Chapter 1

"BORED!"

Sherlock's cries of boredom echoed in the 221B flat. John let out a discouraged sigh as he watched his taller detecting counterpart stride back and forth across the floor boards, hands clasped firmly behind his back, eyes closed as he allowed his mind to wander.

"Sherlock, calm down. You just solved another case. Give the world a chance to be interesting again."

Sherlock let out a dramatic sigh as he tired of pacing, and flopped onto the sofa. He laid sprawled there, arms flung carelessly above his heads, one leg on the sofa, the other hanging off it.

"Boredom is like a disease, John," said Sherlock, "And it's one I'm constantly plagued with."

John reached for his tea cup, taking a tentative sip before rolling his eyes.

"How do you do it, John?" asked Sherlock, craning his neck to the side to focus on John. "How do you deal with the monotony?"

"Sherlock," said John slowly, as he had had this discussion before with Sherlock numerous times. "There are ways in which to productively use your time-"

"Waste, John," interrupted Sherlock, turning his head to look up at the ceiling, "There are ways in which to productively waste your time."

"Sherlock," sighed John, running one hand down his face. "Surely you must have something you can do in the meantime. Don't you have an experiment you're working on?"

"Not at the moment, no," said Sherlock, his blue eyes still fixated on the ceiling tiles above him.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with reading," suggested John. "Find a book to read."

John decided that the best thing he could do for Sherlock at this point was to ignore him, instead of humoring him further. He turned back to his blog, and began to type again when Sherlock spoke up.

"I've exhausted my library here. There is nothing for me to read."

"Well, at least you have it better than some. You really should stop complaining."

Sherlock turned his head to face John again, quirking a brow in a puzzlement.

"What do you mean by that statement?"

"You at least get cases, and have things to do. You at least have friends and people to hang out with to pass the time," said John, looking up from his laptop screen. "Look at Mycroft, for instance. He is constantly bombarded by work, and he never seems to get any relief. Even when he does leave his office to go to his Diogenes club, they have to remain silent. Mycroft is probably ten times more bored than you on a regular basis."

Sherlock let out a soft hum, pondering what John had just said for a moment.

"Maybe that's why he is consuming cake..." muttered Sherlock.

John let out another sigh, and went back to finishing his blog post. When he finished, he looked up at Sherlock to see that he was still lost in his thoughts.

"John, I know what I'm going to do to occupy my time until another case arises," declared Sherlock as he slowly sat up on the sofa.

"Oh, have you now? What have you decided to do?" asked John, genuinely curious.

"It's something I wouldn't normally do, but given what you have just told me, and the circumstances, I suppose it's worth some sort of effort."

John raised a brow, puzzled by what Sherlock was saying.

"What are you getting at, Sherlock?"

"Are you busy this afternoon?"

"No, not as of yet, but I assume that you're asking because you'd like my assistance in which case, yes, I'll be busy, but I have no idea with what yet."

Sherlock cracked a small grin at John's mini deduction. He stood up, stretching his arms above his head, leaning forward on his toes.

"What are you planning on doing, Sherlock?" asked John.

Sherlock turned to John, an impish twinkle in his eyes.

"You're right. I do have it luckier than some, and it's time I did something about that."

"You're going to do something charitable with your time?" said John. "That's kind of you."

"Well, I suppose you could call it charitable." Sherlock walked over to his coat, which he had draped against the back of his chair, and shrugged into it. "What I am about to do is only the brotherly thing to do, seeing that Mycroft won't take it into his own hands."

"Sherlock, I'm still lost," admitted John, rising from his own seat at the desk after one more quick swallow of tea.

"I'm going to help Mycroft out, seeing as I probably owe him a brotherly deed here or there anyway."

"Okay...and what are you doing to help him out?"

Sherlock flashed John a quick smile as he walked toward the door.

"I'm going to find him a companion, John. A friend."

"You're going to find Mycroft a friend?" asked John.

Sherlock quickly nodded, placing one hand on the door knob.

"Are you in? Do you want to help me melt an Iceman, John?"

AN: This will be a cute family/friendship story. I hope that you all enjoy it. :) Thanks for reading!