Thank you to everyone who has viewed my other stories. I much appreciate it!

This story in particular will be a change in fandoms at each chapter, but all will have the same theme: Loneliness and Winter. I hope you all enjoy. (they will be varying from Sherlock, to Star Wars to LOTR and even RA)

There is mention to a Sherlock Christmas Party in this chapter, and if it sparks some interest to you, please leave a comment and I will definitely write it. Then you can find out what Mystrade was up to ;)

-Hope

Frost lined the window of Mycroft's big, empty home.

It was cold, but Mycroft didn't seem to mind.

He sat in front of his large fireplace smoking a cigarette, his mind wandering. He didn't usually let his mind wander, but the past few months hadn't been the usual to Mycroft at all.

He briefly went through his memories, thinking over the course of events that had brought him to that moment.

His brother moved in with a new flat mate on the other side of town. This man proved to bring a drastic change to his brother.

The new man, John, became good mates with DI Lestrade from Scotland yard, and one crazy Christmas party later, Mycroft is very good friends with the DI as well.

Mycroft stood up and looked out the long, glass window. The roads were covered in ice, and the trees were laced with a thin layer snow. The only sound Mycroft could hear was the crackling of the fireplace and the wind pounding on the window, trying to force its entry.

Mycroft reached down into his pocket and pulled out his mobile. He didn't text much, only when he didn't have time to talk, but he felt like maybe this was something he wouldn't be able to say in his own voice.

It's cold here.

He thought once, twice, three times before managing to press his finger down on the send button.

He slowly walked away from the window, straightening his jacket. He lingered by the fireplace for a moment before sitting back down in his chair. He wasn't sure what to do now; he didn't know whether or not he would be spending the rest of the night alone.

It was about 20 minutes of sitting quietly on the chair by the fireplace that Mycroft decided that indeed, he would be alone. It was quite disappointing even if he already knew no one would have come.

Mycroft's phone buzzed.

I'm already here.

There was a knock on the door and Mycroft practically jumped out of his chair to answer it. His heart was pounding.

Calm down Mycroft, he told himself. There's no need to be so excited.

His hand clutched the near frozen door handle, and he twisted it, throwing the door open.

"Mycroft."

Lestrade's deep voice warmed up the entire room.

"Gregg."

And the rest of the night was no longer lonely…

No longer cold.