Author's note: With my DCBB done, it's time to revisit my Sherlock/Sally universe. Did you miss me?
Anyway, here have Uncle Mycroft.
He has seen many Prime Ministers arrive and leave at Downing Street, and as far as he is concerned, Edward Norton is neither the worst nor the most idiotic man to ever hold the officially highest position in the government.
He accepts Mycroft's role and has never given him trouble when he found it necessary to advise him. He's able to make rational decisions on his own as well. He isn't as difficult to listen to as others before him.
Today, however, Mycroft finds it almost impossible to concentrate. The meeting is relatively important, and yet he can't listen.
His sister-in-law's c-section is scheduled for today.
Soon, Sherlock will be a father.
Mycroft Holmes will be an uncle.
The sheer improbability of it is enough to confuse him, concentrate his mind on this rather than the Prime Minister.
Even after Sherlock and Sally Donovan became romantically involved, even after he came to know and appreciate Sally for how happy she made his brother, he didn't consider the possibility. He should have, of course; but his knowledge of Sherlock and his memories of the plans they made as children blinded him.
Becoming a parent was never part of the plan.
Mycroft knew early which role he wanted to play on this stage that calls itself politics, and Sherlock realized his interest in crime just as fast. Neither career paths are family friendly, and they couldn't believe that they would find a partner that would make them change their ways.
Then Sherlock did. After he died and came back from the dead, he suddenly met someone he thought he'd known before, but really hadn't; and against all odds he fell in love.
Even more against the odds, Sergeant Donovan felt the same.
Mycroft remembers having her checked out when Sherlock started working with the police and thinking nothing of her. He remembers watching her insulting his brother and thinking even less. And he remembers Sherlock returning and changing his opinion of her. Especially when she forced them to "get on".
He doubts his and Sherlock's relationship would be classified as normal even now. But they see each other more often without the pretext of cases and threats of undercover missions.
Sally's appointment is in half an hour. He knows Anthea (a subject best saved for another day) is taking care of her, that a limousine has been sent to 221B to pick her up.
And yet he isn't interested in what the Prime Minister has to say in the slightest.
He is used to this situation, he will freely admit, but not with Edward Norton. The man actually has some intellect, in contrast to his predecessors.
"Mycroft?" he asks, and he is surprised because none of the Prime Ministers have ever called him by his first name. He prefers it that way.
Only when he studies Norton's face does he realize that the man is honestly worried about him. There is no doubt about it. Both Holmes brothers learned long ago how to read people.
He wonders if the astonishment he experiences is like the one Sherlock felt when he realized people cared for him.
"Is everything alright?" he continues, and Mycroft doesn't know he has any intention of answering with anything but a polite negation until he says, "My nephew will be born today".
"Ah" Norton answers, smiling. "I remember how nervous I was before my boy was born. Your brother married a police woman, didn't he?"
Not even Mycroft was able to keep Sherlock's wedding completely out of the press and various social media sites. He nods, realizing that he doesn't despise Norton's attempt at small talk as he usually does.
Perhaps because the Prime Minister sounds genuinely interested.
"It's their first?"
He nods again.
"She's having a C-section" he supplied.
"It's the best with older mothers" Norton agrees. "Sheila had one too. I'm sure you got her the best doctor imaginable". His eyes twinkle and Mycroft wonders if he underestimated him. Edward Norton might understand his position better than he has let on.
"It is my brother's child we are talking about" he replies.
"Of course, of course. And I'm certain everything will go well. I'm surprised you came to work today, though. Considering how close you and your brother are..."
He trails off and Mycroft is once more taken aback. He can't remember a single instance where his and Sherlock's relationship was described as "close" since they were children. Where can Norton have got this impression? Mycroft is always careful to stay out of the press; he didn't even appear in Sherlock's wedding pictures.
"Her C-section is just about to begin. I will go to the hospital later today".
"You better bring pictures to the next meeting" Norton says nonchalantly, and while Mycroft is still pondering the fascination people have with other people's offspring, the Prime Minister thankfully returns to the easier subject of the state's economy.
Two hours later, the meeting having been longer than he expected, he leaves Downing Street with many good wishes from Edward Norton.
Anthea is waiting for him with a limousine.
"He was born at 10.10 am" she says immediately, "he and Sally are doing well. I cleared your afternoon".
He notices once more that she no longer adds "sir" when talking to him, and his attempt to mind fails again, as it always does.
Maybe he should talk to Sherlock about this, since he's not the first Holmes to –
He concentrates on his nephew.
Even for his infinite amounts of patience the ride seems long. Apparently he is not completely immune to the spell children seem to weave around ordinary people.
Until now he hasn't considered whether Sherlock will be a good father. He finds that he has little doubt that he will. The child may not grow up in a conventional household, but they have proven that it is not necessary to be conventional to get everything one ever wished for.
Sometimes, even more.
John and Greg are in the room when he arrives. John is holding his nephew, checking automatically if he is healthy, and the DI is waiting for his turn to hold him, grinning at the parents. Sally looks tired but happy, and Mycroft has never seen Sherlock so delighted.
He steps up to John after a quick greeting and looks at Hamish.
He is immediately struck by how much he resembles his brother, newborn and vulnerable, when he was pressed into the arms of a seven-year-old who couldn't yet comprehend what he was feeling.
"He looks just like you" he says, and Sherlock snorts as he replies, "That's not true. He's got Sally's chin".
While he is undoubtedly right, Mycroft still can't see anything but his little brother in his nephew.
He thought he would never feel protective over someone else. He was wrong.
"He knows you're related" Sally comments, "look how he's deducing you".
He could correct her, since and infant can't possibly be born with the ability to deduce, but when he sees blue eyes staring at him and Hamish's nose crinkle, he has to concede that she has a point.
He is an uncle.
Sherlock is a father.
It still seems surreal, even as he passes the child unto Greg, who, with the practice a father of a young daughter possesses, immediately begins bouncing him and mumbling nonsense.
Life goes on. He visits Baker Street at least once a week. Sometimes Anthea accompanies him, since she and Sally have become friends over the years.
Sherlock never comments on it, although Mycroft can feel his questioning glances. Since for once he cannot explain himself what exactly is going on, he opts to leave his brother to his thoughts.
Hamish is growing quickly, soon smiling and babbling.
Mycroft happens to be there when he pronounces his first word – a loud and enthusiastic "No" when Sally picks him up – and she studies him and says, "At least it's not something boring like "Mum"".
Sherlock smirks, and Mycroft detects relief that his first word wasn't something a little more unfit for a child.
Sally mumbles to herself "Enjoy your luck while it lasts" and Mycroft has to admit once more that she is the only woman in the world that could ever make Sherlock happy.
Sherlock wouldn't be Sherlock if he didn't still attempt to insult him occasionally, and he usually counters if Hamish isn't taking up his attention at the moment.
Lately, Hamish has begun to mumble something that sounds suspiciously like "Mikey" and he's sure he's trying to say his name. He suspects that Sherlock is responsible for shortening it to the nickname he abhors, but he is proven wrong.
The first time he enters the flat and Hamish cries out, "Uncle Mycroft!" Sherlock huffs, pretends to be annoyed and starts looking for a test tube. But Mycroft catches his smile and knows that it was his brother who taught his son to pronounce his name properly.
He picks up his nephew and, as always, greets him with a polite, "Hello, Hamish".
Author's note: I WILL MAKE THIS BELIEVABLE!
Hope you enjoyed, please review.