hand, palm up.

Sherlock frowned. "Aren't you going to introduce yourself?"

The boy rolled his eyes dramatically and sighed. "John Watson. Gun now please."

Sherlock smirked and tucked the toy gun into the waistband of his trousers. "Well nice to meet you John Watson. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some investigating to do." And then he turned and walked down the path, further into the woods.

John stared disbelievingly at the retreating figure. Did that just happen? Did that strange boy really just take his toy gun? It took only a few seconds before he was running after Sherlock, little feet pounding angrily. "Sherlock! Give it back!"

"If you're coming be quiet!" Sherlock hissed over his shoulder as he took an abrupt turn to the left, leaping over the intertwined tree trunks.

"Where are you going with my gun?"John followed, breathing hard.

"To catch a baddie of course!"


"Bad guy, evil doer, villain, criminal. Need I say more?" Sherlock stopped and crouched down behind some shrubs, his voice a whisper. Even though he ran all the way, he hardly broke a sweat, the only giveaway being his labored breathing. "Get down John!" He hissed.

Almost immediately John dropped to the grass, his toy gun still clutched in his hands as he tried to regain his breath.

Stealthily, Sherlock peered around the shrubs, his eyes darting around. "Just as I thought." He mumbled to himself and slid back beside John. Without saying anything Sherlock pulled his mobile phone out of his jacket pocket and quickly texted someone before motioning for them to leave the way they came.

At the last moment he pulled John's toy gun out and threw it, hard over the pile of shrubs. Immediately they heard someone groan then collapse.

"What was that?" John asked, his voice quivering.

Sherlock ignored him in favor of texting someone then sighed, irritated that he now had to explain what happened moments ago. "The baddie. Obviously." He rolled his eyes and huffed while tucking his mobile back into his coat pocket.

John scowled at the conceitedness and opened his mouth to say something just as Sherlock walked away, back behind the shrubs and kicked the unknown man. Coolly he walked back to John, toy gun neatly tucked back away in his trouser waistband. "Well don't just stand there. We should get back to the park before the coppers arrive." Sherlock stated as he calmly strolled towards the path, John a few steps behind him.

"Did you just kill someone?" He asked nervously as he kept glancing over his shoulder terrified to see someone following them.

"Of course not."

"Then what happened?!" John ran up to match Sherlock's strides, which was difficult over the tangled tree roots.

Sherlock sighed and paused in his strides, his ears perking up at something while John went on ahead, eager to get out of the wooded area and back to the park.

"I don't know who you are or what you just did but I want no part of it." He muttered to himself and turned around to shout something. But what he saw made all the blood rush out of his face and his body freeze. While he made it onto the path, Sherlock was still standing in the woods and the unknown man was now holding Sherlock in a death grip.

He was a tall man, dirty with blood dripping down the side of his head. He looked a bit dazed but angry; and his hand was wrapped around the back of Sherlock's skinny throat, slowly strangling him.

"Sherlock!" John yelped, gaining the man's attention.

Sherlock opened one eye and stared at John in panic.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Without thinking John drew his toy gun, still loaded with toy bullets and fired at the man's face.

It did nothing but irritate him further; he squeezed Sherlock tighter, cutting off his air supply as he stumbled towards John, intending to grab him as well.

Panicking, John threw his gun at the man's eye. It hit spot on, forcing him to shout and drop Sherlock and cover his eye, when he pulled his hands away they were soaked in tears.

Still coughing, Sherlock grabbed John's gun and staggered to his feet. "Run!" He croaked and started to stumble. "Run to the park!"

John didn't think twice and obeyed, his feet moving as quickly as possible with Sherlock at his heels. He didn't even stop when he reached the park; he kept going until he was at the fountain then slumped down on the ground, leaning his back against the cool base of the fountain.

"Well that didn't go to plan." Sherlock mumbled as he sat on the fountain base to catch his breath.

"Wha?" John looked up at him, mouth open breathing heavy, legs draw up and arms stretched out over his knees. "What plan?"

Sherlock shook his head and tossed the toy gun he picked up off of the ground down at John. "Managed to grab it."

"Yes well...what about him?" He glanced nervously over at the path that led to the woods while his fingers nervously tapped the toy gun.

"Don't worry about him. He will be arrested in three minutes or so." A stranger's voice spoke from in front of them.

John looked up to see a teenage boy standing there staring at Sherlock, one hand tucked into his pant pocket. He looked like an older version of Sherlock with the same snide face and curled lip; but his hair was neater and complexion less fair. "Brother. I see you've made a friend." He glanced down at John just as Sherlock stood up.

"Mycroft. So glad Mother sent you."

"You worry her. You say you're off to the park then text saying to send a constable." Mycroft sighed. "And here we thought you were actually going to play with the other kids." He glanced back at John. "Don't tell me you've gotten him in trouble already."

John stood up and tucked his toy gun the waistband of his trousers like he saw Sherlock do and frowned. "What's going on? Who is he?"

"My brother. Mycroft." Sherlock stated with distaste.

John nodded at Mycroft and studied Sherlock. There were bruises forming on his neck from where he was strangled but his breathing was normal and he wasn't bleeding. "You alright?" He asked, surprised by his own concern.

"Well, John. You have been surprisingly helpful." Sherlock mumbled and glanced over his shoulder at his older brother waiting.

John nodded and looked around, uncomfortable by the weird friendship he felt for this strange boy. There wasn't any reason for him to feel this way; Sherlock stole his toy gun, got him involved in some sort of vigilante justice and all around, wasn't a nice guy. And yet he still wanted to be friends with him. "It was...fun."

At that, Sherlock looked up a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." John laughed. "It's not every day someone steals my toys, and then runs into the woods to catch a baddie." He grinned and looked over his shoulder, searching for his mother. He found her sitting with the other mothers chat on a bench."I'd invite you home for tea but it looks like your brother isn't going to say yes."

For a moment Sherlock looked disappointed but he then nodded and glanced at Mycroft who impatiently checked his mobile phone. "Yeah. It's alright."

John shrugged and fiddled with his toy gun. "Same time tomorrow?"

At that Sherlock's head snapped up, surprise evident on his face. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah...unless you're not coming?"

"No-no, yeah same time tomorrow."

And so, it was the beginning of the friendship of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.


Hello everyone, long time no story. Anyways, please leave a review, its how I know you like the story and want it to continue.