A Second Chance- Mycroft x Reader x John Chpt. 6

You hated that simply running into Mycroft in the garden could bring back all those old, terribly bitter memories, hadn’t it been long enough for you to let it go? You didn’t mind talking to John, he was a good listener, but you had only just met him and now you were dumping your life story on him. It felt wrong.

The doctor didn’t mind though, he was curious and felt guilty for bringing up something that was painful for you to recall. Despite the short amount of time he’d known you, John liked you. You could handle Sherlock superbly, you were kind yet witty, and smart yet fairly humble. Chatting on the train and on the way over to the mansion, he had felt like he had known you for years, the two of you just clicked in that way that some people do.

You pulled away from the hug shortly, hurriedly wiping your eyes with a little chuckle, “Goodness look at me, bawling on your shoulder like some sniveling crybaby.”

He gave you a soft smile, “Some of Sherlock’s ‘comforting’ words?”

“Like I said. Rubbish.” You confirmed and the two of you laughed.

You stood and straightened the creases in the full skirt of your sundress, “Well I best go get sorted before Mother calls for lunch.”

John just watched you for a moment, actually taking in your new attire now that you were standing. Your dress was the color of the cloudless sky with a square neck and an open back dipping down into a smooth bow of the same color, which wrapped around your waist to accentuate the curve of your hip. The hem and neckline were embroidered with a white vine pattern that made it slightly more casual but still proper. An interesting juxtaposition to your bare feet, which were covered with a dusting of dirt from being outside, and your hair, which was pulled back into a bun similar to Violet’s but far less immaculate, some shorter strands breaking free and falling loosely in your face.

“(F/n). John. Lunch!” came Sherlock’s sharp yell from down the hall promptly followed by the sound of Violet scolding him for yelling instead of walking over to get you like she wanted.

“You go ahead John. I’ll catch up.” There was no way you were going to the table without cleaning your feet and straightening yourself a little.

John exchanged a smile with you before responding to the call as you padded off to make yourself a tad more presentable. They were just sitting down at the table when Sherlock’s phone went off with a text message, garnering a raised eyebrow from his mother and a glare of disapproval from Mycroft. Opening it, he smirked at the words with a little chuckle before calling through the doorway, “You’ve eaten lunch with no shoes before. Mother doesn’t mind.”

A frustrated growl erupted from a distance away and a moment later you appeared in the doorway, your feet still bare, but clean now, and your cheeks a light pink as you hissed at Sherlock, “Can’t I count on you for anything?”

“Of course. As long as it isn’t trivial and idiotic as this was.”

You sighed, sliding in next to John, “I’m terribly sorry for my state of undress. I’m afraid I have only one pair of shoes and they are currently on the front steps covered in mud.”

The excuse was mostly directed at Mycroft as you knew that he was likely the only one who would care, a notion furthered by the fact that he was carefully scrutinizing you from across the table.  Now that he was closer, he could see the smattering of freckles across your nose and, from underneath your full lashes, a glint in your wide eyes that signified you’d been crying.

For the first time in all the time he known you he actually felt bad, you had been happily minding your own business in the garden and he had come and ruined it. He told himself he shouldn’t care- he’d kept his opinion of you all this time, why should it change now? The fact that he found you attractive shouldn’t matter as within you were still the same girl who’d wormed your way into his family and laid claim to their love. You set your jaw defiantly and met his gaze with a fire in your eyes that surprised him, scrutinizing him with the same intensity he’d afforded you. The tension in the air was oppressive and weighed heavily on the entire table.

Violet cleared her throat, getting both of you to look to her as she offered you a small smile, “It was nice to hear you play Beethoven again, dear.”

You returned her smile, “I’d almost forgotten what it sounds like on a proper piano… one makes a number of sacrifices to remain untethered as I was in my travels.”

Sherlock took the opportunity you’d given him, “Speaking of your travels, I’m sure we’d all like to know where you’ve been the past six months… Mother was certain something terrible had happened to you.”

You looked distraught for a moment and then offered Violet a forlorn look, “I am so very sorry Violet. I should have called.”

She reassured you, her eyes flicking to Mycroft as she knew the only time you called her Violet was when he was around, in an attempt to keep the peace, “It’s alright, darling. It must have been something important for you to lose touch.”

Nodding, you confirmed that fact, “I owed someone a favor and they had me running around Canada to stop some scandal. Absolutely Baltic that place, it’s just snow and ice everywhere.”

“What kind of favor got you to do that? And from whom?” John looked puzzled as usual.

You blushed a pearly shade of pink, “The favor of getting me out of a prison in Bangladesh. Knowing the right people can be useful for getting out of a tight space and Albert really came through for me… even if I had to go gallivanting all over that frozen wasteland in return.”

Your family, Mycroft included, all simultaneously began to ask questions with:

Violet loudly exclaiming, “Prison? What, in God’s name, were you doing in prison?”

Sherlock giving a smirk before pressing, “Was it a worthy scandal? Do tell.”

And Mycroft raising an eyebrow, “Albert? That wouldn’t be High Commissioner to Bangladesh, Albert Long, would it?”

You went a little wide-eyed for a moment before clearing you throat to silence them, “I’ll sort this out but one question at a time please. Violet?”

She was frowning at you with both worry and a hint of disappointment in her eyes, “How did you end up in prison, dear?”

“Trust me, it is not as dire as it sounds… I was falsely imprisoned because I back sassed a guard after he tried to take my bike.”

They all stared at you for a moment before Sherlock let out a soft hum of amusement, having gathered a bit more from you, “You back sassed not just any guard but the guard.”

You sighed, “How was I supposed to know he was head of the guard and as corrupt as rain is wet?”

Violet glared at her youngest son, “This is your influence, Sherlock. You taught her to sass her superiors by example.”

John looked to you and you flashed him an amused smile before going to your brother’s aid, “Please Violet, don’t blame him. I had a fair amount of sass long before I met him and my actions were my own.”

She sighed, “I suppose, as long as you are alright… That’s what matters”

“I’m fine. Exhausted and a bit jet lagged but happy to be in England again and no worse for wear.”

Sherlock took a breath to ask you his question but you cut him off with a finger pointed in his direction, “You do not have the clearance for me to fully answer your question but yes, It was a fantastic scandal. So twisty and challenging.”

He seemed satisfied with this, aware that later he’d convince you to give him details, and you turned to Mycroft as a small smile surprisingly found its way to your face, “Now what was it you asked, Mycroft?”

“Your friend, Albert, is he-?”

You nodded, “Yes, he’s the British High Commissioner. Do you know him?”

Mycroft nodded, looking at you with slightly more curiosity and a little less animosity now, “He’s a good diplomat but-“

“Terribly dull,” you and he finished simultaneously and you let out a sigh of relief, “Thank heavens, I thought I was the only one who held that opinion.”

Mycroft gave you a small genuine smile and you returned it as Violet gave a wide grin, “I told you that you had far more in common with her than you thought Mycroft.”

Your mother ruined the moment, as mothers often do, and Mycroft scowled at you, “Having a common acquaintance is hardly something worthy of excitement, Mother. The odds of that occurring are incredibly high and it changes nothing.”

You stood abruptly, your chair scraping harshly against the floor, “Please excuse me. I’m afraid I’m far more exhausted from traveling than I originally thought.”

Not waiting for an answer you stalked off and Mycroft was quick to excuse himself to stride off in the opposite direction, leaving the rest of the table to stare at their food for a moment before John remarked, “Should someone go check on her?”

Sherlock shook his head, having had his head chewed off for bothering you in this situation before, “Best to give her space.”

Violet let out a heavy sigh and slumped forward, giving up her proper stance for one of utter defeat, “It was going so well- they were smiling at each other- having a civilized conversation… Why does it always end like this?”