My son can't be this cute

Wearing a neat and decent suit, Sherlock propped his cheek with his left hand, and glanced at his elder brother, as well as the tall man, with neat hair, tight mouth, elegant suit, movements and unhurried speech, Total elite.

"My boss has encountered a difficult problem." The man named Harry said, his tone didn't sound like he was asking for help, Sherlock taunted, "Of course, otherwise he wouldn't come to me, a small consultation Detective, and I also know that if I need a lighter you have it with you, even though you don't smoke."

This is really ironic, Watson couldn't help but laugh, well, he has to be serious, this is Buckingham Palace, but when he thought of Sherlock just sitting in Buckingham Palace wrapped in a sheet, he thought that he would treat this in his life No place can generate respect from the heart.

"Sherlock." Mycroft warned in a low voice. The latter pursed his lips and didn't look at him, but he restrained himself a little and didn't say any harsh words for the time being. However, the man named Harry The man was still very surprised when Sherlock said that he knew he had a lighter on him, and that surprise quickly turned into appreciation under the detective's calm expression.

"Well, I think you always have a way, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I appreciate your handling of the case, it's wonderful."

"No, you read John's blog, and his blog usually obscures the light of my deductive method. What you see is just what you want to know." Sherlock said with some disgust. His dissatisfaction with his blog has been around for a long time. Ever since he bolded that part of Sherlock’s ignorance of the heliocentric theory, he wanted to hack his blog all the time. If he hadn’t threatened the other party not to cook anymore Laundry, Watson thought his blog might be over.

"That brings you more popularity, Sherlock, and people get to know you better."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned to look at his military doctor, "Please, John, I'm a detective and I don't need more exposure."

"At least that's more useful than your 240 kinds of soot." Watson retorted. He knew that Sherlock was a child who couldn't accept the fact that he lost to others, but someone had to tell him that he couldn't be willful all the time.

"It's three kinds of 240, and I don't study soot anymore. Perfume is more interesting." Sherlock said blankly, usually this time is when he has reached the limit, and if he continues to be stimulated, he will explode.

"That's boring too, Sherlock." Watson said with a smile, and stopped in time before the former glared at him.

"That's not boring." Sherlock muttered, with a way I like and enjoy it, and you can't understand it because you are all goldfish.

"Although I really don't want to interrupt you, I think there are more important things than the young couple flirting." Mycroft said with a teasing smile, while Harry on the side was a little surprised, because he I have known the former for many years, although he always has a smile on his face, but this person is absolutely clear about public and private, such conniving behavior is really rare, it seems that some rumors are true, for example, Mycroft dotes on his younger brother abnormally , and he has been nourished by love recently, so his temper is very gentle, and he can even be said to be approachable.

Watson blushed a little, opened his mouth and instinctively wanted to explain, but suddenly found that there was nothing to explain, they were already a couple, so he shrugged his shoulders, and continued to listen to them with a blushing face.

"Stop talking nonsense, Mycroft." Sherlock narrowed his eyes, looking impatient.

"Okay." Mycroft didn't mind Sherlock being rude, because he was used to it, and some things really spoke volumes about getting used to such terrible things, such as Sherlock's never-learned, respectful Brother's behavior, and the head of MI[-] just gave up after so many years of fighting to correct Sherlock's politeness to him. After all, Sherlock is not his job now, and he has found a The perfect man took over, and this perfect man, John Watson, shivered, suddenly feeling a little cold.

Mycroft smiled and poured black tea for several people and started to talk about it. There was nothing strange about it. The core meaning was that some photos of the big man had been taken that must not be known by the public.

"This is really boring." Sherlock snorted. He thought that the case Mycroft gave him would be more interesting, such as a serial murder case, a dismemberment case, or something more complicated. Women are never considered by him. As far as they are concerned, they only know perfume and fashion shows.

"This is very important, my dear Xiali." Mycroft took out a document and handed it to the other party, calling Sherlock by his nickname in a sweet voice on purpose.

Sherlock looked at his brother in disgust. Watson took the document and stuffed it into his arms. Then the curly-haired detective reluctantly began to browse the document. Holding his horsewhip, his bright red lips pursed, he looked up at his brother, Watson also stared at Mycroft for a while, removed the black tea from his mouth, and said in a low voice, "I don't know you I have this hobby." After speaking, he pursed his lips, looking as if Lestrade was very fortunate.

"Don't get me wrong, John, I have to clarify that I don't have such a hobby. This woman is the one who holds the photo, Irene Adler." Mycroft twitched his mouth and quickly explained, Sherlock smiled , Only then did I calm down and observe this document with satisfaction.

Watson touched his nose in embarrassment, and silently apologized three times to the Scottish Inspector in his heart. He was sorry for imagining Lestrade wearing suspenders and stockings and Mycroft holding a small leather whip.

Sherlock looked at the photos, and Watson had to admit that they were a bit hot, but he was not tempted. He was already this guy's boyfriend. To show his determination, John Watson straightened his back , while the former glanced at him from the corner of his eye, and the corner of his mouth curled up.

"Well, what does she want?" Sherlock asked slowly, putting down his things and crossing his legs.

"Nothing," said Mycroft flatly, his expression unchanged even as Sherlock stared at him. "I'm not kidding," he added.

"There's got to be some intention," Sherlock muttered.

"If I have to say it, she's just asking for help. In exchange for these photos, we have to keep her safe." Mycroft said, taking a sip of black tea.

Sherlock withdrew his eyes, Watson knew that he was already interested, but obviously, this awkward detective didn't want to see his brother's smug smile, so he directly passed the coat around him and said, "Let's go, John."

Watson hastily put down his teacup, and said goodbye to the two with a smile. After the two left, Harry turned to ask his friend.

"Are they a couple?"

"Obviously." Mycroft said with the corners of his lips curled up, looking at the other party. "But I thought you'd care more about Sherlock accepting it."

"Oh, of course, otherwise you wouldn't let him go away like this, Mike, I understand you." Harry smiled, and the two of them respected each other with black tea.

"However," Harry picked up the documents on the table, and smiled at the man who was leisurely sipping black tea, "I think you can try it with your boyfriend." He shook the documents in his hand, One of the photos of dripping wax and leather goods successfully made Mycroft choke, and in the distance in Scotland Yard, in the office, Lestrade sneezed. He rubbed his nose and said to himself: "Yes It's not a cold."

In the taxi, Watson scratched his cheek and finally couldn't restrain his curiosity, although he was still a little unnatural about getting too close to Sherlock, um, or shy?Oh no, he wasn't shy. He shook his head. Watson turned to look at his new boyfriend and asked curiously, "He doesn't smoke, how can you be sure he has a lighter?"

Sherlock glanced at the other party, didn't speak, just took something out of his pocket, and then raised the corners of his lips, that kind of expression like a child offering a treasure.

Watson froze for a moment, then laughed, "Excellent, Sherlock."

"You reminded me, John." Sherlock stuffed the crystal ashtray into the doctor's arms. He didn't forget the joke he just made, stealing an ashtray from Buckingham Palace. As for the loss, it's not his problem , Mycroft will always figure it out.

"I can already imagine Mycroft's feeling when he finds you taking the ashtray away under his nose."

"At least I didn't take his papers with me."

"It's because you already have several backups." Watson unceremoniously exposed the cohabitant's lies.

"Well, to a certain extent, yes." Sherlock said relaxedly, his light-colored eyes were as bright as gems because of pleasure, and Watson felt that he really liked this guy at this moment. Who would take a joke from the other party seriously? Only Sherlock, John Watson's cohabitant, has the unique romance of Sherlock Holmes.

"I think what you did made me feel more real than that confession." Watson said with a smile while lowering his head and playing with the crystal ashtray.

Sherlock raised the corners of his lips, grabbed the other's fingertips with his left hand, held them unceremoniously, looked forward and said in a low voice: "I only do what I want to do."

"It's really willful."

"you do not mind."

"Well, I really don't mind."

Pleasant laughter sounded in the small taxi, but the camera not far away was aimed at two people. In the elegant suite, the brown-blond haired woman stared at the man in the photo, her bright red nails slid across the other's cheeks. Lips, hooked lips into a smile.

"Perfect prey."