It is an unusually sunny morning, one Mycroft has decided best spent outdoors revising for the oncoming exams. He is on route to the garden, school books in hand, lost in his head as usual when he accidentally bumps into something.

Apologising automatically he discovers that for once the manor isn't empty. For some reason there is a girl-just-turned-woman exploring freely. Offering her his hand to help her up he begins to mumble an apology, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

Once they are both upright again, Mycroft expects her to yell at him. Instead she nods at him, smooth's her plum dress that judging by the slightly frayed hem was several years old. That done she waves a hand over to the painting she had been examining, drawing them both over to it.

"This is a fake. I hope you realise. The paint work is quite awful for a supposedly world renowned artist… see these spots here, here and here where the brush work is clumsy… And those parts are the wrong colour… Not to mention they've rushed and forgotten to add the flowers in the background… That horse has been added later and the signature at the bottom is shaky at best, I'm sure a ten year old could fake a stomach ache better than this rubbish…" The stranger tells him pointing out another dozen or so reasons why the portrait closest to them is clearly a forgery, smiling brightly at him as she does so.

He's so caught up in whirl of her words it takes some time for Mycroft to notice anything besides her pretty yet incessant mouth. When he does so he finds himself quite taken with her dark flowing shoulder length curls and bright curious eyes.

"Mycroft Holmes. That was brilliant. I must confess I'd never noticed before you brought it up." He ends up blurting during the first pause he finds.

She blinks, so wrapped up in the painting that it takes her a few moments to understand what he has said.

"Violet." She says with a smile folding her hands in front of herself and touching them to her lip." I was just about to take a walk in your lovely gardens. Would you-"

"- I'll be delighted." He replies before she can finish her sentence.

"Marvellous. " She replies linking arms with him.

For a moment Mycroft forgets to how to breathe. Coming to his senses quickly though he leads her down the corridor his studying forgotten along with the books now lying on the floor.

They spend the most pleasant few hours of their existence together looking at the flowers and quietly talking. During that time Mycroft learns a great number of things about his wondrous angel, he learns about her passion for art and knowledge, and that she is accompanying her father who has important business to discuss with his and that they may be staying for a while. She in turn takes a fierce interest in him deducing all sorts of things about his interests and plans, which is unusual as next to no one ever takes notice of him. What is even more unusual is that she likes what she finds.

The flowers seem particularly nice that day he remembers noting as she teaches him how to deduce, explaining how muddy foot prints tell her that the gardener smokes pot in the shed and has a difficult relationship with his mother.

The warmth of her hand in his as they walk down to the lake is pleasant. Once there beneath the large old willow tree he finds the soft, gentle press of her lips on his is even better despite their bumping of noses. "Was that good?" She asks quietly as she pulls away a few moments later, wiping away the red of her lipstick from his lips as she does so.

"Exquisite." He replies leaning over to kiss her again. Taking her hand as he does so.