In truth, Mummy Holmes is not really that mysterious of a character. After Papa Holmes passed away not long after Sherlock's fourth birthday, she did not marry again and set to work in raising both her boys to be polite and helped then to hone the deductive skills. She ensured they always got what they wanted (and even taught them a few tricks to get things from other people), and to appreciate what they had. The boys also learned a lot from Mummy's line of work, the main thing being their impeccable sense of dress. Even now, while Sherlock has John and Mycroft the British Government, Sherlock and Mycroft both stay in contact with her since she left on her trip to see the world, occasionally flying out to wherever she is to visit.
Mummy Holmes was a fashion designer. Both her boys grew up wearing the best and most fashionable clothes, often the envy of Mummy's circle of friends. As a treat, she took both her sons to shows. Sherlock always enjoyed attending with Mummy, and continued to do so well into his twenties, unlike Mycroft, who had opted out in his early teens. Sherlock liked to study the way the models walked and how the different fabrics moved, and if he behaved and kept his deductions of the attendees to himself, she let him choose one piece of clothing to buy and take home. Sherlock always pulled a face at Mycroft when they got home.
At a Belstaff show one January, Sherlock had had a lot of trouble deciding, flitting from coats to jumpers to shoes, but finally he had chosen a pair of black leather gloves, spending their journey home touching the soft material.
Two days later was Sherlock's twenty-first birthday. He had taken to wearing his coat and new gloves around the house, saying he was feeling the cold this winter. Mummy had smirked over her morning coffee said, "in that case I'd best give you your present sooner rather than later."
Sherlock looked up from his half eaten toast and pulled his eyebrows together.
She drank the last of her coffee and stood, depositing her mug in the sink and going to one of the cupboards, brought out a large, wrapped present. She placed it on the table in front of her youngest son and sat opposite him, "go on then."
"Why was it in the cupboard? Didn't you think I would find it?" Sherlock asked, pushing his plate away and pulling the present closer.
"Because, love, I knew there was no chance in hell that you would voluntarily go into the cupboard we keep the cereal in."
Sherlock nodded, seeing the truth in it, and started pulling at the tape on the paper. He carefully pulled it open to reveal a dark grey, wool coat.
"This is…" Sherlock breathed as he ripped away the rest of the paper.
"The coat you were going to choose instead of those gloves?" Mummy smiled, "I saw you looking at it and since this is an important birthday I thought I'd treat you."
"When did you get it?" Sherlock asked, stroking the fabric, "I didn't see it in the car."
"When you were off deciding between which gloves you wanted. I spoke to them and had it sent to the hosue so you wouldn't see it." She watched him unfold the coat, "I removed the fur," she continued, "I didn't think you would want it, and I thought you would suit it better without. I still have it if you want it."
Sherlock touched the lapels, "I see you also added your own personal touch."
Mummy smiled and stood to walk around the table to Sherlock. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss into his messy hair, "I thought it was a bit plain without it, and I know how you dislike plain things."
He carefully touched the small red buttonhole, sewn in by hand, Mummy did so dislike all the new fangled sewing machines and avoided using them if she had to.
"Right over your heart, my love. So you never forget that even in your darkest times, there are people who love you," she gently squeezed Sherlock's shoulders, "come on, try it on," she encouraged.
Sherlock grinned and dropped his old coat onto the table. He threw the new Belstaff around his shoulders and did a little twirl, smiling at how well it fit and the way the material moved around his legs.
"Suits you," Mummy smiled, "makes you look very mysterious."
He turned the collar up and twirled again, only then leaning forward to kiss Mummy on the cheek, "thank you Mummy. I love it."
Mummy slapped Sherlock's arm, "don't get used to it, back to one piece per show after this."
Sherlock laughed.