A/N: OK, so this story is kind of an experiment, a jaunt into the Omegaverse and exploring the A/B/O dynamic from a radically different angle than most of the other stories I've read, so I'm not sure what people will think. In other words, although the first half of the story will discuss things like Knotting and sex and Omegas going into Heat, there will be no actual in-story sex until Part 2.

The other kinda weird thing about this story is that I literally wrote it today. And will be posting it in three parts: this prologue, another sort-of prologue set 15 years later, and then the real meat and potatoes of the story, the part with the actual Sherlolliness. So, um, yeah. Enjoy, but if you hate it, I'd much rather have you tell me so in a PM than any other venue. Just sayin'.

Plus, I own nothing but the plot and the words in the character's mouths and the things I make them do. Everything else belongs to the BBC and Mofftiss.

Oh yeah - basically unbeated and unedited, but read over and encouraged to upload by the wonderful wickedwanton. Thanks, you're always a great help! And yes to anyone who cares, I am still working on "When Darkness Falls." This just sort of took over my life for a day.

Prologue: 1984

"Mycroft! Mycroft!"

Mycroft Holmes winced, knowing that angry, petulant tone even from far down the stairs. Something had happened to set off his younger brother's volatile temper again, and knowing the six-year-old Alpha's stubbornness, he wouldn't shut up about it until Mycroft had either thoroughly explained it or taken care of whatever the problem turned out to be.

Sometimes he really, really hated being the elder brother. He was only thirteen, why did it always fall on him to explain things to Sherlock?

Because Father is rarely home, and he's the only other Alpha Sherlock trusts, the cold, practical portion of Mycroft's mind retorted.

Not that there were any other Alphas on the Holmes estate; Father was one of those who couldn't tolerate even perceived competition on his own territory for long periods of time. Too sensitive to the scents, too apt to offer challenges even though he was in a class of his own and Lifebonded to boot. Conversely, those very traits made him a superb diplomat, since he tended to dominate other Alphas outside his own territory to great effect – and to the advantage of the British government. Mycroft knew he would follow in his father's footsteps one day and have just as high a position, although not necessarily via the Diplomatic Corps. Too bad Mummy…

Mycroft scowled, an expression that look far too natural on his teenaged face. Could that be what this was about? He really, really hoped not. He'd heard his younger brother questioning Mummy on the differences between being Lifebonded – a biological imperative between Alphas and their Omega mates – and marriage, a convention based on religious and societal norms, but hadn't paid attention to the conversation, busy with his summer reading list.

"Mycroft!" His brother's shrill, insistent tones broke into his thoughts as he finally burst through the door to Mycroft's study. "It isn't fair!"

Mycroft sighed and closed his book, looking over at his brother with as neutral an expression as he could manage.

The two brothers couldn't have looked more different: Mycroft, pudgy and sandy blonde, Sherlock a skinny bit of nothing covered by a tangled mop of dark brown hair. Mycroft favored their mother, Sherlock their father, but both had inherited intense blue eyes from the Vernet side of the family. In that, they both favored their mother. "What is it, Sherlock?" he asked. "What isn't fair this time?"

A great deal seemed unfair to his younger brother, with his passionate temper and seemingly endless capacity for asking questions. He braced himself, knowing his suspicions were about to be confirmed.

And so they were. "Mummy says she and Daddy can never be married cause she's an Omega!" Sherlock was fairly vibrating with indignation, and Mycroft bit back a sigh. When did he become the one source for all wisdom for Sherlock?

Since he already knew the answer to that question – "since always" – he did his best to answer the one his brother had actually asked. "Look, Sherlock, that's just the way the law works. Mummy and Father don't have to be married like ordinary people, cause he's a powerful Alpha and she's an Omega. Lifebonding is much more important than marriage," he added, hoping that answer would be enough.

May as well hope for the rain not to fall. Sherlock's jaw jutted out in a very familiar, very stubborn pose. "But just cause Mummy's an Omega, she's still a person, why doesn't she have the same rights as the rest of us? It's not fair!"

"You already said that," Mycroft found himself snapping, mostly because he'd felt exactly the same way as Sherlock when he discovered how few rights Omegas had, even in the supposedly enlightened 20th century. "No, it's not fair, but it's the way the world works. There are biological reasons Omegas can't have the same rights as other people. Things you wouldn't understand," he added, somewhat spitefully. Because no matter how intelligent his younger brother was, six was really and truly too young to understand the concept of Omega Heat cycles and Knotting.

His face burned a bit red as he thought the forbidden word. He'd only learned about the sexual needs of Alpha males this past year, on one of their father's brief visits home between diplomatic missions. Puberty had struck with a hammer blow; he'd woken up with far too many morning erections and the sight of the swollen glands at the base of his cock had panicked him into actually talking to his father about it.

That had been a very interesting conversation – but not one he was going to share with a six-year-old. Even though said six-year-old was vociferously demanding to know what Mycroft meant about biology and why he thought he couldn't understand and…

"Sherlock!" Mycroft shouted, scowling at his brother as he stood before him, arms crossed and red-faced. He subsided, meeting Mycroft's scowl with one of his own. "Look, there are laws about all kinds of things, right?" Sherlock nodded warily. "Well, sometimes they make sense and sometimes they don't. Sometimes they're fair and sometimes they're not. And sometimes," he added, tromping over Sherlock's clear intention to question him on that point, "they seem unfair when they're really to protect people."

That caught his brother's interest; the scowl vanished, replaced by a puzzled expression. Good. That meant he was really listening and would actually think about what he was being told. "Omegas have a special biology that you'll learn more about when you're older," Mycroft continued, softening his voice a bit. "It makes things difficult for them to just go about like other people, like Betas and Alphas and regular Humans." Regular Humans, in fact, were the ones who insisted on the laws preventing Omega females from having the same rights as everyone else, but that was an entirely different matter and one he would allow Sherlock to one day discover on his own – when he was much, much older. "The laws are to protect them, not to punish them. The marriage law is like that, but it doesn't matter, because Lifebonding really is more important. Did Mummy say she was sad that she couldn't be married to Father?" he asked shrewdly.

Sherlock looked a bit shifty, which meant Mycroft's interpretation was spot on. "Well, no," he admitted after a minute of silent staring between the brothers. "She said I shouldn't worry about it. That she was happy the way things were and that I'd understand when I was older." The stubborn look returned to his face, the scowl almost as natural on his features as it appeared on Mycroft's. "I hate when people tell me that, Mikey," he pouted.

Mycroft relaxed. Once Sherlock started calling him by his family nickname, it meant he knew the battle was lost, at least for the moment. "Yeah, I always hate it, too, Sherly," Mycroft confessed. "But just think; when we're older, we'll be able to tell it to kids, too."

The brothers shared a grin, then the conversation turned to Sherlock's current obsession, pirates, which Mycroft willingly entered into. He was leaving for boarding school in two weeks, and their time together after that would be limited to summers and holidays.

He only hoped it wouldn't cause too much trouble, for Sherlock not to have someone regularly on hand to turn to with his endless questions. His curious, agile mind was even sharper than his own, although it pained Mycroft to admit it. Still, they could always write to one another, and impulsively he told Sherlock, whose penmanship and grasp of grammar and spelling were almost equal to Mycroft's own, to write down any troublesome questions he might have while he was at school, and he would do his best to answer them.