English isn't my first language (I'm German) so I apologize for any mistakes.
It had been a long day for Mycroft, and was way past midnight when he finally made his way home. One of the perks of his job was that, no matter he practically was the government; he could still walk home on his own, if he felt like doing it, because nobody would recognize him. He was a regular guest in the Palace and probably had more connections than the prime minister, but barely anyone knew that he was the one pulling the strings.
However on this particular night, he had decided to leave his car and take a walk home, firstly because he feared the lack of fresh air during the day could affect his brain, but also to clear his head. It was only a few weeks left until Mary and John's wedding, and even though Mycroft was not exactly good when it came to human feelings, he had to admit that they seemed very happy, and to his surprise, so did his brother.
During Sherlock's absence, he had kept an eye on both of them, and actually suspected that there was something more between them, but maybe, they really just had been missing their best friend. Not that he could understand that. The closest thing to friend he had probably was his brother, who described him as his arch-enemy, so, really, Mycroft was not an expert on the friends thing.
He remembered a conversation he and Sherlock had had, in which Mycroft described all other human beings around him as goldfish. It was true, of course, but still, he wondered what it would be like to have a relationship with someone, no matter if of a friendly or a romantic nature.
When he had almost reached his house, he heard a loud sound coming out of an alley to his right; it sounded an awful lot like the suppressed cries of a woman. Not sure what to do, Mycroft hesitated for a moment, but then slowly moved into the direction the sounds were coming from. Getting closer to what seemed to be three figures, two men pinning a woman against wall.
"No, please don't, please..." he heard the woman whisper, with a crackling voice, obviously on the verge of tears.
But the men didn't listen, Mycroft, now moving faster, saw one ripping of the woman's jacket while the other one pinned her arms against the wall.
"I'd be silent of I were you honey, we can do much worse" one said and Mycroft saw the blade of knife shining in his hand. He knew he had to act quickly.
"And I would stop whatever you are planning to do" he said loud and as calm as he could. But truth was, this was not his territory. Even after rescuing Sherlock, field work just wasn't his thing. But luckily, he had learned one thing from back then, to always carry a gun.
The taller one of the man now moved in his direction with a threatening smirk on his face, and the knife still in his hand.
"And what will an old man like you do to stop us?" the guy mocked. He seemed to have mistaken Mycroft's umbrella for a cane, seeing as he probably was not even ten years younger than him.
But Mycroft just quietly took the gun out of his jacket's pocket, pointed at the man and pulled the trigger.
Just how he had planned, the bullet missed his mead only millimeters and hit the dumpster behind him.
"Leave. Now. Or the next won will be straight into your head." He had never seen anyone so baffled, but the man obeyed, the first one dropped the knife and started running down the alley, his friend let go of the woman and joined him. Mycroft held on to the gun until he heard their footsteps disappear a few blocks away. He was just about to leave, when he remembered the sobbing mess on the wall a few meters away.
"Thank you" the woman whispered, curled up to ball and still crying. If only Mycroft knew how to react to this kind of situation. He moved few steps closer.
"Nothing to thank for, really" he said, and offered her a hand to help her get up. She took it slowly got back on her feet, silently sobbing, but luckily not afraid of him.
"Of course there is, don't belittle what you did, I don't know what I would've if hadn't been for you…" She said, and broke down in tears again. Thinking what could have happened sent a shiver down Mycroft's spine, he could not tell why, but he really felt sorry for this woman, so he did the first thing that crossed his mind and tried to hug her gently. Surprisingly, she did not move away, but instead grabbed his coat und started sobbing into his shoulder, which made him really uncomfortable, but this was probably what a normal person would do, so he contained himself and carefully stroke over her back.
"Hey, everything is okay, they're gone, nothing's going to harm you", he whispered, and after a few minutes the woman got away from him and rubbed her eyes, finally not sobbing anymore.
"Oh I'm sorry I probably got my mascara all over you." She really seemed sad about that, he wondered, like he could not just give to the dry cleaning or get a hundred new ones by tomorrow. But then again, she had no idea who he was.
"Don't worry, it's no problem. But now, shall I get you a taxi? You must want to get home." He said, grabbing his phone from his pocket, but she shook her head.
"I just moved here, I currently live in hotel, down the road, but…"
"…But?"
"Well that was where-where they grabbed me…Just when I was about to get in, they grabbed from behind and-" She shivered, "I just really don't want to go back there you know…"
Mycroft was absolutely speechless at the moment, he knew from movies and observation of human behavior what would be the right thing to do, but this much display of human emotions were just simply new to him.
"Well, um… I know I am a complete stranger, but you could stay at my place tonight, if you want to." He slowly said, hoping that she would decline his offer because he would absolutely be at loss if she decided to come.
"Really?" She asked carefully. "I wouldn't want to bother you" Before he could stop himself, Mycroft answered:
"No, you wouldn't be a bother, so I take it as a yes?" She nodded.
"Okay, then join me, I live just a few blocks away", he said and maneuvered her out of alley and into the direction of his house, when he suddenly realized that she had to be cold, after all it was a pretty cold night, and after those bastard ripped off her jacket, she was only in thin dress. Silently cursing himself in his head, took his coat of, and carefully laid it on her shivering shoulders.
"What are you doing?" she asked, in confusion.
"Well I thought you had to be cold, so…" He scratched his head. This was an absolutely new situation for him, and he did not know what to do, to say, or anything really, and he did not enjoy that feeling.
"I am, thank you" Not knowing what else there was to say, he continued walking and she followed, they reached his house a few minutes later, well if wanted to call it a house it was more of an old and big mansion.
He walked up the stairs, unlocked the door and looked around, only to see her standing on the sidewalk, mouth wide open, staring at him like he was crazy.
"Aren't you coming?" he asked confused, while she suddenly seemed to remember how to walk, and now moved toward the front door.
"This is your house? Wow, I mean…This huge! What are you, the prime minister or something?" She really seemed impressed, and that didn't fade when they entered the huge entrance hall, which was lit by an ancient chandelier.
"Or something. I have a minor position in the government." Mycroft was not planning on revealing who he was, why would he, besides Sherlock and his companion no one did. He guided her upstairs and down the hall, taking much longer than he expected because she still was very shocked and turned around to admire a painting or a statue or window pretty much every three seconds.
To his surprise, Mycroft didn't mind. It had been really dark outside, so this was the first time he could actually see her. If he had been an ordinary man, the first thing he would have seen probably would have been her skinny, but still curvy body, and her undeniable pretty face. She was a little pale, with soft dark brown her, and sparkling dark blue eyes. Even though he was how he was, he could not take his eyes off her, and that meant a lot. Still, he tried to focus a bit more.
She was wearing a business skirt with a loose fitting nude blouse underneath, some delicate platinum jewelry and a pair of black high heels. She was obviously working in a good position, but nothing to formal like bank or anything with children. She had been wearing makeup before, quite a lot it seemed, since most of it was still spread somewhere in her face. She was trying to look good obviously, so she worked with customers, but not in a questionable way, like Ms. Adler had. By the way she was admiring his paintings, he could tell she knew what they were worth, and so she probably worked in museum or an art gallery. She had told him that she had just moved here, and he could see in her manicured, but chipped nails, that she had been stressed lately. She obviously was originally from England, but she had spent some years abroad. After studying? Judging by her age, which must have been early thirties, she has studied in London, and worked here, or else she wouldn't know the city as good. She spent the last years in America, East Coast, of considered the wrong time on her Phone, probably New York, since the city was known for art.
Suddenly they were at the end of the hall, and he stopped.
"We're here" he said, pointing at the door. "There's a bathroom attached, if you would like to shower. I'll be downstairs in the kitchen, if you want to eat something afterwards, feel free to join me." He was already on his way back, when grabbed his shoulder. He turned around, and she handed him his coat.
"Ah, thank you. What's your name by the way?" He should have asked this early, he guessed, but now it was necessary but it would make getting her information much easier.
"Elizabeth. Elizabeth Gray." He nodded and turned around, when she shouted:
"Wait, what's yours?" Mycroft mentally slapped himself for forgetting to introduce himself, which sane minded woman would stay with a complete stranger without even knowing his name.
"My name is Mycroft Holmes, darling", he said on his way back down the stairs, not even noticing the "darling" that had just slipped out of his mouth.