A/N: I really don't know what to say besides that this is my first story and I hope whoever decides to read it enjoys it. I am simply doing this for fun.

I, however, do not own Sherlock or any of the characters from Sherlock. Those rights go to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, BBC, Mark Gatiss, and Steven Moffat.

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(Five Years Ago)

(Emily's P.O.V.)

I was sitting in a café enjoying my coffee and reading the newspaper.

This was me enjoying my day off. The sun outside was being blocked by clouds.

I folded up my newspaper, setting it down on the table soon after, and looked out the window at the people walking by. None of them aware they were being watched by me.

Suddenly, it began to rain. People without umbrellas began searching for cover.

I couldn't help the smile that came to my face. How could they be scared of a little rain? It's not like it was going to do to them what it did to the wicked witch.

Just then, a black van caught my eye.

I watched it as it pulled up on the side of the road across from where I was.

Once it was parked, the man behind the wheel picked up a magazine and began to read it.

"Would you like anything else, Miss?" I heard the waitress ask me.

"More coffee, actually." I said, keeping my eye on the van. "Thank you."

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(Two Hours Later)

Two hours later, I was still watching the black van across the street from the café. And it was still raining outside. Except now it was heavy rain.

I was beginning to wonder if I was being suspicious over nothing, when I saw the driver suddenly perk up and his mouth move. Clearly talking to someone in the van with him.

I followed the driver's line of sight to see a man under his umbrella walking down the sidewalk toward the van.

I suddenly got a very bad feeling.

I jumped up, paid for my coffee, and bolted out the door.

However, once I was outside, that's when the men from the van got out of it, and grabbed the man.

I ran toward the van. But before I could reach it, it began to squeal away.

I took my gun out and fired at it.

But my attempt to stop the van didn't work. And it turned out of sight.

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(Present Day)

(Emily's P.O.V.)

"Ah, Emily!" Mycroft said, as soon as I walked into his office. "Back from Holiday, I see."

"That I am." I said, walking over to a chair and sitting down in front of his desk.

"How was Monte Carlo?" He asked.

"Nice." I said, smiling. Unaffected by him knowing where I had gone.

I knew what he could do. Both by himself, and with the help of his job. So, him knowing where I was for the past week, didn't

surprise me in the slightest.

Plus, I considered Mycroft a friend. And I think he considers me as a friend as well. Otherwise, I don't think he would let me get away with certain things, or told me so much about himself.

"I'm glad you had a great time." Mycroft said, a slight smile coming to his face.

"No you're not." I said.

Mycroft narrowed his eyes at me.

"You're glad I'm back so I can help you with your next assignment." I said as a fact. "What did you do for the past week without me?"

Mycroft smiled more.

"I'm beginning to think you spend too much time with me." He said.

"Well, I am as you put it, your unofficial partner." I said.

"True." Mycroft said.

"Some would even say, your very own handler." I said, teasingly.

Mycroft scowled and rolled his eyes.

"The assignment you say I need your help on, is not an assignment exactly." He said. Ignoring what I said.

"Then what is it?" I asked.

"Mummy's birthday is in three days." Mycroft said.

"And you haven't gotten her a gift yet?!" I said. "I told you before I left. I reminded you. I even told your secretary out there to remind you. How could you forget something like this?"

"It sort of slipped my mind while I tried to keep England afloat." He said, his voice expressing a hint of anger in it. Basically telling me to 'back off' in between the lines.

Anyone else would have backed off and changed the subject.

But I wasn't anyone else.

There was a reason why people had said to me, without him knowing, that I was Mycroft's John Watson.

"Don't make excuses." I said. "She's your mother. You should have gotten her a gift ages ago and you know it."

It was silent then, as we stared at each other.

"…Are you still going to go get a gift for me to give to her?" Mycroft asked, a bit of uncertainty coming through.

"…Fine." I said, giving in. "But only because she loved the last gift I picked out."

"Thank you, Emily." He said, sounding sincere. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a meeting with my brother."

"Does he know about it?" I asked, as we both stood up.

Mycroft just smiled at me.

"I'll escort you out." Mycroft said.

"I'm not meeting him again, huh?" I asked, as we both headed toward the door.

"Not today, no." He said.

"Can I ask why?" I asked.

"I just don't think he's ready to meet you." Mycroft said, clearly avoiding answering the question.

"….Ok." I said.

"Emily," He said, making me face him. "You will meet him. Just not-"

"Any time soon." I said.

"…..Yes. That sounds right." Mycroft said.

Then, he opened the door and held it open for me.

"Right." I said.

Then, I walked out of his office. Mycroft following me.