Sherlock One shots and Imagines

Our American Cousins - Part 3 - Mycroft x Reader

My apologies if Mycroft seems a little OOC. But I wanted to explore other sides of him. To show him a little love and have him show it in return. There is going to be another part to bring this story together. But for now, I hope you enjoy.

Mycroft woke. His heavy eyelids scrunching tightly as the rays of the sun flooded the room and hit his face. He knew that he wasn't in his own bedroom. He knew that he wasn't even in his own home. He was somewhere better. Somewhere that only a day or so ago, he had only ever hoped to find himself, but never believed that it would be the case.

The night before had been a strange, yet wonderful whirlwind of an evening. He and (Y/n) had danced. Had drunk. He had let his guard down for the first time since, well to be brutally honest, it was the first time that he had ever let the stiff upper lip English gentleman, Mycroft Holmes façade slip. He had lost himself in her eyes. He had lost himself in her touch. In her laugh, and her sweet words. He had found himself making jokes, jokes he wasn't even sure how he knew. His usually cool, calm and still heart, almost bursting from its bony confines as (Y/n) had giggled at every silly punchline. She was a breath of fresh air that seemed to fill all his senses. A shaft of light in an otherwise dark and ordered world. She was a vortex of colour and noise, and Mycroft had to admit that he had enjoyed every minute. So, as the night drew into the wee small hours, he knew that he didn't want it to end. That even though he should make his excuses, and leave (Y/n) to her rest, like the gentleman that he had always prided himself on being. He had thrown caution to the wind, and he had kissed her. But it was no plain and simple kiss. No quick peck on the cheek as a thank you for a wonderful evening. No mere friendly exchange. No. This kiss had been filled with passion. With need and desire. With longing and want. It had been filled with his yearning not to have to leave her side. And as she had kissed him back, he knew that she felt the same. That she had no want for him to leave either. That just like him, she wanted more.

"Good morning, Mister Holmes. Fancy meeting you here." A soft sleep heavy voice said from behind him, as an arm snaked its way underneath his own. A delicate hand being placed lightly on his bare chest. Mycroft humming happily to himself, as he felt her warm naked form press up against his back.

"Good morning to you too, Colonel (Y/l/n)." Mycroft replied, with his own sleepy voice. The older Holmes turning over. His smile growing broader as he came face to face with (Y/n). The whole scene feeling right. Comfortable. Perfect.

It was still hard for him to believe that this had happened. The walls that he had built up around himself over the years. That he had built up around his heart. The walls that had caused James Moriarty to describe him as the Iceman, were high and thick. And for any other, would have been quite impenetrable. Yet (Y/n) had managed to destroy them with just a look. She had managed to get to the man that was buried deep down. To the man that cared for Sherlock and those close to him. And now she was one of those. One of those that he truly cared for. But the one thing that made her different to all the others, was that with (Y/n), he wanted to actually confess it. He would not hide it under hostility and rivalry, as he did with Sherlock. He would not hide it under his otherwise cold and unsympathetic manner. He would tell her every day. Show her in every way.

"Tell me, Mycroft. Have you ever had to do the walk of shame?" (Y/n) chuckled, as she placed her hand on his cheek.

"The walk of.............?"

"Come on Mycroft, its having to walk back home on the day after an unplanned sexual encounter. Usually dressed in the same clothes as you wore the previous evening. Surly you have heard of it?" (Y/n) chuckled again. Mycroft furrowing his brows, sure that the term "walk of shame" was not in his lexicon.

"I'm not ashamed of what happened last night, (Y/n). Are......are you?"

"It was a joke, Mycroft. I was just thinking of you walking down the hall and bumping into Uncle Andrew. About what he would say. And the guards on the gates. I'm not ashamed either Mycroft. Not at all. And to be honest, I am glad that it happened. I wanted it to happen. I came to England expecting to meet the bogeyman. But instead, I meet someone who is going to make it hard to go home. Someone who I wish that I didn't have to leave when the President has finished his business here." (Y/n) replied. Her smile dropping as she mentioned having to travel back to the States. Her head burying into this chest as she tried to stop the tears from falling.

Leaving. Mycroft hadn't thought about her having to leave. In his mind he had had all this planned out. That (Y/n) would stay with him. That she would always be with him. That they could work together and spend their nights just like this. That he would introduce her to Sherlock. That eventually they might even.......... But of course, she would have to leave. She had a life on the other side of the pond. She had family. Position. Mycroft realising that he had just found her, and within a matter of days, he would lose her again. Yet what could he do?

"(Y/n). Tell me what you want." Mycroft said. The older Holmes placing his hand under her chin and raising her head so that their eyes met.

"I.......I......know that this is all a little quick, Mycroft. That we barely know one another. But......but I want you. I have spent so many years dedicated to my career. Dedicated to upholding the name of my family, that I have never really had time to care about someone else. To have someone care about me. Someone that I could talk to. Laugh with. Dance with. And never would I have thought that I would find that here. But I have, Mycroft. And I have found it with you. I wish I could stay to see if there is really something between us. To get to know you better. To not have to wake up in a cold, lonely bed anymore. I want to wake up like this. Wake up to you. To listen to more of your silly jokes. To have you make me the breakfast that you promised. To have you introduce me to your brother. That is what I want. And it may all sound fanciful and foolish. That things like that are meant for everyone else but us. But I don't care. For once in my life, I am thinking with my heart and not my head. For once I don't give a damn about my name or my job. Because I have found something better than both of those. I have found you. And I don't want to lose that." (Y/n) confessed. The soldier no longer able to stop the tears from falling. as she looked into Mycroft's blue-grey orbs. The older Holmes brother steeling himself as he pulled her close. The feel of her shaking form telling Mycroft exactly what he needed to know. That she did truly want the same as he did. And between them, they would get it.