I Hate Christmas Parties 2/3 (Mycroft x Reader)

Mycroft tried to read you, to discern your thoughts, as you stared pensively out the window of the car but came up with nothing. He knew you enjoyed the holidays, his brother often complained over the fact that you always decorated his flat and insisted that he go shopping with you and John, but looking at you now it was like he’d stolen your Christmas spirit.

He pursed his lips before taking a deep breath, “I apologize for what I said earlier. I know you have your reasons for keeping your distance from your brother.”

“If I tell you why do you promise it never leaves this car and that you will not bring it up ever again?” you asked, turning to look at him with a serious face.

He considered this for a moment and then nodded, “You have my word.”

“My brother raised me after our parents died because he had no other choice. He’s an alcoholic who hates me and as such gets rather violent when I am around. I disowned him as soon as I was old enough to leave.”

Mycroft’s mind slowly wrapped around this, going over anything and everything it implied as he let his mind have free reign for the rest of the ride. You looked to him when you got there and rolled your eyes, bloody Holmes’ and their trance like thinking states.

You got out and then went to pull him out, disturbing his thoughts, “Please don’t make me drag you, Mycroft…. I made sure we have your favorite scotch. All you have to do is climb the stairs and I swear I will pour you a double and make sure Sherlock doesn’t notice when you have two pieces of cake.”

He got out without your help and you gave him a grateful smile as you ushered him up the stairs and into Sherlock’s flat before quickly excusing yourself to go down to your own flat, 221C, so you could finish getting ready and grab the rest of the food.

“You brought up her brother.” Sherlock stated flatly as soon as you left and John shot Mycroft a glare as Mrs. Hudson scolded, “You know better Mycroft.”

“I apologized,” he said before falling silent to wait for you to come back before everyone else started to show up. You bounced back in with a gingerbread cookie hanging out of your mouth, your spirit somewhat restored as you gave a little twirl and handed John the stuffing and plate of cookies you’d brought up.

You had on a white dress with a red and green holly trim and a red bow around your waist with a metallic gold cardigan, your feet bare as usual. Had you and Mycroft been a couple people would have cooed over how adorable you two looked in your classic yet matching outfits. You gave Mycroft a little grin, “Well Mymy? Worth the wait?”

John laughed as the man pulled a disapproving grimace at what you had called him and you bounced over to ruffle your soldier friend’s hair with a wide grin. He grinned back at you as he batted you away and Sherlock cleared his throat, causing you to both to look at him and then up to where his gaze was, finding a sprig of mistletoe staring down at you.

You let out a mirthful laugh and quickly placed a chaste kiss on John’s lips before patting his cheek, “Merry Christmas John.”

Sherlock smirked at his brother’s entirely unamused expression just as both Molly and Lestrade burst through the door, loudly exclaiming, “Merry Christmas everyone!”

You had disappeared into the kitchen with John and met Lestrade in the doorway to receive the bottle of wine he’d brought, causing Molly to giggle, “Mistletoe, Greg!”

He looked up and then shrugged, leaning to place a quick innocent kiss on your lips as you giggled, “It would seem someone has found the opportune spot for that to keep my lips busy all night.”

Sherlock was quite happy with the fact that his brother’s grip on the arm of his chair had just gone incredibly tight, loosening only when you came to give him a glass of scotch. You pressed it into his hand with a happy glint in your eyes, “I promised and I always keep my promises.”

He gave you a small smile, glad to have your attention, “Thank you, my dear. I know I did not say it before but you look positively radiant.”

A dark blush colored your cheeks as you sank down to sit on the arm of his chair, “Thank you Mycroft.”