Mmm, warm. And safe. And oh, so comfortable. I hardly noticed the hand that caressed my cheek or the kiss that was placed on my brow as I slipped through that gossamer veil between wake and sleep into that ephemeral realm of joy and contentment. There were no nightmares or loneliness, only sweet promises of affection and protection.

Sometime during the night I had curled up against him, laying my head upon his shoulder. Now that the sun was peaking over the horizon, he held me in his arms, looking down at me as I let my eyes flutter open. I yawned and stretched, feeling the protest of sore muscles and a pleasant chafed sensation in a certain intimate area, a testament of our carnal activities.

We greeted each other with the sweet caress of lips and a gentle tangling of tongues. Breaking the kiss, he whispered, "Good morning," before he ducked down and swept my nipple into his mouth. He teased and suckled on one, then the other, until heat pooled between my legs and I moaned. Below, I felt a finger ghost back and forth over my clitoris as his teeth nipped and tugged at my breast. And before I knew it, I was writhing in ecstasy as wave after wave of orgasm swept over me.

I was still feeling as if my limbs were boneless when room service knocked on our suite door. Mycroft donned his dressing gown before he threw the duvet over me and shut the bedroom door lest the poor delivery boy glimpse my nude form as he wheeled the breakfast laden tray into the sitting area.

Mycroft returned to the room with a cappuccino and a brioche roll in hand. "Do you want to eat, Serena?"

"Not yet," I hummed, still riding the high of a spectacular orgasm. "I can't feel my toes."

Mycroft chuckled and I heard a flurry of buzzes as he cut his phone on. Last night he had sent a text to Anthea telling her he would have his phone off, but if she thought a situation had arisen that couldn't wait until the morning she could call my phone.

I closed my eyes and tried to catch the edge of a doze as he replied to texts and emails. I don't think I must have slept more than fifteen minutes at the most when I felt a full bladder demanding I get up.

When I got back from the bathroom and pulled on my dressing gown, Mycroft was sitting on the edge of the bed talking to someone on his phone. "Yes, tell the Prime Minister that I am aware of the situation and have my best people on it... Yes, thank you. Oh, and Anthea, tell Lady Smallwood I will take her request into consideration when I get back... Alright, yes, goodbye."

"Do we need to go back?" I wasn't certain what classified as an emergency in his world, was this one?

"No, Serena. It pays to have good people working for you. Anthea is more than capable of handling the Prime Minister."

I laughed at the thought of the Prime Minister wanting to talk to Mycroft and being held at bay by the lovely Anthea. "She's quite the PA, isn't she? She certainly goes the extra mile."

"Yes," he answered me, giving me a stern look. "What, Serena?"

I tried to keep a straight face and knew I was failing miserably. "I don't imagine buying condoms for the boss' romantic liaison is clearly stated in many job descriptions?"

He shot me a 'go to hell' look. "That had nothing to do with me. What she and Timothy do behind my back… I had nothing to do with that," he repeated. "I cannot help that they like to meddle in my private life."

I smiled and watched him fidget nervously before getting up to set his half eaten pastry on the tray. He wasn't angry at them, I think he was embarrassed that he hadn't thought of the need himself. I knew that if he had been angry at them, they would no longer be employed. Mycroft liked to run a tight ship and was intolerant of insubordination. "Mycroft, I have a feeling that the gesture was one of affection. I think they worry that you have no private life to speak of." I held up a hand to him, "Wait a minute, I am not done. Mycroft you eat, sleep, and breathe that job. Britain is safe because of you. But you deserve a life outside of that. They want you to be happy like they are. Anthea has Warren and Tim has Jeremy to warm their beds at the end of the day. And they want the same for you."

"Jeremy? Jeremy Greeves? My bodyguard and my housekeeper's son are..."

"Lovers? Yes. I take it you didn't know?"I asked, feeling giddy at the thought that I had noticed something he hadn't.

"No," he admitted with reluctance. "Did he tell you?"

I shook my head, "Nope, figured it out the first day after you came home from hospital. His face lit up when Jeremy would walk in the room. They confirmed my suspicion a couple of days later when I caught them kissing in the kitchen. I am surprised you haven't noticed."

"I must have noticed at some time and have deleted the information, as it is inconsequential," he huffed, glaring at me.

"Oh, come on My," I giggled. "You are not Sherlock. Besides, everyone makes mistakes, even you."

"I do not! Now change the subject," he demanded childishly.

I laughed, picking up a pastry and sitting on the other side of the bed with my legs crossed beneath me. "Alright, I'll change the subject. Last night when we were debating the need for condoms, you took a long time to answer me. What was that all about?"

"I think that should be clear." He gave me the look that said he didn't think I was using my brain at all.

"Um, well, it's not. Why did you hesitate?" The laughter died on my lips and I was a bit shorter with him than I meant to be. He was being frustratingly vague.

He sighed and turned towards me, his hair mussed and sticking up rather sexily. "Because, the thought of having children with you is not that ridiculous of an idea. I believe that the combination of my DNA with yours would produce a child of above average intelligence. Hopefully, with the right nurturing the child would be at least as smart as Sherlock."

"So, you would want to have a child with me?" Did he just tell me what I think he did?

"I believe I just made that completely clear," he raised that brow at me, looking amused and smug at the same time.

"Mycroft, do you mean having a child with me like a surrogate kind of thing where I have it and give it up to you to raise?" My mouth and throat were suddenly dry and I lay the pastry on the coffee table for fear of choking if I tried to swallow even the tiniest bite.

"Serena, I would never choose to separate a mother from her child, because I would never have a child with a woman that I would not want in my life."

My heart pounded in my chest, this time in joy. I think that was Holmes-speak for a declaration of love. I ran to him and he enveloped me in his arms. "I love you too, My."