Chapter Thirty-Three

Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned.

Song of Solomon 8:7

At the same time this strange interview was taking place, a behemoth made its way to Sarah's apartment on Oxford Street.

"Miss Mounteney, Mr Holmes to see you," Sarah's landlady announced. It was a Monday night, one of the evenings that Sarah did not dance while in London.

The landlady disappeared and Sarah, who was taking care of correspondence, did not turn around immediately.

"I thought you weren't speaking to me, Mr Holmes," Sarah said, "Please take a seat."

"My brother probably isn't speaking to you, Miss Mounteney. However, I thought I would avail myself the pleasure, in his absence," Mycroft said smoothly, coming silently into the room and settling his bulk in an armchair in front of the fire.

Sarah turned from her desk and examined her visitor with eager eyes.

"Mr Mycroft Holmes! I wondered when I might meet you," Sarah said, her eyes gleaming with pleasure as she got up to join him before the fire.

"I see Sherlock has mentioned me," Mycroft said, observing the small figure before him with keen, pale eyes.

"No, he hasn't. I know you by reputation," Sarah replied and rang for tea.

Mycroft wheezed a bit and Sarah realised he was laughing.

"No, I imagine Sherlock hasn't mentioned me. It isn't his style," he said and continued his minute examination of the woman in front of him.

"How can I assist you, Mr Holmes?" Sarah asked, as the tea arrived.

Mycroft waited until the housemaid had left.

"I simply wanted to see the woman that my brother has been in love with all these years, that's all," Mycroft said coolly, taking his tea from Sarah, "I can see why he has completely lost his head. He was always terribly susceptible to beauty and I can see that there can possibly be no greater beauty on the Continent than yourself. Sherlock always had to have the best."

Mycroft wasn't paying a flowery compliment. He stated this as dryly and ironically as he would have recited the day's stock prices. Sarah regarded Mycroft impassively.

"I've come to know your brother quite well over the years, Mr Holmes and I can assure you that the one thing he would never do is lose his head. Also, I think you will find that your brother has a greater taste for the blonde beauty of Irene Norton rather than my own style. Finally, I find it very interesting that so many people are of the opinion that your brother is in love with me when it is perfectly obvious to me that he is oblivious to such a notion," Sarah said pointedly, sipping her tea.

Mycroft wheezed again in amusement. He was beginning to see why his brother found Sarah's company so stimulating.

"I've known Sherlock all his life and I can promise you that's he has completely lost his head – admittedly for the first time. As for Irene Norton, he may admire her beauty but she was unable to make him lose his head the way your charming self has. As for what Sherlock knows, he has no concept of what goes on inside that deeply buried heart of his. He was a very sensitive lad. The only way he knew how to cope with his finely-tuned emotions was to bury them all at a young age. He'd simply forgotten he had any, that's all. Then you came along and he can't ignore them anymore, so he's at sixes and sevens," Mycroft said frankly.

"In that case, he must be very, very good at ignoring whatever supposed feelings he has for me. As far as he's concerned, I no longer exist. I haven't seen or heard from him in months," Sarah said flatly.

"Don't be obtuse, Miss Mounteney!" Mycroft said, suddenly serious, "You know he stays away because his feelings confuse him!"

"I know no such thing!" Sarah said sharply, "If your brother had any feelings to declare, he has had plenty of opportunity to do so!"

Mycroft felt deeply frustrated. Why couldn't this young woman see? Sherlock believed she was unusually intelligent, so what was blinding her?

"He doesn't know how! The silly fool has never been in love before. Why can't you see how he loves you? You know how obsessively he watches over you. He's done so since the first day he met you. Doesn't that tell you anything? Do you think he does that for all his female clients out of chivalry? Of course not. He would be quite happy for all of them to go to the devil once the case is solved," Mycroft growled, sinking back into his chair with a scowl.

"Well, I don't know what you expect me to do about your over-sensitive brother who never shows any emotion at all and who is terribly in love with me, but who I haven't seen for months on end!" Sarah said sarcastically.

Mycroft's thin mouth pursed and he was quiet for a few moments. When he spoke, his voice was low.

"If he comes to you, just be kind to him – kinder than he probably deserves," Mycroft asked, "What looks like arrogance is just his way of protecting a very thin skin."

"I think he has skin like a rhinoceros," Sarah muttered rudely.

Mycroft examined the soft curves of her profile which even with a rather petulant expression were still very beautiful.

"Do you love Sherlock?" he asked bluntly, but his tone was gentle.

Sarah glanced at him and then looked away again.

"I don't know. I did, but now I'm not sure anymore," she admitted.

Mycroft examined the half angry, half sad expression on her face and was suddenly sure that Sarah loved his brother very much indeed. Mycroft suddenly felt usual warmth toward the young woman.

Sarah looked at Mycroft again. He had been silent for a few moments.

"Why are you here, anyway? I know your brother well enough to know he would be furious if he knew about this conversation," she asked.

Mycroft pursed his lips again and looked into the fire.

"Sherlock gave up cocaine a few years ago and I know he did it because of you. I'm just afraid that if things go permanently wrong between you, he'll take it up again," Mycroft muttered, his huge shoulders drooping slightly, "It could kill him and it would certainly ruin that fine mind of his."

Sarah was surprised to hear that Holmes had given up cocaine supposedly because of her. She had never asked him to. Holmes had a stubborn streak. She knew if she had ever tackled him directly on the subject, he would have kept taking it just to prove he could. She had been aware that he had stopped, simply because he had looked healthier for the last few years. The quality of his skin and his colour had improved. She had been very glad, but certainly had not taken credit for it.

"You worry about him," Sarah said gently, fascinated by the evidence of the bond between them considering that Holmes never mentioned Mycroft even in passing.

"Of course I do! He's been self-destructive since university. Then you came along and things got better - he had a reason to take care of himself. Of course, now with the two of you not talking…" Mycroft added with a shrug.

"I'm not sure what I can do," Sarah said honestly with a sigh, "To be honest Mycroft, he hasn't behaved very well and it simply wouldn't be appropriate for me to be the one to offer an olive branch, particularly when it is so obvious he is avoiding me."

"No, I don't expect you to try and contact him," Mycroft conceded, "but you will at least listen to him when he does come to see you again? He won't be able to stay away indefinitely; it will make him too unhappy."

"I don't think I could stop him talking if I tried," Sarah said with irony.

Mycroft's mouth twitched and they both laughed together.

Later that night, Sarah was back at her desk finishing her final letter when she heard a rap at the window pane. Mycroft had left hours before and was unlikely to come in through the window, so it could only be one person.

"I suppose it would be impossible to visit at a normal hour and to use the front door," Sarah said as she unlocked the window and let Holmes in.

"Apologies, Miss Mounteney. I was on my way back from a minor investigation and I wanted to speak to you," Holmes said, perfectly at his ease as he climbed into the room, his long legs making it a simple exercise.

Sarah had gone back to her desk to fold the letter and seal it shut. She had expected Holmes to sit down in front of the fire (probably cross legged) and light his pipe, so she was surprised when he followed her. When she turned around to ask him the reason for his visit, she read the intent on his face before he even pulled her against him. Sarah was so surprised that she didn't react at first when he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. Two strong instincts fought for dominance inside Sarah. One wanted to lean against him, wrap her arms around his neck and live in the moment. The other was her self-preservation. She had no intention of being put through the emotional wringer she had been through in the past months. With tears in her eyes, she pulled away from his kiss and slapped him hard across his face; so hard that she could see the marks of her fingers on his hollow cheek.

Holmes staggered back in shock. He knew he deserved it, but the slap was a hard one from a small woman. He couldn't speak for several moments and the murderous look in Sarah's eyes wasn't helping.

"I know I deserved that," he said quietly, his hand going to his still stinging face.

"What game are you playing this time, Mr Holmes?" Sarah asked rigidly, "I haven't seen you for months. What are you doing here now?"

"I was never playing any game, Sarah. You know I love you. I just thought I could be unselfish and let you have the glittering future you deserve. But, as it turns out, I'm not unselfish and I don't give a damn what all the peers in the realm can offer you, I want you myself and that's that. I want us to get married as soon as possible," Holmes said, his thin hands clenched at his sides.

Sarah stared at him, her lips parted in astonishment. She wanted to say something, but was afraid she would start crying and the thought horrified her.

"I've been lying to myself all this time," he said, suddenly turning away from her and pacing in front of the fire, frowning at the floor, "I was lying when I told myself that your story about coming from the future was impossible. I knew when I first heard the music on the iPod that you were telling the truth, but being suspicious of you allowed me to keep you at a distance. I was lying when I told myself I was trying to find out where you were from and what game you were playing. I really just wanted an excuse to find out more about you and keep an eye on you. I was frightened you would get hurt, being on your own as you were. Finally, I was lying about wanting you to have the best future possible. It was just one final attempt to try and keep my world under control after you turned it on its head," he said, coming back over to her, looking down at her intently.

Sarah was holding her breath. It explained just about everything regarding his behaviour, but he had a habit of being inconsistent.

"Now, you can slap me again if you like, it would be worth it," Holmes said bluntly and pulled her hard against him as he kissed her again.

If he hadn't just proposed, it would be a kiss worthy of a slap, Sarah thought dimly.

It occurred to her much later that night that Holmes had not been the strict celibate Watson had believed. It was obvious that neither of them was terribly practiced, but nor was either of them completely inexperienced either. For her, it had been a very long time and she suspected it was the same for him.

In the early hours of the morning, Holmes looked at Sarah's face. She was awake. He had one long arm and leg draped possessively over her small form.

"You never actually said yes," he observed, a trifle petulantly.

"Yes," Sarah said dutifully then glanced at him with a smile, "You like your formalities, don't you?" she teased gently.

"Just as well, considering where we are," he said ironically.

"I don't understand why now after all this time. Vienna was a long time ago," Sarah said, lazily running her fingers through his dark hair.

"I knew a proposal like the one from the Count of Winchester was coming. It was only a matter of time. I told myself I was doing the right thing. It was only just in the last few days that I realised I was just being a coward and running away from something I knew I couldn't control," Holmes explained.

"I knew I was attracted to you from the first time I met you," Sarah said with a frankness that took his breath away, "but you did work very hard at making me dislike you. It never really quite worked, though. It just upset me at the time," she confessed.

"I never could really believe that you would ever so much as look in my direction, not with the army of wealthy admirers that you had," Holmes admitted, his face half buried in her neck.

"I never looked at anybody else!" Sarah protested.

Holmes knew it was true. She had never given anyone any encouragement. In all the years he had known her, he was the only man she had kissed and the only man she had looked at with that oddly concerned and curious gaze. He hadn't just been as blind as a bat, he had been deliberately, stubbornly and determinedly blind. To have his love returned was too confronting and overwhelming. He had been terrified. He had had no idea what to do. He had retreated inside himself, closed up like a clam. It was unbelievable to him that she had waited.

"I want us to get married as soon as possible," he muttered into her soft skin.

"Whenever you like," she said.

The next day, with one look at Sarah and Holmes, Watson knew what had happened. About time too, he thought with a chuckle to himself. Holmes had one arm protectively around Sarah's shoulders as he led her into the Watson's home to tell them around the engagement.

Sarah and Holmes had already discussed some arrangements. He would keep his rooms on Baker Street for consulting and Sarah would keep her rooms on Oxford Street. Perhaps the time would come one day when they both retired that they could move to a rural property together. He had already been richly rewarded by the royalty and other blue bloods he had helped during his career to date and could make Sarah and himself very comfortable without needing her finances. In the meantime, when they were both in town and not engaged by work, they could spend at least their evenings together at Sarah's rooms without the annoyance and interruption of clients who came to 221B Baker Street.

A/N: Another couple of chapters to go, just to wrap things up. I will try and post them by New Year. Thank you to the readers who have been kind enough to take the time to review, it has kept me motivated to keep posting the chapters.