Unlikely Pair || Mycroft Holmes x Reader

➾ Chapter Six

Mycroft's parents invited everyone out to Christmas dinner at the Holmes family cottage to celebrate Sherlock's getting out of the hospital after he stupidly broke into Magnusson's office to only walk in on Mary trying to kill him. You wanted to thank her, truly, for attempting to take out a man you hated with every fiber of your being, but she did almost kill Sherlock, which Mycroft didn't take too kindly to.

You were in the car as Mycroft drove to the cottage because he didn't trust his associates to know where his parents lived, but he did take along his laptop, which held many government secrets. You begged him not to take any work with him, but he pointed out that he was The British Government and was required to fulfil his quota.

"Thank you for talking Myc into coming, (Y/N)," Mrs. Holmes said as she stirred a pot of potatoes.

Mycroft made a face as you replied, "Of course. He wasn't getting out of coming, but I know he secretly wanted to."

"Why are we even doing this? We never do this," Mycroft asked, annoyed.

"Because Sherlock is home from the hospital and we're all very happy," his mother responded firmly, moving to exit the room.

Mycroft turned to you. "Am I happy, dear? I haven't checked."

You laughed and kicked him under the table in warning to not make such horrible jokes when his mother was around and was trying so hard to make everyone comfortable.

Wiggins walked in later and handed you and Mycroft punch, but while Mycroft nonchalantly drank it, you kept it at a distance.

"You should take notes from (Y/N), brother. She's far superior to your intellect in some areas," Sherlock commented.

Mycroft rolled his eyes because Sherlock was always in the habit of siding with you on everything just to spite his brother. You thoroughly enjoyed it, though, and it brought you closer to Sherlock in a way despite the fact that you were keeping secrets he would die to know.

"Where are John and Mary?" you questioned, changing the subject.

"Deliberating about their personal lives in the living room," Sherlock answered, biting into a cupcake as if to distract himself.

"Sherlock, a word outside," Mycroft said, rising to his feet.

You stayed in your seat as Sherlock slid his plate on the table and followed Mycroft from the house. You weren't curious with what they could be discussing because odds were that Mycroft would tell you later.

Mrs. Holmes eventually entered the room. "Where are my boys?" she asked, going back to make the food.

"Outside," you said, plucking a grape from the platter on the table and eating it.

"They better not be smoking," she said sternly.

"I'll go check," you replied, getting up and walking to the door.

You smirked before flinging the door open and yelling, "Are you two smoking!?"

"No!"

"It was Mycroft!"

The boys hid the cigarettes behind their backs as you gave them a scrutinizing look because you didn't think they would be. Mycroft knew you hated the habit with a passion and you would give him hell for it later.

"Dinner's going to be ready soon," you said.

"We'll be right in," Mycroft responded.

You didn't reply and slowly crept back into the house, giving a two-finger gesture that you were watching them if they did anything stupid. You went back to the kitchen and sat down to converse more with Mrs. Holmes.

"When are you and Myc going to get married? It's been far too many years," she inquired, continuing to cook.

You smiled sadly. "I'm not sure that's something Mycroft is thinking of honestly. I know you would like us to, but I don't see that in the future. Sorry to dissapoint."

"Nonsense." She waved it off. "He will propose one day. He is absolutely infatuated with you, (Y/N). You're the only one he listens to."

You had to agree with that because it was unequivocally true. Mycroft was used to tuning out those who he didn't want to hear, but even in a crowded room, your voice would be distinctive to him.

Speaking of the so-called Iceman, he walked in without Sherlock moments later and sat next to you. You took notice of the odd haze in his eyes but brushed it off as him being tired. You put your hand over his and rubbed your thumb against his skin.

"You okay?" you asked.

"Yes--" Mycroft cleared his throat and blinked a few times "--just a bit light-headed."

"Do you want some water?" you questioned, now concerned.

"No, I think--"

Mycroft's eyelids shut and he fell forward with his head on the table. You gasped and checked his pulse with one hand while laying your other on his cheek.

"Honey," you said rapidly, patting his face to get him to awaken, but he didn't. His pulse was slow but steadily thumping and you were utterly terrified for what was happening.

You looked over and saw Mrs. Holmes passed out as well in a chair, then Sherlock barged into the room talking to John behind him until he saw you weren't sleeping.

"What the fuck did you do, Sherlock?" you commanded.

"Why aren't you drugged out?" he asked, confused.

You crossed your arms. "One thing my father taught me was to never drink anything someone hands to you."

"Ah, what a coincidence," Sherlock replied, rounding the table and retrieving Mycroft's laptop. "We're going to see Magnusson right now. Care to join?"

"Really?" you questioned, exasperated. "You're unbelievable. I told you a million times that you don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"That's why I'm inviting you along," he said, and with John silently following, left the cottage.

You grumbled and kissed Mycroft's head--sending him a mental apology--before hurrying after them. There was no way the whole thing would end well, but maybe you would be able to keep from anything too disastrous from happening if you tagged along. You knew Charles Augustus Magnusson better than anyone, so maybe you would be the secret weapon. Only time would tell if you were right.