These are the portraits Mummy has over the fireplace in her private den.
How did she get Sherlock to smile for the photographer, well, that’s between the two of them. (It does involve a skull from the local college’s anatomy classes.)
Conversely, it took almost nothing for dear Mycroft to smoulder for the camera, of course. Mycroft had always been such a charismatic young man.
Much like his father, really.
Sherlock, however? The portrait is nothing less than a treasure for Mummy.
Reblogging because of that lovely ficlet.