The Man With The Umbrella

- 28 -

Sherlock had been shot the same day.

Amelia would find out the intricacies of the events, later on. He almost died, Mycroft would relay to her and that where Sherlock was shot was no mistake either.

Amelia and Viola saw little of Mycroft over the next following fortnight.

To be honest though, Amelia was busy herself. There were exhibitions to fill, interviews to be held and cases to win in her busy little life.

Amelia found it amusing how she changed her artists name. Mycroft's habit for secrecy and staying private was beginning to rub off onto the Watson woman and child included.

Viola was in school progressing to finish in a few weeks time, in time for college. It was something Amelia as a mother was proud of and Viola as the daughter, to be very happy about.

Autumn began to blend into winter the next time she truly saw Mycroft. She wasn't angry or disappointed. He was Mycroft Holmes after all, and Amelia knew what she was getting into the moment she snogged him.

***

Amelia knew it was Mycroft as soon as he knocked on the door. He had a very precise way of knocking. She opened the door with a relieved smile blessed to her face. She didn't bombard him with questions of their brothers and the importance of what happened weeks ago, she was just happy to see him. That alone, was more than enough for the Watson woman.

"You have paint on your nose." He spoke instead of passing pleasantries.

Amelia reached up, rubbing the tip of her nose over her long hoodies sleeve. "Well, that's embarrassing." She mumbled to herself before stepping aside to let him in. "I spoke to the mailman earlier, he could of told me."

Mycroft gazed around to his surroundings. "I see that you have upgraded your furniture."

"I got bored." She answered. "Nothing in this entire flat matches." He insisted. "I know." She made her way to the kitchen. "Isn't it lovely?" She laughed out. She popped the kettle on and tiptoed to the cupboard above the sink, where she kept a selection of hot chocolates for Viola, coffees for herself and a fancy brand of teas for Mycroft. It was the same brand she remembered being stashed in his cupboards from her time assigned as his cleaner.

Something that, to her, seemed to be a lifetime ago.

Mycroft stood behind her as she made his and her teas and Amelia suddenly felt the awkwardness in the room shift. Curious by the silence, she poured the hot water before turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. He stood a little closer to her than before and swallowed when he met her gaze.

"Are you alright?" She asked with a tilt to her head. Mycroft frowned, giving a funny little smile, something that brought Amelia to the conclusion that the world must be ending. He sighed quietly to himself, as if he was nervous. "I am quite awful at this. I should have liked to have kissed you when you opened the door, but I fear the moment has passed."

Amelia considered him for a moment. She was learning quite quickly that whilst he was confident in more carnal sins, physical acts, when it came to those romantic moments, Mycroft was quite stunned.

To be fair though, Amelia was no better.

She grinned with delight as she swayed her hips towards him and dipped forward on her tiptoes to peck his lips. "Satisfied, Mister Holmes?" She questioned whilst looping her arms around his neck. He smelt like the same aftershave he always wore; the one that she remembered seeing in his bathroom.

He rolled his eyes at her sappy nature. "You are such a tease." He grumbled before pulling her closer by the hips, holding her in an indulgent way, bringing his head down to hers to close their lips once more. "And to think that I thought the world was ending by that look on your face." Amelia scoffed out before collecting both cups and walking to the sofa with Mycroft trailing like a lost dog, something not in his nature...