It all started one morning in December, when Harry wouldn't get out of bed.. Usually the younger man was awake and cooking breakfast before John or Sherlock woke up. This time, he grumbled about not feeling good and rolled over. Ignoring both of his lovers in favor of more sleep.

Sherlock leaned over, and feeling that Harry's forehead was hotter then normal (101.9, if his calculations where correct… and they always where.), and thought nothing of it. He informed John that Harry had a fever, and got up to start breakfast himself. He then continued on with his experiments.

John WAS the doctor, after all.. It made perfect since to let him take care of Harry's aliment.

John, of course, fussed over Harry like Sherlock knew he would. Keeping the young man in bed and bringing him his meals. Sherlock helped to, but he left most of the mothering to John. John was just.. Better at it.

A few days pasted, and Harry started to get more ill. Throwing up, and becoming clammy and shaky at the slightest change of temperature. Sherlock excused this, as the poor boy was probably suffering the Flu, and not the common cold as Sherlock and John first assumed.

Sherlock helped out a bit more, by bringing him tea and making a extra effort at keeping 221b at a stable temperature… even going at far as to block the windows from the cold airflow, as well as cleaning out some of the air vents to allow better dispersion of heat. Sherlock was rewarded by gratefulness from both John and Harry, and the healthy glow that started to show on Harry's face.

As Harry's symptoms started to wean off at the end of the 8th day, Sherlock considered himself a victor in this war against that annoying bug that dared to take root in Harry's system. He was sure that after a few more days of John's care and Sherlock's carefully selected teas, Harry would be back to himself in no less then 56 hours… two days and a half.

That was of course, until he came home from a consulting job on the night of the 9th day. He walked in the door to find, to his utter despair, a parcel from Mycroft laying right in front of his door.

It was, of course, from Mycroft; If the handwritten words; 'For Sherlock' on the paper wasn't enough of a give away, the carefully folded lines and the impeccable placement of the ribbon and tape he had used would have been enough.

Sherlock picked up the offending white box, and walked into 221B. Harry and John where talking cheerfully as they lounged together on the sofa in front of the Telly. Harry wrapped in a large fluffy blanket, and John in his jumper. Sherlock smiled lovingly at the pair. He shook off his favorite London fog coat, and placed it on the coat rack by the door.

Harry and John both smiled back to Sherlock as he showed them the little white THING that Mycroft had sent.

"My dear brother dropped something off… ether of you want to open it?"

"Since it's obviously for you, Sher, No." The young wizard said, as he took another sip of his tea.

"But I don't want it…" Sherlock protested.. Protested, NOT WHINED, protested…

"You don't even know what it is yet, Sherlock. Just open it, and if you don't want it, you can let us deal with it." John Watson said, as he pinned Sherlock with a look.

"Do I REALLY?.. It's not a Christmas or a birthday gift, obviously, so there is no social rule that says I HAVE to open it." Sherlock started.

"It would be rude… And I really don't feel like offending Mycroft anytime this decade. He meant for you to open it, so just open it." The young wizard had a point, and Sherlock could only sigh.

He took off the white bow and the ribbons first, then made quick work of the white wrapping paper. Finding a small cardboard box with a lid under the paper. Sherlock lifted the lid only to find a unimpressive bit of folded cotton fabric. Sherlock raised his arched eyebrow as the pulled the little thing out, and snored.

What ridiculousness was Mycroft up to now?… A infant's Sleep-and-play?.. Really, he never knew his brother would resort to GAG gifts!

Sherlock then froze as he looked and saw words printed in green letters in the front of the Sleeper.

I've got TWO daddies that love me!

Obvious the sleeper was meant to be a creative protest against the Anti-homosexuality movement.. Designed to be worn by a baby adopted by two men… but that was not what made Sherlock pause.

Me, John, and Harry had been together for months now, and Mycroft has known that since it started… but has left Harry out on purpose…

Harry is the only wizard in our relationship, with a magical core, leaving him with abilities beyond normal men…

Harry had been ill; Fever, nausea, weariness, 'Glow', Sensitivity to temperature…

The Two more dominant partners, or "Daddies" of the relationship would be him and John, Leaving Harry to be labeled as the… Mummy…

Sherlock's eyes nearly popped out his head as the sleeper stayed in his hand. John and Harry both started to look concerned. Sherlock seemed to be in shock, and that had never happened before….

John then stood up, and walked briskly over to his lover and flat mate as Harry looked around the room for some water or something to splash on his to knock him out of it.

"Sherlock? Sher? What's wrong? What happened?" John said gently. Trying to ease him back to them.

"Pregnant!" Sherlock exclaimed.. Not SQUEAKED, exclaimed… "Harry's pregnant!"

John's eyes went wide, and he lost his breath… Harry dropped his teacup and let it fall shattering to the floor as he stared down at his blanket-wrapped stomach in wonder…

And Sherlock fainted flat away onto the floor…

Mycroft Holmes grinned as he watched the live feed from his Brother's apartment. Streaming live on his desktop computer.

He knew that having all those cameras and bugs planted there would pay off eventually. Watching as his little brother fainted at finding he was going to be a father, and the Chaos that ensued, Mycroft had to admit.. This was DEFINITELY a pay off…

He clicked a button on the screen to capture and save the last few moments of video onto his hard drive, as he snickered to himself… The future blackmail on his brother was now secure.

It seems being the Shadow ruler of Britain did come with a few perks after all…