NOTE: What started as a drabble turned into a full-fledged look at a Holmesian Christmas season! I wanted this to be up for Christmas, but although it is a bit late, I hope you enjoy it!
1 December
It was nearly 11pm when Mycroft walked through the front door of the Holmes family townhouse. He was greeted by silence, which was only to be expected at this time of night as the rest of his family was either sleeping or, in the case of Sherlock, entertaining himself upstairs. Hopefully he wouldn't damage anything in the process!
Deciding a cup of tea was just the thing to soothe him after a long day of trying to prevent world wars, Mycroft quickly shed his coat and placed his umbrella in the stand by the door. With tea in mind, he set off towards the kitchen at the rear of the house but was stopped by a small light and bit of movement as he passed the sitting room. Deciding to investigate, Mycroft entered the sitting room to find someone attempting to light a fire in the fireplace.
It was not just any someone, however. It was a particularly small person who had absolutely no business playing with matches or fireplaces! "Rosenwyn!" Mycroft called. He quickly crossed the room with long strides, coming to stand over her with his hands on his hips.
The little girl in question jumped at the sound of her big brother's voice before whirling around to look at him. With wide eyes and the flush of guilt all over her face, Rose was still holding the box of matches in one little hand as Mycroft came to stand over her, looking anything but pleased.
"What in heaven's name are you doing little lady?" Mycroft asked sternly. He took the box of matches from her hand, slipping it into a suit jacket pocket for now.
Rose's eyes fell on the ground as her face flushed even brighter. "I was trying to make a fire."
"Clearly. You are five years old, Rose. How old do you have to be to build a fire by yourself in this house?" Mycroft's eyebrow quirked as he waited for an answer.
"Thirteen," Rose said softly. "I wanted to send my letter to Father Christmas right away, so he would have lots of time to read it and…and… everything. Please don't be mad, My!" She began shuffling her feet as she stood there under his stern scrutiny. To her, that was something of the utmost importance, and very worthy of breaking the rule about matches and fire building! Her brother obviously did not think so.
Mycroft rolled his eyes. "That's a thoroughly ridiculous reason to break rules, and be out of bed well past your bedtime. Safety rules are non-negotiable in this house and I know you are aware of that Rosenwyn. God knows I tell you that at least four times a week," he grumbled.
Rose bit her lip slightly before murmuring an "'m sorry," her eyes still focused on the floor.
Sorry she was caught, more likely, he mused. "Little girls who try to light fires all by themselves get their bottoms set on fire instead," Mycroft told her ominously. "We are going to my study this very minute and you are getting a very big spanking."
"Nooooo," Rose whined, giving a little stomp of her foot. "Don't want a spanking!"
"Yes, you are getting a spanking. If you don't want one, don't break the rules. It is truly that simple, sister mine," Mycroft stated very firmly. He reached out to take her hand and began walking with her towards his study. Rose whined, pleaded, and dragged her feet the whole way but he refused to be deterred. She could have been very seriously injured if he hadn't come home when he did.
He maneuvered the protesting girl towards his desk and took a seat in the chair. Still holding her hand, Mycroft removed the letter that started the whole thing from her other hand and placed it on his desk. "We have rules in this house for a reason, Rose. Safety rules are supposed to do what?" he asked, in a firm but gentle tone.
"Keep everybody safe," Rose said in a tiny voice.
Inwardly Mycroft sighed at her little voice; it made her seem as tiny as her height did! But she was five, very nearly six, and the impending spanking was well deserved for such naughtiness. "Very good, Rose. What happens when we don't follow the safety rules?"
Rose sniffled just a bit, her eyes finding the floor again as the hand that had held the letter began to scrunch up her nightgown. "Spanking," she whispered.
Mycroft sighed heavily. Rose was always the most miserable looking little thing when she was in trouble! "Yes; when you break the rules about safety, you get a spanking. And you broke a very serious safety rule so you are going to have a very big spanking because of that. Do you understand?" The spanking would of course not be severe, but Rose was still young enough that the gloom and doom threats could go a long way.
The little girl nodded, her curls bouncing as she did so, looking so very pitiful that Mycroft couldn't help but let her cuddle up to his side for a moment. "It's because Mother and I love you that we have these rules, so that you are safe from harm. We'd miss our Rose if something happened to you." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and patted her shoulder. "Alright, there will be more cuddles when it's done," he said after a moment.
Rose was short enough, and Mycroft and his chair tall enough, that she couldn't quite get over his knee without help. As he assisted her, Rose began to cry before she was even completely settled in for a proper spanking. Mycroft forced himself to ignore it and lifted her nightgown up and out of the way before pulling her pants down to her knees. Yet another sigh escaped him when he rested his hand against her bottom. It was so large in comparison! Such a tiny, delicate little one he had the care and keeping of. Part of that care and keep, however, was bound to be unpleasant.
"My, 'm sorry!" Rose pleaded as he raised his hand. "No, My! Don't spank!" She yelped when his hand descended and quite firmly smacked her tender bum, causing her to squirm a bit in response to the sting.
Mycroft's hand brought quite a lot more stinging to bear on the small bottom over his lap. For a few swats in a row, he covered both cheeks with his hand and then moved to give attention to each in turn, smacking first the right, then the left. From crest to crease and even the tops of her thighs, his hand turned the pale skin a bright, sore red, drawing wails and tears from Rose. To her it must seem as if the spanking went on forever, but Mycroft was moderate and measured in its delivery, ensuring he didn't harm her yet made certain she would remember this spanking. In whole, it couldn't have been more than two dozen sound smacks, but he was well aware that could feel like a thousand at Rose's age.
Rose howled and wailed as if she was being murdered, hardly even noticing when Mycroft stopped smacking and put her clothing back to rights. As soon as he lifted her up into his arms, Rose pressed her face against his neck and cried.
"There, there, poppet," Mycroft murmured as he patted her back. "I know, it smarts and stings quite a lot, but that's so much better than being burnt, isn't it?" He rocked her gently in his arms, letting Rose cry for as long as she needed to. "You are all forgiven and I will always love you, no matter how many ridiculous things you do Rose. Always."
He wasn't entirely certain how long they sat in his study together with Rose cuddled close but she was nearly asleep when Mycroft heard a knock at his study door. "Come in," he called softly. He was completely unsurprised when Sherlock opened the door and stepped into the room.
"I thought… Ah, so I did hear," Sherlock murmured. He glared at Mycroft, clearly cross that the eldest Holmes would be harsh with the littlest.
"She was trying to light a fire in the sitting room, brother mine. Hardly an offense to let go with a scolding," Mycroft pointed out, giving his brother a frown in return.
"Tsk," Sherlock clucked as he crossed the room. Without so much as a by your leave, he plucked Rose out of Mycroft's arms and cuddled her close. "Was Mycroft quite mean to you?" he murmured, carrying the sleepy girl towards the door. "My poor Rosie. Don't worry, I'll get you all tucked up in bed snug and warm." As quickly as Sherlock had appeared he was disappearing upstairs with Rose in his arms, ready to play his role as the softer, fun brother and leave Mycroft to himself.
It was hardly unusual, so Mycroft didn't do more than roll his eyes and allow Sherlock to abscond with the baby. Only then did his attention return to the offending bit of paper that started the whole mess: Rose's letter to Father Christmas. Resolving to help her build a fire and send it in the morning, Mycroft picked up the letter to look at it. It was all very typical, the usual greetings and promises that she had been a very good girl all year long and would very much like some sweeties in her stocking on Christmas Eve. Promises to leave biscuits and carrots out for Father Christmas and his reindeer, and finally, the list of things she 'wanted most in all the world.' That was his poppet, with a flair for the dramatic. As his eyes scanned the surprisingly short list, Mycroft's attention was drawn by one request in particular:
A doll from the American Girls collection, like my friend Louise got from her auntie in the States for her birthday.
Mycroft never paid attention to dolls, particularly those that made their way in and out of the Holmes townhouse with Rose and her little friend. They borrowed one another's dolls, played hospital with the dolls, traded clothing and did all manner of things with their dolls. He could never keep track of anything and quite often all the dolls looked just alike. Not that he ever said as much to Rose, who would undoubtedly be offended if he admitted that all her dolls looked the same and he never committed their names to memory!
Opening his laptop, Mycroft did an internet search to locate the company in question. It turned out to be surprisingly easy to find and as he scanned the pages of potential dolls- and their massive wardrobes and furniture pieces and books!- a plan began to develop.
2 December
"One more chapter," Rose murmured as she tugged at an expensive waistcoat. "One more, please?"
"No more," Mycroft responded firmly. As he spoke, he worked to disengage her hand from his clothing. "Your eyes are hardly even open and it is most definitely time for you to be asleep. More chapters will be waiting tomorrow for you and whoever puts you to bed.
The little girl let out a huff before attempting a spectacular pout. "Mean."
"Not mean." Mycroft bent down and kissed her forehead. "Practical; little girls need sleep or they become very cranky. Sleep sweet poppet."
Despite labeling him as 'mean' just a moment earlier, Rose wrapped her arms around him for a goodnight hug before burrowing under her covers. "Don't forget Teddy," she said sleepily.
With a put upon sigh, Mycroft patted the head of the bear he had given Rose the day she was born. "Goodnight Teddy."
"My! Teddy needs kisses too!" Rose pointed out indignantly.
Mycroft's eyebrow quirked. "No, Teddy does not need kisses."
"She does, or she'll cry very much and then I will have to sing to her and not go to sleep, otherwise she'll cry the whole night long," Rose explained. She sat up and held out the bear in question to her big brother. "I'll tell Mummy if you don't."
"And what do you expect our good mother to do in response to such information?" Mycroft asked, rather amused at her threat.
The littlest Holmes had clearly not expected to be asked such a question and frowned as she formulated a response. "I don't know," Rose finally admitted, her face getting a bit red. "Please My?"
Sighing once more, Mycroft gave the proffered bear a light kiss on its head. "Ridiculous child," he grumbled.
Rose merely smiled and replied, "Love you too, My. And thanks for helping me send my letter to Father Christmas this morning," she added.
Mycroft murmured a response and, with everyone kissed, books put away, and lights out, he shut the bedroom door behind him and headed downstairs. Tea was awaiting him in the sitting room, along with Maud and Sherlock.
"Mother, have you purchased any gifts for Rose for Christmas? Either from you or Father Christmas?" Mycroft asked as he poured himself some tea.
"I haven't no. I was going to do that in the next few days," Maud admitted. "Why do you ask?"
"I had any idea for a combined gift from us. Hold one moment." Mycroft disappeared into his study and returned a few moments later. "She wants one of these dolls. Apparently Louise has one?"
Maud smiled and nodded. "Louise received… this one," she said, pointing to the Caroline Abbott doll. "It's her favorite. I believe she received the book collection as well; poor Eleanor and Andrew could recite the books by heart at this point," she chuckled.
Sherlock joined his siblings on the large sofa, looking over the items on the laptop screen. "These have education potential. The historically oriented ones at least," he murmured. "You wish us to purchase one and all its paraphernalia towards her birthday and Christmas?"
"In a manner of speaking," Mycroft replied. "A doll and its books, yes. I don't necessarily agree with the rest of the items though. They are all oriented specifically towards the book set which I think is rather limiting in its scope. We could do better; provide her better items to stimulate curiosity and creativity."
"So rather than purchase the clothing and furniture we could make them ourselves," Maud said slowly. "Myc, that's a delightful idea! How very thoughtful of you! This could even become a tradition for Rose's Christmases for some time to come."
Mycroft gave his mother a genuine smile before turning to his brother. "Sherlock, how are your woodworking skills?"
"Excellent, of course," Sherlock said with a scowl. "Are you implying otherwise?"
"Boys, boys, no fighting! We're planning baby's Christmas, so let's all be kind to one another," Maud admonished. "You do wonderful woodwork Sherlock. Between now and Christmas morning, do you think you might be able to manage a doll bed and, say, a sofa and a chair? Or two chairs? If you make them, I can provide bedding and upholstery for them. Oh! You could make a bed with a trundle! When Louise comes, then her doll can have a bed that pulls out too, wouldn't that be sweet?" Maud was grinning brightly at the thought of it, while her boys stared at her as if she were a lunatic.
"Mother, are you suggesting dolls have sleepovers?" Mycroft inquired with an incredulous tone.
Maud chuckled. "Of course they do, Mycroft! Whenever Rose and Louise have sleepovers, there's always at least one doll that goes from one house to another," she pointed out. "They are Mummies and so they bring their babies, who naturally are best friends as well. It would be so very sweet if there was a pull out bed for Louise's doll from this line."
Sherlock and Mycroft exchanged a look of concern that Maud blithely ignored. "Alright, I believe I can manage to make a bed of that sort, along with a few other items," Sherlock agreed. "What else does the doll need?"
"Probably something to put the wardrobe in. A sort of trunk like we have in the attic would be ideal," Mycroft mused. "That way there won't be random doll clothing all over the house. At least in theory. I can take care of that. Mother, could you handle the wardrobe?"
"Oh certainly!" Maud agreed. "I could even make a few items for Rose to match her doll. Her Christmas dress and a nightgown perhaps. She could get those on her birthday and have a lovely surprise come Christmas morning when her doll is able to match her!" Each year Maud made Rose a special dress for Christmas, which was gifted to the littlest Holmes on her birthday so that Rose could wear it Christmas day.
"I was thinking, with some of the clothes, they could be more historically oriented," Mycroft spoke up. "Not all of them, of course, but if they are from different periods in history, or even career oriented, that would be a good way to peak her curiosity."
"Oh Mycroft, that's a brilliant idea!" Maud said with a gasp. "And that will be such fun! How many outfits should there be? Perhaps a dozen dress, a coat and nightgown?"
"You're the doll expert Mother," Sherlock quipped. "I'm sure Rose will be delighted with whatever you make her."
"Though do try not to make every single outfit pink and/or polka dotted," Mycroft added, smirking at his mother.
Maud only smiled and shook her head. "I'll try Myc! The bigger issue at hand though, is how in the world are we going to keep Baby from discovering all these projects, or finding her gifts? She's quite clever."
"We can lock completed items in the closet in my study," Mycroft offered. "She generally keeps out of there and as far as I am aware is unable to pick locks at present. Perhaps, Sherlock you could refrain from teaching her that skill until after her birthday and Christmas have passed?"
Sherlock scowled at his brother, but otherwise ignored him. It did not do to throw things at Mycroft in front of Mother! "Perhaps Father Christmas might leave a few things in her stocking? Accessories," Sherlock suggested.
"That's an excellent idea," Mycroft agreed. "I'll handle the Father Christmas gifts, the trunk, and perhaps one or two other things if we think of them in the meantime. Now, let's strategize on how to keep the baby from discovering these projects mid creation!"
5 December
Secluded in his office, Mycroft wondered why in the world he had agreed to purchase Rose's Father Christmas gifts for her stocking. Was it always this hard? What does one put in a stocking for a little girl? And what of those possible items would not give away her very special Christmas gifts from her family?
It was quite the conundrum, but slowly he was working on completing the task. Step one had been to seclude himself in his study and do some ordering of items online. It was amazing what one could purchase on the internet these days and Mycroft always found it particularly helpful. He was not the sort of man to wander children's toy stores, especially in pursuit of gifts for a girl.
Just as he was about to place the order for Rose's doll, one Samantha Parkington, and several items for the stocking, there was a knock on his door that was immediately followed by Rose entering the room.
"My! My I need your help!" Rose exclaimed, hurrying across the room towards him.
Mycroft quickly closed his lap top and turned his attention to Rose. "Is this the sort of emergency that requires the summing of fire or police?" he asked.
"No," Rose said slowly. "Why?"
"Because the polite thing to do, if it's not an emergency that requires a call to 999, to wait until I call for you to enter after knocking," Mycroft reminded her. "Shall we try it again?" His tone must have had more of a stern edge to it than he intended because Rose immediately looked crestfallen, causing him to sigh. "Go on poppet, try it again," he said more gently. "Don't worry, I'll let you in."
Head down, Rose shuffled out of the study, closing the door behind her. A second later she knocked, adding a loud "May I come in, My, please?"
Mycroft waited a few seconds before responding. "Yes you may," he called back. The door once more flew open and Rose shuffled into the room, biting on her lip. He crooked his finger at her and watched her cross the room. Once she was close enough he reached out and picked her up, settling her on his lap. "Thank you very much Rose, that was such a good girl," he praised. A smile tugged at his lips when Rose snuggled close and he immediately held her just a bit tighter.
"My, I need your help and it's very, very important," Rose said excitedly. "It's very nearly almost Christmas and I need to get presents for Sherlock and Mummy! I need to get presents for you too, but you can't help me buy your own present because then you would know and be very sad when you open your gift Christmas morning," she pointed out. "What are Mummy's favorite books? Can we get her something about her favorite books?"
"Mother's favorites are Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion by Jane Austen. They've been her favorites since she was twelve," Mycroft told her. "Did you have anything special in mind? Or should I look around and see what I can find online?" Surely there were items available pertaining to the books that Mother might enjoy.
"That's a good idea," Rose decided. "Look for something for Sherlock to get her too! And I need to get him something but I don't know what. I was gonna look in his experiment room and see if he needed anything in there, but he wouldn't even let me in at all and wouldn't tell me why either. Is he doing something naughty?"
Mycroft chuckled loudly before kissing the top of Rose's head. "Hopefully he isn't! I bet he's got secrets of his own, just like you and I will have secrets about Mother's gifts. So be a good girl if he won't let you in and won't say why," he advised.
"Oh," she said thoughtfully. "We have lots of secrets around Christmas time, don't we? Surprises are lovely."
"And someone I know has a birthday coming up. Do you know who that is?" Mycroft asked.
"Me! Me, me, me! I'll be six!" She bounced a bit in his arms.
The eldest Holmes chuckled. "It is you indeed. Now you go run and play and think about what you might like to get Sherlock and I'll look for some things for Mother that you can pick from. But I have secrets too and you're interrupting them," he admitted. "I'll come find you in a bit when I'm ready for you, alright?"
Rose nodded her agreement and hugged him tightly before sliding off Mycroft's lap and skipping out of the study.
12 December
Maud ran her hands over the sanded wood of the day bed. "Oh Sherlock, its lovely," she murmured. "This is fine work, my sweet boy. These little knobs even!" Setting the bed down on the coffee table she gently pulled on the knobs, bringing the trundle out from under the bed.
"And the specifications are correct? For an 18 inch doll? With enough room for Mother to provide the mattress and bed coverings?" Mycroft asked.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Obviously, Mycroft. I'm quite certain I know how to measure things and build them accordingly."
"Myc just wants to make everything perfect for Baby," Maud soothed, kissing Sherlock's cheek.
"I thought I might paint it to match Rosie's room; white with little pink bows along the edges here," Sherlock indicated the top of the curved backboard. "And here on the trundle. Perhaps paint the knobs pink as well?"
Attempting to make peace with his brother, Mycroft nodded. "She'd like that Sherlock. Especially since you are the one doing the decorating. It is fine work, brother mine."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow at his brother and was just about to respond when the Rose could be heard outside the front door. Grabbing up the bed he hurried upstairs and back into his experiment room to continue working on her gift.
"Mummy! You're home!" Rose called out when Mycroft let her in. She flew across the sitting room and into Maud's arms. "Did the mail come yet Mummy? I'm expecting boxes."
Maud snuggled up her little one and pressed a kiss to her curly head. "I haven't seen the mail yet, baby. Just what are you expecting, hm?" She tickled Rose a bit, making the little girl laugh.
"Secrets Mummy, Christmas secrets," Rose said. "I can't tell you. Only My knows and I swore him to secrecy and he won't tell a soul. If he does, I'm going to eat all his sweeties in his desk. He doesn't know, but I can pick the lock on that drawer. Sherlock showed me," she whispered conspiratorially.
"Of course he did," Maud replied with a sigh. "Mummy would prefer you not be picking locks in this house, so please don't do it. But I'm sure you were just being silly with Myc, weren't you?"
Rose nodded dutifully. "I was just being silly. He said he'd give me away if I told you what he got you for Christmas and I know that's not true."
This time Maud couldn't help laughing. "Yes, that does sound like something your big brother would say without ever meaning it. Now, I have a very important question for you. Two questions actually! One, would you like to help me pick out our menu for Christmas dinner? And two, can Mummy count on you to be my best helper when we cook on Christmas?"
The little girl's face lit up with a sunny smile. "Yes to both! I love cooking with you Mummy!" Rose threw her arms around Maud and nestled as close as she could, sighing with contentment. "Can we get out all your cookbooks and decide what to make, right now? We must make trifle Mummy, its mine and My's very favorite. And the little pies too, the mince ones."
"We will have both those things and more. It'll be a lovely feast for us," Maud assured her little one.
15 December
"You have out done yourself Mother," Sherlock murmured. He gently fingered the intricate midnight blue renaissance dress Maud had made for Rose's doll. "They're all beautiful. She'll be so thrilled."
Mycroft looked somewhat less enthusiastic about it. He held up a white dress with cap sleeves that featured a beautiful lace overlay and a veil. "Really Mother? A wedding dress?"
Maud chuckled and shook her head. "You should see the look on your face right now Mycroft. Don't be so concerned! It's perfectly normal for little girls to play weddings with their dolls. I did," she pointed out.
"Well there is no reason to encourage her to start thinking about that already," Mycroft grumbled. "She doesn't need any more ideas in that head of hers. She has plenty as it is, and most of them involve mischief! Wedding dress aside, I must commend you on your ability to avoid making every outfit pink and polka dotted. I had little faith you could accomplish this."
"Oh Mikey, you're ridiculous," Maud laughed. "I take it everything meets everyone's approval? I made Rose a matching nightgown and robe set and Christmas dress for her birthday." Maud indicated the soft peach colored nightgown and matching robe with matching roses on the robe.
"I thought perhaps the set of books, the bed and the doll trunk would do for the birthday gifts," Mycroft said. "Along with the clothing. She won't know what's coming; merely that she has something new for her existing dolls."
Suddenly a knock was heard at the door. "What's going on?" Rose called from the hallway. "I know everybody is in there! Can I come in too? I need someone to help me wrap gifts because Mummy says I can't use the scissors by myself!" She attempted to turn the knob and enter the room, only to find it locked. "Hey, why is everybody locking me out? That's very rude!"
"Just a moment!" Maud called back. There was a flurry of activity inside the room as clothing and furniture items were stuffed into every available space in order to keep Rose from discovering her gifts.
Finally the door was thrown open and before Rose could even look inside, Sherlock scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Rose squealed and wriggled, but he held on tightly and quickly moved her away from the room, knowing if he could get her diverted that Mother and Mycroft could lock up her gifts.
"Presents, where are the presents?" Sherlock asked.
"In my room silly! In their boxes. The scissors are in Mummy's room," Rose told him. She let out a screech as Sherlock pretended to 'drop' her, only to catch her at the last minute.
Mycroft was just about to open his mouth and give Sherlock a piece of his mind about behaving so recklessly with Rose when the child in question began giggling hysterically and calling for Sherlock to do it again. "He's going to maim her one of these days," he muttered under his breath.
"Well before he does, let's hide her gifts in your study," Maud suggested before shoving the bed into his hands.
"How do you act so blithely about it Mother?" Mycroft asked sincerely. "One of these times he really will hurt her, by accident of course, but it's bound to happen."
Maud smiled indulgently at her eldest son. "Well Sherlock hurt himself plenty of times at her age and is just fine."
"That, Mother, is debatable," Mycroft intoned.
20 December
Rose's birthday arrived on a surprisingly sunny Saturday and along with it came twelve friends from dance, including Louise Gardner. As soon as the children began arriving, Mycroft went to hide in his study, having no desire at all to spend his time with a crowd of very loud six year olds, of which his sister seemed to be the very loudest of all.
Attempting to bury himself in his work wasn't very hard considering the nature of his work. What was hard, however, was blocking the noise. Little feet ran up and down the hallways, there was squealing and laughing, every possible sound imaginable. Worse yet, his mother was determined not to let him stay out of the festivities.
"Mikey," Maud called, knocking loudly on his study door. "Rose is about to open presents and then have cake. You should come join us now."
The door opened to reveal a scowling Mycroft. "Do I have to Mother? All those children…"
"They won't hurt you Myc, I promise. It would mean the world to Baby if you came out, even just for a little bit," Maud encouraged. "Come along. You're a brave man Mycroft Holmes, you can manage a half hour among children."
With a put-upon sigh, Mycroft followed her out of his study and walked with her to the sitting room. Sure enough, twelve little children were sitting in a circle around Rose, whose pile of gifts was nearly taller than she was. As he stepped into the room, a hush fell over it as the children tried to process who this new person was, so tall and formally dressed with a scowl on his face.
"'Llo Mr. Holmes!" Louise bravely called.
"Hello Louise," Mycroft responded formally. He surveyed the group of children with a frown as he tried to determine where would be the safest to sit.
"Who's that?" one of the boys whispered loudly. "Is that her Daddy? He doesn't look very happy."
Mycroft let out a put-upon sigh and gave his mother a look.
Louise proceeded to poke the whispering boy. "That's her brother, stupid," she whispered.
"Don't call me stupid!" The boy promptly pushed Louise, who immediately pushed back even harder.
"Don't push my brother, that's rude!" A somewhat older girl commented before pushing Louise.
Within the span of thirty seconds it seemed as is every child in the room was poking, pushing or name-calling, the presence of the formidable and well dressed gentleman whose appearance started this all but forgotten.
"Children! Children this is supposed to be a happy day, let's not fight with one another over something so silly," Maud admonished. "Veronica, don't do that! Jamie, you cannot punch her, even if that is your sister and she called you a name! Really, this is inappropriate children; let's put our energy into playing a game instead! Or go right to the cake, hm? Now, Milly…"
Mycroft watched for a moment as his mother bravely tried to calm the children down before it turned into a child-like version of the sort of brawl one sees in American western films. When it became clear that no one was listening to her and the pushing was increasing, Mycroft took it upon himself to step in. First and foremost, his priority was Rose, who was caught in the middle of all this shoving and yelling nonsense, watching it was wide eyes. She was tiny compared to the others and could be hurt, so his first concern was to remove her from harm's way, namely by scooping her up and then setting her down on the couch.
"ENOUGH!" Mycroft shouted in a commanding tone.
Eleven pairs of eyes locked on the tall, angry figure in the center of the room.
"Trust me when I say there are enough corners in this house to put every single one of you in one for the remainder of the party and don't believe for even a second that I won't do just that," Mycroft threatened. "This is a birthday party, not the annual meeting of local hooligans! Apologize to your hostesses immediately or I'll start escorting you lot to your separate corners!" He watched with arms crossed over his chest, as each of the children apologized to both Rose and Mother.
"Now I do believe it's time for presents to be opened, so let's do that in an orderly fashion, shall we? We are all ladies and gentlemen here, after all," Mycroft reminded them. "Rose, come sit on the floor again and start opening your gifts. Make sure you remember to read the tag and say thank you."
An eternity passed before all the children had been picked up by their respective parents and Mycroft could breathe a sigh of relief. "Mother, I am not a child wrangler," he announced when he closed the front door for the last time.
"Well your efforts were appreciated all the same. Perhaps a smaller party next time," Maud mused.
"That might be advisable, yes," Mycroft agreed. He smiled fondly at Rose as she scampered over to him.
"My? Thanks for making everyone stop fighting so my party didn't get ruined," the birthday girl said with a smile. "That was very brave, because you were outnumbered."
Mycroft chuckled and picked Rose up, holding her close. "Did you enjoy your party anyway? I'm glad," he told her sincerely when she nodded. He had been pleased to see how excited she was earlier at receiving the bed, the doll trunk, and a little school desk that Mycroft had found online.
Rose kissed his cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you for my gifts My! I don't think I have any dollies big enough for the bed and desk though, but it's okay if they are small dolls, right? Like me, I'm very small."
"Precisely so. You are the perfect size for one Rosenwyn Holmes," Mycroft assured her. "Plus, you never know what Father Christmas might bring you," he added in a conspiratorial whisper. He couldn't help smiling at the joyous look on her face at such a possibility.
"Did you see my Christmas dress? And my pajamas? Mummy made them both for me! She made the bed set too, and she's been hiding it for ages," Rose told him. "I love Christmas secrets best of all."
"No, I did not see! Will you show me what Mother made you? Mother's a fine seamstress," Mycroft commented, giving his tired Mother a smile. He set Rose down and watched as she ran off to find her gifts.
Rose showed off the pajamas, but it was the dress of which she seemed most proud. Then again, Rose always loved her Christmas dresses. This one was made of a floral vine print in wine and gold on white with a wine colored bodice. The sleeves were contrast cuffs in the vine print. "I've even got a hat and it's vintage, My!"
"Vintage inspired, Baby," Maud corrected with a smile. "A bit of an updated Edwardian style. I thought my little love would look very smart in it and the colors would be quite pretty for Christmas." Rose's excitement over the holiday and her special gifts made Maud smile brightly.
22 December
"Would you mind picking up your end a bit more, brother mine?" Mycroft grumbled, straining under the weight of a massive pine tree. Whichever bloody German thought this tradition was the one to make stick ought to be shot, he mused inwardly.
"I am!" Sherlock shouted back from the opposite end of the tree. "No! No wait! ROSE!"
Icy fear filled Mycroft's veins as he looked over to see Rose dash out the door in just her slippers and nightgown and that infernal tinsel she always insisted on wearing. She narrowly missed running smack into Sherlock who attempted to move his end of the tree out of the way before she smashed into it. With a strangled cry, Sherlock's feet slid out from under him and he, along with the top end of the tree, fell onto the ground.
Mycroft immediately dropped his end of the tree and ran over to Sherlock who was gasping for air. Thankfully the tree had not fallen on Sherlock, but it had been a narrow miss indeed. "Are you injured?"
Sherlock shook his head. "Got the wind knocked out of me," he wheezed. "Uninjured."
The littlest Holmes, completely oblivious to her big brother's distress, was jumping and leaping around the tree. She reached out her hands to touch the green branches, somehow impervious to the cold winter air all around her. "It's perfect! And you were hardly gone for very long at all! It must have been waiting for you," Rose decided. She skipped over to her brothers, stopping short when she saw Sherlock on the ground. "What happened?"
"You happened, sister mine," Mycroft responded. "You know better than to be near the entry way when we're bringing in the tree. And here you are in slippers and nightclothes! Whatever is going on in that silly head of yours? Back inside with you and stay out of our way!" He added a hearty smack to her bum that propelled her towards the front door, ignoring Rose's indignant yelp.
"I could help," Rose told him with a pout. She made a dramatic show of rubbing her bottom as she headed towards the door.
"You can help by going inside and staying well out of our way," Mycroft told her. "If I see you out here while we're still wrestling with this tree, I will personally cancel Christmas."
Rose let out a gasp, her eyes growing round and wide. "Cancel Christmas? But… but you can't do that! Only Father Christmas could do that and he would never!"
Mycroft gave her a stern look, arching an eyebrow. "Do you want to find out if I can? Or do you want to go inside the house like you were told?" He nodded with approval when Rose turned around and dashed into the house, fleeing like a fawn in the woods.
As soon as Rose disappeared inside the house, Sherlock began laughing. "Cancel Christmas! The look on her face!" He sat up slowly, holding his belly as he did so.
"Shut up and get up from the ground already, Sherlock," Mycroft snapped. "We still have a tree to get into the sitting room!"
"Tinsel belongs on the tree Rosenwyn, not on you," Mycroft commented as Rose dashed by for the umpteenth time. She was followed shortly thereafter by Sherlock, who was hurling plastic Christmas bulbs at her while she squealed and attempted to dodge them.
"Thief! Christmas thief! Stealing our tinsel! You shall be caught and punished!" Sherlock as chased and tossed ornaments at her from a giant box he was carrying.
"Mother is trying to rest!" Mycroft called out. "Both of you quiet down!" He was blithely ignored by his younger siblings. "Sherlock if you throw one more bulb at Rose, I swear I will make you regret it!"
Smirking delightedly, Sherlock continued to throw ornaments at Rose, grinning as his sister dissolved into giggles and crawled under the kitchen table to get away from him. She snatched up discarded ornaments and tossed them back at Sherlock from under the table.
"SHERLOCK! ROSE!" Mycroft thundered as he entered the kitchen after them. "If you both don't settle down and stop throwing things by the time I count to three, there are going to be serious consequences! One…" A vein in his temple throbbed as they continued to ignore him.
"Two…"
The siblings looked over at Mycroft, then at one another, sharing a smirk.
"Three!"
As soon as the word left Mycroft's mouth, the younger Holmes siblings tossed a final ornament at one another.
"That is it. I'm getting the naughty stick and there will be spankings!" Mycroft turned around and exited the kitchen with a determined pace.
Once more Sherlock and Rose locked eyes with one another, but rather than twinkle with mischief, their eyes grew wide with alarm. "Mycroft, that's really not necessary. We've stopped now!" Sherlock called, chasing after the eldest Holmes.
Rose was hot on Sherlock's heels. "My, we were just playing, please don't be mad!" Her small feet fairly flew across the floor to keep up with her brothers and she skidded to a stop just in front of the hall closet. The door was already open and Mycroft had located the infamous naughty stick, which looked as scary as Rose had always thought it would be!
Twenty-four inches long, an inch wide and (rather deceptively) only half an inch thick, Rose had it on good authority that the walnut 'naughty stick' packed a mighty sting. The only serious spanking implement that the country house boasted, it had originally been purchased and given to Maud as a gag gift by William, back when Sherlock had been much younger and always in trouble. Little did he expect that Maud might actually decide to use it one day and discover it to be quite an effective tool for correcting serious misbehaviors that begged for more than a good dose of the spanking spoon.
It was quite the fearsome implement and Rose herself vividly remembered Sherlock being escorted into Mycroft's office last year at Christmas time and the naughty stick had reduced her brave big brother to tears. Rumor even had it that even Mycroft himself had had a dose of the naughty stick long before she was born. Surely My wouldn't use such a nasty thing on her bottom!
Unwilling to take the chance that he might, Rose decided to play peacemaker. Crossing the distance between them, she tugged hard on Mycroft's right arm. "We'll stop now," she pleaded. "We'll clean up and we'll be very, very good. We were just playing, and not with the glass ones," Rose pointed out. "Please don't be mad, we're very, very sorry."
Mycroft looked down at Rose, feeling his heart melt just a bit at the look of sincere pleading his baby sister wore.
"We're really sorry and we'll be very good. And it's Christmas My!" Rose added, tugging on his arm again.
"Are we sorry?" Sherlock asked, looking down at Rose with a smirk.
More than fed up with Sherlock's instigating such deplorable behavior, particularly while Mother was trying to rest, Mycroft lightly smacked Sherlock's thigh with the naughty stick.
The younger Holmes brother yelped and immediately began rubbing at the smacked spot, giving Mycroft a scowl. "Alright we are sorry. It was just a bit of silliness but we'll stop now," Sherlock offered. "There's no need to be a scrooge Mycroft."
"Fine," Mycroft decided with a sigh. "All I wanted was for us to decorate the tree while Mother rested and surprise her with it, not create noise and havoc all over the place down here. I want you both to promise that there will be no more throwing of anything at one another." When promises were given, Mycroft put the spanking implement back in the front closet.
The littlest Holmes rewarded her big brother with a smile before hurrying off to collect all the ornaments that had been strewn about.
"You wouldn't really use that on Rosie, would you?" Sherlock asked quietly when Rose was out of hearing range.
"Heavens no!" Mycroft hurried to assure him, looking rather aghast at the very idea of it. "At least not for several years yet. She's very small and young Sherlock, and I always take that into account no matter how much she misbehaves. Yet if the very thought of me potentially smacking her bottom with it entices her to behave, I'm quite alright with that. You two really are the very bane of my existence at times, do you know that?"
"We try," Sherlock smirked. "Well, I try, and Rose is always quick to follow my example. I'll attempt not to lead her too much astray," he offered.
Mycroft narrowed his eyes at Sherlock, a silent warning that there had better not be any leading astray of the baby during the holiday! "I'm going to make a cup of tea and I'm tasking you and Rose with the decorating. I'll take a supervisory role from a chair by the fireplace with my tea."
A few hours later, Maud descended the staircase and came into the sitting room to find a room thoroughly transformed. Gone was its mix of homey elements among the stateliness of some of the room's décor, replaced with a Christmas wonderland. The tree was fully decorated, tinsel lined much of the room, there was even mistletoe hung! Add a cheery fire roaring in the fireplace and the divine scent of the pine tree it was like entering a whole other world.
"I have the very best children in the entirety of the world," Maud announced emphatically. "You very dear things! It's absolutely lovely and such a surprise!" She immediately began dispensing hugs and kisses to her presently well behaved children. The littlest was gathered up in a great big hug, her face covered in kisses as she laughed before being nestled close for a brief but hearty cuddle. The middle child extended his arms towards his mother, ready to accept the obligatory hug, and the kiss to each cheek. It was a clear indication of Sherlock's affection towards Maud to be so readily affectionate with someone other than Rose.
Where the middle child accepted, if not outright welcomed, his mother's shower of sentimental gestures, the eldest of Maud's children was another matter entirely. Rarely did he initiate any sort of physical contact with his mother, yet equally rarely were the times he firmly rebutted it.
The middle and little Holmes watched with bated breath as Maud crossed the room and pulled Mycroft into a hug. The eldest Holmes surprised them all, wrapping his arms around her and giving Maud a kiss on the cheek.
"It's a Christmas miracle!" Rose shouted.
24 December
"Do you think she's asleep yet?" Mycroft asked as he finished off the last biscuit. Rose had insisted on leaving biscuits and milk for Father Christmas and some carrots for the reindeer and, knowing she would be terribly upset if it did not look like her treats were devoured as they should be, the brothers had taken it upon themselves to make it look as if the little feast had been eaten.
Sherlock looked over at the grandfather clock in the sitting room. "Probably, it's just past 11. I tucked her in at 9. Her determination to stay up and meet Father Christmas by the tree did not quite pan out as she had hoped," he chuckled. "The merriment of the day, combined with all the baking, wore her out."
"This is about when I would go in," Maud added. "I think it's relatively safe Mikey. Did you enjoy picking out Baby's Father Christmas gifts?"
"I don't know if enjoy is quite the right word for it," Mycroft admitted. "But I think I did reasonably well."
Sherlock snorted. "He means his PA did reasonably well."
"I merely consulted her and then selected from among her suggestions! I don't go shopping for little children's toys," Mycroft pointed out with a frown.
"You'd certainly look horribly out of place! Ouch!" Sherlock rubbed the back of his head, scowling at his brother's retreating form.
Walking softly, Mycroft ascended the stairs and carefully opened Rose's bedroom door. He paused, watching her for a moment to make certain she was asleep but Rose never stirred from her slumber. Crossing the room he rolled his eyes at the bright pink stocking attached to the end of her bed, though in reality he didn't expect anything else from Rose!
Three pairs of shoes for her new doll, several packets of peppermint hot cocoa, animals shaped erasers, tiny owls filled with lip gloss and ridiculously frilly hair ribbons went into the hideous looking stocking, along with the obligatory sweeties and chocolates. God help them all if she ate all those sugary things at once! More importantly, however, Mycroft truly hoped Rose would enjoy all her Father Christmas gifts. He might not be seen buying 'girly' gifts, or necessarily know what one might find in a girl's Christmas stocking, but once Gaines had supplied with him some suggestions, he had admittedly enjoyed picking out items he thought his poppet might enjoy.
Just as the last item went into her stocking, Rose murmured in her sleep and rolled over in the bed. Mycroft tried to hurry out of her bedroom in a quiet and dignified fashion, but failed in his quest when he heard a tiny, sleepy voice call "My?"
Tossing the bag that had held her gifts out of the bedroom door, Mycroft turned back to the barely awake little girl. Crossing the room once more, he reached for her duvet and tucked it in tightly around her, murmuring a soft "Shh. Go back to sleep poppet."
Rose burrowed under the covers a bit more, soaking in the warmth. "Is everything okay?" Her eyes, barely open before, opened a bit wider as she searched her brother's face for signs that something was amiss.
Mycroft sat down on the bed and began rubbing her back through the duvet. "Nothing is wrong," he assured her. "I merely came in to check on you. I do that every night, but you never know, because you're sleeping," he admitted truthfully. "I come in and tuck the covers in tightly around you and sometimes rub your back just like this if you seem to be restless. I have ever since you were born."
The sleepy girl under the covers rewarded him with a smile. "I love you too, My," Rose whispered.
"I know, and I you." He leaned down and kissed her curly head. "Close your eyes and go back to sleep now, Rose." Mycroft smiled when she dutifully closed her eyes once more. He remained there for several minutes, softly rubbing circles on her back, until he was certain she was sleeping soundly again.
25 December
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS!"
Mycroft jerked awake at the sound of Rose's shouting, just as she dived onto his bed.
"Wake up, wake up, its Christmas morning!"
Groaning, the eldest Holmes opened his blurry eyes and tried to focus them on the clock beside his bed. 6:55 am. "Go back to bed," he grumbled. "And stop bouncing!"
"No, you have to wake up, it's Christmas!" The little bundle of energy bounced once more on his bed before scurrying out of the room to wake her mother and Sherlock in much the same manner. They, of course, were more indulgent of her excitement. Mycroft required copious amounts of tea before he could be persuaded to forgive even Rose for waking him so bloody early on a day there wasn't a world war looming! Though why he had ever hoped for otherwise, he had no idea; this was, after all, Rose's Christmas tradition.
With her family sufficiently roused, Rose grabbed her stocking from the end of her bed and carried it downstairs. Just as Mycroft descended the stairs, praying for some tea, Rose began to pull items from her stocking. He smirked a bit as she squealed and called out to everyone to come see what she got from Father Christmas.
"Look Mummy, look! I got ballerina slippers for a doll!" Rose held up a pair of small pink ballet slippers, complete with laces that would lace up a doll's leg like real slippers did. A sparkly red pair of Mary Janes followed, as did a pair of black, Victorian boots with real laces and even some black and white oxfords.
Maud, Sherlock and Mycroft gathered around on the couch while they watched Rose discover what was in her stocking. She let out a little gasp, her mouth forming an 'o' as she pulled out three little owls. "Make-up! I got make-up!"
The Holmes matriarch looked at Mycroft with alarm. The baby was just six, far too little for make-up! She was greatly relieved when Mycroft gave a slight shake of his head and mouthed the words 'lip gloss.'
Many more squeals were to follow as Rose discovered various colored hair ribbons on barrettes, including a pink and a polka dotted one. The packets of cocoa followed and, oddly enough- at least to Mycroft- it was the zoo animal erasers that garnered the most praise. "A giraffe and a pig and a cow and a panda and even an elephant! They're lovely," Rose decided. "And I'm not bringing them to school because I don't want to share them with anyone."
Maud laughed and hugged her little one close. "That's just fine. Father Christmas gifts don't have to be shared if you don't wish to, Baby. Should we see what's under the tree for everyone?" The tree had been void of gifts until after Rose had gone to bed the night before to prevent a burst of excitement to result in an unwrapped gift before Christmas morning.
Rose jumped up to begin passing out the gifts to everyone while Maud hurriedly brought in tea and scones for each of them. Mycroft gave his mother a grateful smile and breathed in the scent of his favorite brew.
Sherlock hauled a very large box to the center of the room. "This one is for you Rose," he said, placing it gently on the floor. "It feels very heavy! Any guesses what could be inside?"
Rose shook her head no, her bright blue eyes growing wide. "Is that one really for me?" Her imagination began to run wild with the possibilities of marvelous, wonderful gifts that could be inside it.
"It is," Mycroft confirmed. "And it would be terrible of us to make you wait, so why don't you go first? Open slowly," he cautioned.
Needing no further encouragement, Rose began to tear away the wrapping paper, revealing a large cardboard box. The box was opened and rather than let out her usual squeal of excitement, Rose went completely still and quiet. Nestled inside the box was the doll she had been hoping most of all to get. Carefully she extracted the Samantha doll and examined the cheerful dress before turning her attention to the rest of the items.
It was a box without end! As Samantha sat beside her, Rose discovered a couch, chair and coffee table, all painted pretty white with black and white brocade cushions. In addition to these new items of furniture, there was an entire doll wardrobe awaiting discovery. A jaunty pink fleece coat and hat with gray trim and even a gray muff; a dress that matched Rose's Christmas dress; a red poodle skirt with a lace trimmed white blouse. A plaid tunic and black skirt with a matching hat, a blue checked dress with black buttons and trim; and a black and red dance costume were among this new wardrobe. Each delicate detail, lovingly stitched by her Mother's hand, was worthy of inspection and the rest of the room was drowned out by her quiet examination of each of her gifts.
While Rose marveled over her gifts, bringing smiles to her family's faces, the rest of the Holmes family exchanged gifts. Sherlock gave his mother a monographed candle holder and a CD of Jane Austen era music while Mycroft's gift to Maud revealed a beautiful yellow and white stationary set, managing to capture her favorite color and one of her favorite activities- letter writing- all in one gift. Sherlock received money for much needed experiment supplies along with new beakers and assorted tools. Mycroft found two canisters of his favorite tea selections in his package from Sherlock. Soon all that was left were Rose's gifts to her family.
"Baby," Maud called. "How do you like your gifts?" They all waited for the momentarily quiet girl to give her opinion on her special Christmas surprises.
"They're lovely," Rose said reverently. "This is the doll I wanted the most of all and Mummy, these outfits are so much better than the ones in the catalog! Some are from different times in history and they're so pretty. Samantha will have so much fun in them, and she gets to match me today! Plus she has the beginnings of her very own house. Her bed that I got for my birthday and now a whole sitting room set. Louise can bring her doll and play and everything!"
After carefully setting Samantha down among her many gifts, Rose gave hugs to each of her family members before settling herself in Mycroft's lap to watch them open the gifts from her. "You first My," she decided. "Your gift was very expensive, so Mummy and I bought it together for you!"
Mycroft's eyebrows rose in surprise. Could it possibly be a new addition to his collection of first edition novels? He carefully tore away the cheerful, snowman covered wrapping paper to reveal what appeared to be a first edition of Adventures in the Land of the Behemoth by his favorite author, Jules Verne. A quick look inside the cover and first few pages revealed that it was exactly as he'd hoped: a first printing!
"This… is a wonderful gift," Mycroft said quietly. He was quiet in reverence of the book, not because of sentiment; no, definitely not sentiment! "However did you find it? I've been looking for this for years!"
"I had eyes and ears at the best antique shops and bookstores in London and beyond," Maud admitted. "Rose and I visited many of them to inspect their first edition offerings after school the past several months until we located this one."
The eldest Holmes sibling smiled and nodded with pleasure, setting aside the book before wrapping his arms around his baby sister. "Thank you poppet," he whispered, hugging her tightly. Mycroft pressed a kiss to the top of her head before receiving copious amounts of hugs and kisses from Rose in return as she relayed the story of the book's discovery. He resolved to give his mother a hug at the very first opportunity, deeply touched by the efforts she and Rose had gone to for his gift- not to mention the expense!
"Sherlock next!" Rose declared. She grinned brightly as Sherlock unwrapped his new book light and a mug with the periodic table on it, and then laughed as Mycroft passed her off to Sherlock for thank you hugs.
Last but not least was Maud's turn. Her large bag revealed a treasure trove of Jane Austen items: book plates for her books, a specially scented candle based on Austen's favorite scents, and a beautiful ornament to add to the tree. After yet more kisses and hugs made their rounds and the wrapping paper was picked up and put in the bins, the Holmes family scattered to dress and get ready for the rest of their Christmas day.
Many hours later the family sat quietly together in the sitting room amongst blankets and a cheery fire while watching a black and white Christmas film on the telly. The day had been filled with merriment, good food, enjoyment of new gifts, and had finally calmed down to enjoy the last of the family traditions: a Christmas film. It was a tradition William had started when Mycroft was a little boy and it had been continued long after his death. It provided a moment to relax and be together without the flurry of presents, food and other elements of the day.
This moment to relax was much needed, Mycroft reflected. Mother looked half exhausted after a day keeping up with the three of them and manning the helm, so to speak. She never slowed down for a rest not on such a special holiday, and he admired her determination. The day's events had worn Rose out as well; the littlest Holmes was cuddled between her brothers, holding on to her new doll tightly, the two of them dressed in their matching nightgowns and robes.
"I think I'll put Rose to bed," Mycroft said softly. When Maud nodded, he carefully stood up from the couch and picked the little girl up to carry her upstairs. Rose hardly even stirred, even when he laid her down in the bed and began tucking the covers around her.
"Bedtime?" she murmured sleepily.
"Bedtime," Mycroft confirmed. "For you and Samantha so you both can rest up for new adventures tomorrow." Once she was tucked in, he sat down on the bed and began rubbing circles on her back. "Did you have a good Christmas poppet?"
Rose smiled and nodded, giving a little hum instead of a verbal response. Mycroft didn't miss the way she hugged her Samantha doll even tighter as she did so.
"I'm very glad. Merry Christmas one last time," he said before leaning over to kiss her temple. "Sleep well and have happy dreams." Mycroft sat for a moment longer, until he was certain she was asleep and then quietly exited the room. It had been a very good Christmas indeed.