A Special Christmas
As another work day ended, Mycroft Holmes, sitting at his office, loosed up his tie and reclined back on his very expensive leather chair. It was that time again. Christmas. After such an eventful year, with so much trouble, cleaning up after stupid people, and the memory of last Christmas fiasco, he wasn't looking forward this year's festivities. He was tired, exhausted even, and with only two weeks missing for Christmas, he didn't know if he wanted to celebrate it in any way.
Going to his parents would certainly be torture. After they discovered Eurus was alive, everything they talked about was her. They had forgiven him for keeping that secret, it's truth, but the guilt still ate at him. Their animated talk, their happiness for being able to see their daughter again, only reminded him of what he had deprived his parent off for all those years. Of how many Christmas they had without her. And thought she was alive, this would be just another holiday with her absence, for Eurus still wasn't trusted to leave Sherrinford.
Go to Sherlock was not an alternative either. It was little Rose first holiday, and he only imagined Dr. Watson and his brother would want to enjoy it as a family. Mycroft didn't want to intrude at it, though he had been invited by John.
His only alternative for Christmas Eve was his home library, sat by the fire with a nice glass of scotch. He lost count of how many holidays he spent like that. Usually, he got stuck at work until the final moment, mostly fixing people's mistakes, and couldn't make the trip to his parent's house. Also, he wasn't always welcomed at sherlock's. Therefore, spending the holidays by himself wasn't anything new.
He scoffed at himself. Who was he trying to lie to? He had someone to spend Christmas with. And she was just outside his door.
He and Anthea had been dating for two years now. Though he thinks he's too old to be dating anyone, she grown to be so important to him, he can not imagine how his life would be if they came apart.
They've known each other for eight years. When she first came to work with him, he almost couldn't handle so much sass and exasperation. He only (well, mostly) didn't looked for another P.A because, though infuriating, she was impeccable doing her work. In a matter of weeks, she became an essential part of his work dynamic. Anthea had a way of switch between a joyful-bright likable annoyance, that made his life more… interesting, to the enigmatic P.A of Mycroft Holmes, who made everyone he had a meeting or the displeasure to work with, very uncomfortable and on their shoes.
Time kept passing and she became not only one of the few people he trusted, but one of the fewer of his friends. Later his emotions grew, and though he had fought against it, he found himself endeared by her. It took years more for him to accept his feelings and finally ask her on a date (though he hated the term). From there on, things escalated to the place they find themselves now.
They couldn't spend last Christmas together; she had a weeding to attend to. Which ended up being a good thing. She wasn't drugged by Sherlock and was able to came back fast enough to organize the contingency plan while he was recovering.
But there's no weeding this time. And being an orphan, she didn't have anyone to spends Christmas with. To Mycroft, it was only logical they spend it together, especially since they were together now. There was no need for any of them to be alone on Christmas Eve.
Mycroft cursed. He was letting his emotions speak louder. Again. That had only brought him problems this passing year. Anthea didn't pass her holidays alone. She got friends, others than him, who were more than happy to welcome her in their festivities.
She hadn't mentioned anything about it, so he only imagined her plans for the holiday would remain the same.
It was considerably selfish of him to desire her plans to change. He could not avoid it, though.
Mycroft glanced at his pocket watch; already past 2 am. It was time for both of them to go home. He got up of his chair, fixed his tie, collected his belongings, and left the room.
"Finished for the day, Sir?" She asked, as soon as he left the office. Anthea was at her desk, doing something in her computer. All her things were already collected; she was only waiting for him. Mycroft supressed a smile. He told her more than once she could leave when she had finished everything. He usually went on way beyond his work hours, and though her assistance was appreciated and necessary, he could manage to finish the remains of his work without her. She could go home rest with no risk to the free word.
But she never did. Anthea always waited for him.
"Yes, my dear." he answered her with a half-smile. She only nodded and stood up grabbing her purse. After turning everything off and locking the door behind them, they walked side by side to the car, as was costumery. As the driver took off, Mycroft took her hands in his, a gesture he enjoyed greatly.
She had been acting odd the whole week. Frowning when looking at him. Taking a little long to leave the room when she came to deliver a message. Even payed extra effort preparing his tea, buying those biscuits he loved. She was observing him, he knew that. But he still hadn't figure out what information she was trying to gather. Just as re remembered that, she looked at him again. He acted as if he hadn't noticed it for a minute, but he was getting curious himself.
"If you don't ask what you want to know, you might never get an answer, my dear." He said smirking.
Anthea smiled and held his hands a little tighter; an inconscient act she did when she was unsure of something, he knew.
With a quick breath she spoke, "What are you going to do this Christmas?".
It brought him some relief to know he wasn't the only one worrying about that. However, he did not have an answer for her. After his earlier contemplation, it became well established for him he wanted to spend it with her. But it was something he didn't felt comfortable to say yet.
"I was invited by both my parents and Sherlock. I'm not tempted to accept either of their invitations." He said as a matter of fact.
"Well, if you up for it, we could make something for us." She said grinning, and added "I cook."
"Anthea, my dear. We both know there are only a small diversity of dishes you can successfully prepare." He said smirking, already more at ease knowing she too wanted to spend Christmas together.
She laughed, "Don't worry, I have some ideas." There was a hint of mischief on her eyes. Mycroft was well used with her silly ideas, so much it didn't faze him anymore. And he trusted her, so whatever she came up with for Christmas, he knew it wouldn't be something that made him uncomfortable.
He knew he was a man of many peculiarity, and it never ceases to amaze and surprise him how Anthea knew, understood and accept all of that.
"Whatever you say." He said playfully turning his eyes. In truth, he was happy now that they would spend the holidays together. And that alone was enough. "Just tell me if you require assistance with something." He added.
"I will." She said grinning.
The cars stopped at her door. They said their goodbyes with a quick, but sweet kiss, and she left to her flat.
As soon as she was gone, he let a smile take over his face. He almost never admitted it, but Christmas had always been his favourite season. Some of his best memories as a child, was of the Holidays with his family. It pained him that so many of his last Christmas were spent so lonely, so much that he almost lost the joy for it. Spend this Christmas with Anthea had made the feeling reborn in him. And he was already grateful for it.
December 24th came, and he was very excited, more than he wished to express. They had agreed the would do their festivities at his house. She arrived early that day, full of grocery bags. They shared the tasks. She took care of decoration and he ended up preparing dinner (thanks to however entity resided in heaven).
By the evening, when everything was ready, he was by the fire with a glass of wine, when he heard Anthea coming down the stairs. He turned around and his breath caught. She was wearing a knee-length red dress and hells that accentuated her silhouette. Her hair was loose in natural curls, with make up only enough to bring out her already existent beauty. A drop pendant neckless laid own her cleavage, giving the final touch.
She was stunning.
"You're beautiful" he said almost in a whisper, yet to recover his voice.
She laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself."
As soon as she finished that sentence the bell rang. He looked at her, confused. "Are we expecting someone?" Anthea only smirked in response and walked to the front door. The moment she opened he couldn't believe his eyes. But in truth, he should have deduced it. She did had a mischief gleam on her eyes since they agreed to spend Christmas together, and he knew she was up to something.
His whole family was there. Mommy, his father, Sherlock, Dr. Watson and Rose, even Mr. Hudson.
"Myc, my boy." His mother came to him and kissed him on both cheeks. He was too surprised to react at first, but soon recovered his posture.
"Hello, Mommy." He said kissing her too.
Her mother laughed noticing his surprize. "It was all Anthea's idea. She thought we all needed a family Christmas after such a difficult year." She explained, sending Anthea a fond smile.
"I'm highly impressed she did it without you knowing." Sherlock said, "Are you losing your touch, brother dear?" He asked, always so exasperating.
"Believe me, I'm as impressed as you" He said, not looking to his brother, but to the woman that put this all together. The person that never ceased to astonish him.
They all had dinner, drank and talked about trivial things. At midnight they exchanged present and gathered by the fire, remembering tales of passed Christmas. Mrs Hudson was a tad drunk, his parents had happy smiles on their faces, even with Eurus absence, John couldn't have enough of the Sherlock's old stories Mommy was telling, and his brother had a sleeping Rose on his arms.
Mycroft smiled to himself. That had been the best Christmas of his life. He leaned to Anthea, by his side, and said into her ear. "I don't say this very often, but I love you."
She looked at him for a minute, and smiled. "I know. I love you to.", and kissed him sweetly, making Sherlock turn his eyes and his mother coo.
He passed his arm across her shoulders, reclined back and enjoyed the rest of a perfect Christmas.