A/N:This story is similar to "Esurientes Implevit Bonis" in that it is from Mycroft's POV. Just a little Christmas story I wrote for fun and includes most of the major characters from BBC's Sherlock, plus a few of my OCs introduced earlier in my series. Happy Christmas all!
Warnings:m/m pairings and some adult subject matter, but no explicit content.
Beta:Jarri Scythe - please send her happy thoughts for finals week!
A Very Mycroft Christmas
Mycroft Holmes awakened early on December 24th feeling very content with himself and the world. He spent a few moments luxuriating in his warm, comfortable bed before getting up. He reviewed his plans for the next few days, and reflected on the successes of his plans so far.
Very few would suspect it, and not even the most gruesome torture would make him admit it aloud, but Mycroft knew himself to be deeply sentimental in nature. Because of this, he was glowing with satisfaction over the achievement of having engineered a Christmastide that had every possibility of being the most happy and satisfying of his life since his mother's murder.
His son and the boy's mother were now living with him full time, and the arrangement was so far working out beautifully. Sherlock was now happily involved with John Watson, and their relationship seemed to have a most promising future. They would be coming over late in the evening, after the Christmas Eve service Sherlock still insisted on attending every year. They would be accompanied by John's sister Harriet, who was staying with them temporarily whilst finishing a semi-supervised alcohol rehabilitation program. They were all three going to spend the night in order to participate in Christmas morning with Mycroft's son Tim.
For the first time since moving into his house, Mycroft would have every bedroom occupied that night. It filled his heart with a feeling of warmth and satisfaction which was difficult to define. It wouldn't be tolerable to have a crowded house for an extended time, but Mycroft felt a deep happiness in successfully gathering all those he cherished to him to celebrate for these few days.
Christmas dinner tomorrow would see the party grow even larger with the addition of Sherlock and John's landlady Mrs. Hudson and the unexpected, but very welcome presence of Detective Inspector Lestrade. It was Lestrade who was going to pick Mrs. Hudson up from Baker Street and bring her to Mycroft's, as John and Sherlock would already be here. Apparently John had discovered that both Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade were going to be left alone for Christmas, and had appealed to Mycroft to remedy the situation, which Mycroft was happy to do.
Mycroft burrowed a little more deeply into his pillows as he thought about the silver-haired detective inspector. Having Lestrade for Christmas dinner was something he looked forward to, but felt just the tiniest bit conflicted over. Because, as much as he found Lestrade attractive and would love to spend more time with him, lately Margaret had been occupying much of Mycroft's thoughts.
There were her obvious attractive qualities: she was physically beautiful; she was an excellent mother to Tim and very intelligent - with a quick wit and warm heart. Possibly most bewitching, however, was her recent change of attitude toward Mycroft. Once Mycroft had taken John's wise advice and backed away, Margaret had come to him.
The turnaround had really been quite quick. Looking with hindsight, it really was not so surprising. Margaret's father had dominated her life. Now that he was gone, Mycroft had come along as a fairly suitable replacement. It was almost a little frightening, when looked at objectively, how quickly Margaret had come to trust and depend on a man who had been a complete stranger mere months before.
This left Mycroft with a bit of a sweet quandary. He had himself quickly grown to love his son as much as any father, which left him of course pre-disposed to feel affection toward the mother. But was it right for him to claim her? Even if she wished to be his? She was so much younger, and had made very few of her own choices in her life so far.
Mycroft closed his eyes and breathed deep, calming breaths. Here, in the brutal honesty of his mind, he freely admitted that the role of father/lover to Margaret was very exciting. Mycroft supposed it was "wrong" of him to feel that way, but if it made both Margaret and him happy, was there real harm? It had been a struggle his entire adult life to stitch together the family Mycroft finally now had. It was a bizarre and wounded series of relationships and circumstances that bonded these legacies of the Galton Society. No one had the right to judge them, decided Mycroft.
Mycroft smiled, and got out of bed. As he collected his clothes and showered he continued to reflect on how much becoming a "family man" had changed him. He was so thankful that he had found Tim and Margaret, in spite of the heavy burden of knowledge about the Society that came with them. There were certain aspects that Mycroft hadn't shared even with Sherlock. Like the participation of the Moriarty family, for instance. Some things that even he, himself, refused to pursue. Such as the unsettling physical similarity of Sherlock and Margaret. If Tim was the product of inbreeding between the two families, Mycroft decided that in some cases, ignorance was indeed bliss. After all, there was nothing to be done now, none of this had been his choice. Mycroft had Tim examined by top experts in all fields and was deemed to be perfectly healthy. That was all Mycroft needed to know.
I never thought I would see a day when there was something I wouldn't want to know, mused Mycroft as he scrubbed his back with his long-handled loofah.
As he completed his shower and dressed, Mycroft continued to puzzle over his simultaneous attraction to both Margaret and Lestrade. Which would be a more suitable choice for all parties concerned? He eventually shelved the issue to be considered later. Right now, he had baking to do.
Mycroft spend a very pleasant Christmas Eve with his son and Margaret, all working together in the kitchen for tomorrow's Christmas dinner. The biggest task was assembling the small army of mince pies. Mycroft was determined that each member of the party would have their own small pie.
While Mycroft put together the filling, Tim and Margaret worked on putting the bottom crusts in the little tins. Once the pies were in the oven, it was time to get to work on the red-currant jelly. This ended up being a much longer process than in previous years and by the end Tim had a suspicious red stain around his mouth.
Eventually, however all was completed. The only things left were the items Mycroft would need to cook tomorrow: the magnificent goose, the potatoes to roast along with the vegetables, and then assembling the trifle. The Christmas pudding had been setting for weeks already, and tomorrow Mycroft would douse it in brandy and light it just before serving.
The meal appeared to be shaping just as Mycroft had planned and he reflected that having his two helpers in the kitchen may have slowed the process, but made it much more enjoyable. Watching Tim bustle importantly about his assigned tasks brought Mycroft innumerable memories of his own single-digit years, helping Mummy in the kitchen. He got dangerously close to becoming downright misty at times.
The worst was when he discovered Margaret watching him swallow around the lump in his throat. She gave him a glowing smile and came and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. He buried his face in her hair and reminded himself that he was Mycroft Bloody Holmes! And not susceptible to maudlin sentimentality.
He needed to pull himself together before the arrival of Sherlock, or his brother would spot his emotional state and there would be no end to his merciless mockery.
Mycroft hummed happily to himself as he washed up in the kitchen while Margaret and Tim went to make sure the guest rooms were ready.
This Christmas would indeed be much better than all those years with just himself and Sherlock. Those events had largely consisted of grim silence punctuated by verbal jousting.
This year would be different. This year the Holmes brothers would be part of a family.
To be continued...
A/N: This is getting longer than I originally thought, so at least one more chapter to come...
