A/N : Just an idea that was running inside of my head for far too long. Hope you enjoy!

P.s The story takes place before season 1. :)

The East Wind

A few light taps upon the glass of her window snapped her attention to it. The snow had begun falling again. Sleepily, she jumped from her bed as silently as possible and stepped towards it, gazing the flakes, silver and dark, falling gently on the garden below, covering it in a large white blanket that she hadn't seen for almost a week. She let out a small breath, giggling softly as fog formed on the glass. Her pinky reached out, carefully brushing against it and drawing a straight line.

Enchanted, she looked at the light of the moon that reflected on the snow with a happy sigh. It looked as if somebody had thrown sparkly, little diamonds in it.

It was a wonderful night, she wouldn't have minded going outside, despite the apparent cold. She knew though her mother would scold her for leaving so late at night and in such a weather no less, with nobody to watch over her. She had already let her stay in a tad later than usual so she wanted to remain in her good graces for a little while longer since it was her birthday as well as Christmas in a few hours.

Sighing one last time, she got down from her pink stool that helped her get a better view from the window and she rushed back to her bed, searching for the book under her pillows. Lifting it in the air triumph fully, she slid from the light purple cover and opened the door hastily, making haste through the hallways with her parents room as her destination.

As one of her gifts for her birthday, she had asked for a bedtime story and to sleep with them the entire night. They had both happily agreed, letting her out of bed a little later than usual too.

When she got to their bedroom though; there was nobody inside. Shrugging it off though, she went to her father's office, sure that he had forgotten how much the time had passed while working. Mommy would have gone to scold and fetch him, surely. The thought made her grin and chuckle mischievously.

And so, she run towards his office, her light but hasty footsteps getting lost in the soft carpets. She didn't seem to notice the smell of smoke coming from downstairs though and continued on her merry way.

Turning around the corner, she saw the grand doors open widely. It was quite queer really, her father never let the doors open no matter how was in. Curiously, she approached them, expecting to see her mother next to the fireplace and her father on his desk…

Why is that dreams are so few, so far between? They're like mischievous children, hiding underneath nightmares and weird apparitions. These kinds of dreams are the ones where the world is finally right, where no hardships exist and everything for once makes actual sense.

And, really, why is that these rare dreams are always interrupted without fail?

Claire groaned softly and opened her eyes, blinking to get used to the sunlight before her gaze fell on the man sitting opposite of her who was just picking up his mobile to answer. Mycroft Holmes in return did not seem to care about her apparent frustration on being woken up. Instead, he stood up and motioned for her follow him. Rubbing her eyes, she looked out of the window, surprised to see that they had arrived at last.

Wordlessly, she picked up her duffel bag and followed the other man outside out his private airplane. The green fields around them, now turning slightly orange, spread as far as the eye could see and in the distance, the sun in all of its glory; surrounded by reds, oranges and dark purples was one of the most beautiful sights she had ever laid eye upon. The cool breeze blew her hair softly behind her.

She took the stairs quickly, running after Mycroft as he had almost gotten into the car that awaited for them, sure that if she was late he would just leave without her or be irritated by her childish-almost behaviour. Before he could glare at her, she settled inside, leaving her bag to the driver and gazed at the sunset once more. With a tiny, demure smile she turned to the older man before going back to her business. Though, she couldn't help but try to listen in to his conversation with whoever it was on the other line.

"For God's sake, can't you behave like a grown up for once in your life?" He murmured, rolling his eyes at the reply that came from the other side before they hung up. Exasperated, he pinched the bridge of his nose and placed his mobile back in his suit's pocket. He seemed thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head with a sigh.

"Not very happy with your phone call it seems." Claire commented crossing her legs, trying to get more comfortable on the leather seats.

"Our trip won't take too long hopefully." He replied, dodging her statement. " Anthea has bought the clothes you requested." She thanked him, grateful that she would have something else to wear once she got there but he just waved his hand as if to say it was no problem before opening his phone once again and texting something quickly.

Truth to be told, she wasn't really familiar with Mycroft Holmes. Rather, she knew next to nothing about him apart from the fact that her late father was friends with his and that he was the only one who could help her with her little problem.

She tapped her fingers tips on her knee nervously. "Are you sure we can fix this?" she questioned, looking at him doubtful.

"Of course." He said confidently, almost looking insulted at her question. Somehow, that did not really put her at ease.

"Oh and stop tapping your fingers, would you. It's giving me a headache." At that, she ceased immediately and crossed her arms over her chest.

Soon, they had reached London, just passing over Westminster Bridge and later Buckingham palace. It had been years since she had stepped foot in the city but she still remembered every little thing she used to see when she was younger quite clearly; it was as if she had never left. Nostalgia washed over her as she gazed at the decorated for Christmas shops and the people crossing the streets as they got closer to Hyde Park, which she recalled that she absolutely adored a few years ago. Anytime she was with her family in London she would beg them to go.

It was strange, being back in this city; it made her feel quite nervous on one hand but on the other she felt excited to be able to see it once more.

"It seems my brother is home at last." Mycroft murmured, gazing at his mobile. He sighed, something that he seemed to do a lot these past few hours, which she, despite not knowing him for a very long time, found out of character for him. She came to the conclusion then, that it was his brother that he had been speaking with earlier and that they might not have the greatest of relationships.

Sitting back on her sit and quitting her wistful gaze of the city. She thought of how peculiar it was to her that Mycroft had a sibling and couldn't help but wonder what kind of person he could be.

"Do you live with him, Mycroft?" She asked, leaning her head to the side a tad.

"No. But you will." He replied easily, missing the shock that flashed across her face.

"Excuse me?" Her mouth trembled. She had absolutely no idea of that arrangement. He hadn't told her anything so she had assumed she would be staying with him since he had claimed he could help her.

"I'm afraid I can't help you personally, Miss Doyle." He responded. "Do not fret, my brother will help you in my place." Though, he did not tell her if Sherlock could succeed in aiding her with what she needed. Truth to be told, helping the girl hadn't been in his plans at all. When the opportunity came up, he couldn't help but think that perhaps sending her to his brother could keep him in check; he would have something to occupy him for a while so he wouldn't fall into his drugs as he had last year.

Although the older Holmes wouldn't dare to admit it, he did care for his little brother a lot. Seeing him in the state he had been last year and sending him to rehab had almost been soul wrecking but it was something that had to be done. As much as he tried to convince himself he had helped Sherlock so their parents wouldn't worry, he knew, deep down, that he had been very concerned about him. That was the reason why he had decided to keep a very close eye to him after his treatment was over and the reason why he was sending young Claire Doyle to him.

The seventeen year old, to his surprise, was very quiet and calm. He had deduced from the start, delightfully so, that despite her submissive nature she could be very determinated and stubborn should she chose to. The kindness in her eyes was very clear too. She was quite smart as well, not as much as him though. Perhaps, a little close to Sherlock's level but not quite, not yet. Nevertheless, it was sure that she wouldn't be an absolute bore to his brother.

It didn't take long until they arrived at their destination. The two got out of the car, staring at the large red building in front of them.