Sherlock Preferences & Imagines

Mycroft Holmes.

Just something small while I'm working on requests and a little thing as it's my birthday and who doesn't want to spend their birthday with Mycroft? This story is kind of based on my past experiences so read with caution.

Enjoy!
——
Growing up birthdays weren't a big deal. I'd experience other people's birthdays but not your own. Even then, I was mostly not even allowed to go to anyone's birthday party.
I'd watch your family, your friends, and neighbours have parties, dinners, and small get-togethers, but it wasn't like that for me.
But then again, I wasn't a thought in anyone's head, no matter the time of year. I wasn't important.

So I never celebrated. No one knew. When I moved to London and made friends, they never knew my birthday.

And that's the way it was going to stay.

—-
"Hello, John," Mycroft said walking into 221B.
"Uh hi, Mycroft. What brings you here? Sherlock's not here."
"I know. I'm here for you. You're the most sentimental person I know."
"Right. So how can I help you?"
"Do you know when Y/n's birthday is?"
John pondered for a moment.
"No... no. I don't think she's told anyone."
"Do you perhaps know why? You've known her the longest."
"Probably her upbringing. It wasn't a good one."
Mycroft hummed.
"She's never told anyone?"
John shook his head.
"Don't you know? You're her boyfriend after all."
"I wouldn't be asking if I knew John."
John let out a tense smile.
"So what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to find out. I'm the British government after all. I'll keep you updated if that's okay John?"
"Yeah. Absolutely."
"Farewell John."

—
John was sitting at Sherlock's desk, laptop open, his blog on the screen. But he did not move to type.
"Something wrong?" Sherlock asked.
"Do you know when Y/ns birthday is?"
"Y/n? No. It's nowhere in my mind palace. Why?"
"Mycroft popped in earlier asking if I knew."
"Do you?"
"No. No one does."
"But you've known her for years."
"Yeah, but I guess it never came up."
The silence that fell in the room was broken by a text sound.
'Mr Watson.
You'll be pleased to know that I discovered when Y/ns birthday is. It is (Y/b/d).
Which is in a few days.
Is there something we could do to surprise her?

M.H'

"Who was that?" Sherlock asked.
"Your brother. He found out her birthday."
"Oh? When is it."
"In a few days."
"Oh."
"He wants to celebrate."
"Shouldn't we just leave it be? If she doesn't want to celebrate her birthday then we shouldn't push her to." Sherlock said.
"Yeah. But look at how she celebrates us on our birthdays. The least we could do is make it special for her. If she doesn't like it we don't do it again."
"Fine. But don't blame me."
John sighed.
"What should we do?"
"Ugh. Meaningless questions. Boring."
"Stop being a twat and help me."
Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"What should we do? Go for dinner? Tea party? Brunch?"
"No, no and let me think... no."
"Then what smart arse?"
"If we're doing this we have to do it right. Something small but big enough to celebrate but not so much that it'll scare her off. So no party. No tea party. Or brunch. Dinner is nice but mediocre. She likes spending time with people she's close to, so me, you, Mycroft, Mrs Hudson, Molly and Lestrade. Movie marathon maybe? No...No. Ah, how about a museum? We hire out a room which will be easy. And have a get-together there? Drinks and snacks. Not big enough to be a party."
"That's... amazing."
"Well, I am actually amazing."
John told Mycroft what Sherlock said. Taking credit for the good idea.
—
I wake to kisses being pressed onto my neck and shoulder. I hum gently as Mycroft woke me slowly.
"Good morning my love." He grumbled in his deep morning voice.
"Hello, handsome," I said turning and facing him.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead.
"You're beautiful." He said smiling.
I smile back at him.
"Shouldn't you be leaving for work?" I ask.
"Not today. Today I thought we could spend time together. It's been a while since we've done something special."
I smile.
"I love that idea."
"Good."
After a whole of being in each other's arms, we finally decided to get up and ready.
I paused as I looked at myself in the mirror.
It was my birthday.
Did Mycroft know?
He couldn't know. Unless he looked.
Would it be so bad if he knew?
I look at the closed bathroom door, imagining I'm looking directly at him.

—-
"You look beautiful," Mycroft said seeing you.
"You look handsome," I reply. He grabbed your hand kissing the knuckles.
"Shall we?"
He leads me out the door.

He'd taken you to the theatre to watch your favourite performance. Then you looked through the art galleries close by. He smiled as he heard you talk about your favourite artists' work.

You both then sat on the bench overlooking the Thames.
"Happy birthday," Mycroft said.
I looked at him half shocked but half relieved
"You know?"
"Yeah. I wondered when it was as we'd never celebrated it. Yet you put in so much effort for us all. So I looked you up and found out. I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry. I didn't tell anyone cause it never mattered before. It was easier to just not celebrate it. Ever."
"I understand my love. But forever until death when we part, even in the afterlife where will meet and live for eternity, you'll always be special to me. You'll always be important. I love you with my whole heart. Now come on. We've got one more place to go." Mycroft said standing up, offering his hand, which you took. He head you to the British Museum. You both entered, smiled and greeted the hostesses. You both paused outside a hall.
"Happy birthday my darling." He said. The doors opened allowing you inside.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
You jumped in fright at the loudness. You looked around the room seeing the family you had made. The people who you love and cherish and people who cherish and love you in turn.
You quickly spun to hug Mycroft.
He pulled away a little, then swooped you downwards into a kiss.

Best birthday ever.