Eight-forty-five on Saturday morning saw Mycroft and Artemis dropping Violet off at her dance lesson. Mycroft stood tall with his umbrella planted between his feet and Artemis at his side while they watched the young Lestrade bounce through the door for her class. In the Holmes household it had always been Sherlock who'd loved dance – not that he realized Mycroft was aware of that little nugget of information – however, that didn't mean that the elder Holmes couldn't dance. Mummy had insisted that her children learn, just as she had with music, and so Mycroft could dance, he just wasn't partially fond of it. Violet seemed to truly enjoy ballet though, she had the same sparkle in her eyes that Myc had seen in Sherlock's. Sometimes he wished he had slightly more time to do the things he enjoyed but he was Mycroft Holmes, the British Government and he'd long ago put away childish things. Maybe when he returned home from the office that evening he'd sit and his piano and play.
They'd watched over young Violet for several days now and Mycroft had gotten it down to a fine art, Anthea had skilfully rearranged meetings and he'd categorized his workload by importance meaning anything crucial he'd complete while in his office where as the less paramount things he'd take home and work on there.
After a quick wave from Violet as she vanished inside the building Mycroft turned on the spot and then strode back to his car with Artemis hot on his heels. She slipped into the seat beside him and stripped off her suit jacket, ever since he'd learned that she'd shown up to a school of all places with her shoulder holster on display Mycroft had insisted she wore a suit jacket while in public. Artemis hadn't liked it – which was a surprise in itself – and had claimed it to be restrictive though she had of course obeyed without question. Mycroft didn't even spare the former assassin a glance as she folded the jacket – poorly in his opinion – and left it sat between them, just took a file out from his briefcase and started to plot.
The auburn-haired man's driver was good at his job, good at avoiding London traffic and so the drive to the office really hadn't taken long at all. Not so much as a single word was uttered as they made their way through dark halls, down to the hidden lower levels.
As soon as they stepped off the elevator the pair were set upon by Sir Edwin as if he'd been hiding in a corner waiting – knowing Edwin he probably had – for Mycroft rather than facing Anthea.
"Mycroft, there you are, I need more information of this attack you're planning. Do you even know where Hades is hiding?"
Mycroft held in a sigh, he really didn't have the mental capacity for Edwin's dumb questions in that moment, in fact before he could even remotely deal with them he needed a – rather large – cup of tea. He gave the elder man nothing though.
"We have a meeting later this afternoon, I shall brief you all on everything you need to know then, for now I have much to attend to as I'm sure you do as well."
With that Myc walked away and Edwin thought better of following him when he found himself pushed away with a single arm by Artemis as she trailed after her master like a dog on a leash. Had anyone else had the audacity to push him he'd have been outraged by such a childish act and let them know it, however, this was Artemis and the push wasn't childish, it had been his one warning and Edwin would heed it. The memory of the carpet outside his office before it had been replaced flashed through his mind, she'd had her throat slit and yet there she was at Mycroft's side; Edwin only had to glance at her to see the scar it had left on her neck. Is this woman unkillable? Perhaps 'immortal' would have been a better word, the few things Mycroft Holmes had deemed important enough to tell them all about her no normal woman could have survived; maybe she had died and just kept getting hauled back like being dragged over broken glass.
Mycroft had always been intimidating, odd for such a skinny man, maybe it had something to do with his height, but with Artemis on Death's door after Hades had attacked them he'd been damn right horrifying. No one had ever questioned his ability to do his job, even after Eurus' stunt no one had questioned, but with Artemis in the hospital he'd seemingly stalked the halls of the building and turned into a bogeyman of sorts, Mycroft had magically found a way of descending on people from the shadows like a Wendigo searching out its latest meal. In those days, seeing him so quietly angry to the point his saliva had been replaced with liquid ire, they'd all questioned if it had been safe to let him do his job.
Something twinkled ever so slightly then in the fluorescent light and Edwin's aged eyes spared it a quick glance. Is that a ring? Edwin paused as his brain tried to process that, at first he brushed it off, women wore rings all the time so this was perfectly normal. However, when he thought back to the woman in question he realized that jewelry was far from normal, that left him with one mental comment which he'd certainly question Holmes on at their meeting; he didn't.
Either obvious or uncaring as to Edwin's internal thoughts Holmes the elder and his raven-haired beauty continued along the dimly lit halls to his office where he was quickly greeted by Anthea who set a cup of steaming tea down on his desk once he'd entered the inner office. Meanwhile Artemis fell down into one of the guest chairs as soon as she'd tossed the folded suit jacket down into the other one. Myc flashed blue eyes up to her for just a split second, a quick look yes but one which sucked in so much information, she'd donned suspenders that day instead of her usual belt, and the blue blouse she wore somehow made her hair appear blacker, like onyx. So beautiful, muttered his mind as he took in the sight of her followed by her shoulder holster, and deadly. He couldn't just look at her all day though, no, the suit clad man had work to do, so he opened his laptop.
"Thank you, Charlotte." He said without looking up from the screen.
Anthea had always known just how he liked his tea and though she'd not been the most experienced candidate when he'd taken her as his assistant she had certainly proven herself the best one by miles. There were hardly any people Mycroft actually liked, most of them he just tolerated, but Anthea was among the few.
"Of course, sir." She smiled. "You're morning is still free just as you requested. You have a meeting at eleven with Stefan Lewandowski which is likely to run long, then your three o'clock meeting with Lady Smallwood and Sirs Edwin, Percy and Jackson."
Myc nodded. "Yes, I am aware. Would you kindly get me Thomas Fusco on the line please."
Anthea nodded. "Right away, Mister Holmes."
Another thing he'd always liked about Anthea was how prompt she was, always quick to get to work though never rushed through it.
"Fusco?" Questioned Artemis once Anthea had vacated the room. "He's the CIA station chief, yes?"
Mycroft gave a quick nod though didn't look away from his laptop as he started to type with some speed.
"He is, yes. I'd like to use the CIA's satellites to have another look over the northern area you marked." He paused in his typing then to take the large, paper map they'd been using from his briefcase and unfurl it. Artemis rose to her full height and leant over the desk to get a better look at the small notes which had been added in both their handwritings. There were also little shaded sections the former Reaper had made to indicate how much area she thought the bunker covered and where the surveillance would be. "Can't hurt to have a second look."
"I assume you will not wish me present for your meeting with Smallwood and the others." There wasn't any irritation in her voice and it certainly hadn't been a question, just one of her usual statements of fact.
He let out a hardly there sigh. "Probably best you stay here, Artemis. As far as half of them are concerned you're still the enemy and Percy Statham is still trying to seduce you because he thinks it would be funny to get one over on me."
Green eyes just looked at him, they weren't dead but they didn't shimmer with emotion either.
"I don't feel attraction to him or anyone else, British, you know that. I'm only attracted to you, I don't think I can be attracted to anyone else at this point."
Mycroft smirked, unusual for him, when people were around anyway. "Is this you assuring me that you're all mine and not to worry?"
Her head tilted. "You don't need assuring of that, besides, I doubt anyone in this building is attracted to that misogynist. I mean he is a bit rape-y."
"While correct, that is not a word."
Anthea's practically angelic voice cut through their conversation then as it bled through the intercom box to quickly inform him that Fusco was on the line for him.
"Very good, put him through."
Anthea didn't need telling twice and soon her angelic voice got replaced by Fusco's gruff American one.
"Mycroft, what can I do for you?" Asked the CIA station chief in a cheery tone while the sound of papers being shuffled around in the background told Myc and Artemis he was at his desk as well. "Planning some kind of bloodless coup?"
The British Government ignored the comment and instead got straight down to business. "Good morning, Thomas. I was wondering if you'd loan me one of your satellites for a few hours."
There was a pause where even the shuffle of papers fell silent, not a long pause but certainly one which said Fusco's brow had furrowed deeply and his attention had been captured.
"Depends." He began slightly cautiously, voice distorted slightly by the telephone line. "Depends on which one especially. You want anything that'll be coming up over Asia soon and I'm afraid you're out of luck. Who you spying on now, Mister Mysterious?"
Mycroft breathed out a small audible laugh which both he and Artemis knew was more for Fusco's benefit than a real reaction. "No, not spying this time, just trying to locate a lost plane is all. I need something over western Europe, like I said, it'll just be for a few hours."
Yet another silence lingered between them for a few moments, Myc had practically been able to hear the cogs turning away inside the American's head.
"Downed plane, huh?" He stated with a tone which said he didn't believe a word coming out of the slightly younger man's mouth. "All right, if that's the story you want to go with." The sound of typing sounded. "Yeah, looks like we have a satellite coming 'round to that area, you can have it for say, five hours. That going to be okay for you? Any longer than five hours and I'm going to have my boss' breathing down my neck trying to figure out what Mycroft Holmes is doing. They're scared of you, you know."
The suit clad man let out a little unimpressed hum. "Only when I'm not digging them out of a hole."
"Monsters stop being scary when they're on your side." Artemis said off-handedly as she continued to peer at the map.
"Is that Artemis? Since when is she American?"
Mycroft's initial reaction had been to quickly shoot back 'since about two minutes after we left you at the party' though he refrained and quickly placated his sort of colleague with a simple enough lie.
"She's using her real accent again."
Though mostly a lie due to Artemis being Russian by birth Mycroft found himself seeing more truth in the comment than he'd expected. Artemis wasn't Mariska any longer, so while overall it had been a lie the comment was also true. Thankfully with Thomas Fusco not being too bright or inquisitive the subject was mostly brushed over.
"I always knew you had a soft spot for us yanks."
Mycroft's easily steered the subject back to the matter at hand the faster he got that satellite the faster he could move on to his next task.
"Five hours will be more than sufficient, thank you, Thomas."
"Good because you're not getting a minute more. I just got my asshole of a boss off my back."
"You shouldn't anger people so much then." Said Mycroft as though it was that simple.
They practically saw Fusco shrug even through the phone line. "What can I say, I'm a rebel." The American chortled. "I'll have the satellite handed over to your techs within the hour."
"Thank you, Thomas. Goodbye."
With a quickly responded 'bye' Thomas hung up and Mycroft returned to his work with Artemis. This base may not have ended up being a big one or even a HQ – probably wasn't – but it would illuminate any chance Hades had of popping up a new council of generals, they'd cut off the heads and now all that was left was to cauterize the stumps.
He knew that from an emotional standpoint the end of Hades meant very little to Artemis but he wanted her to know that the organization which had destroyed her childhood, taken her parents and killed her older brother right in front of her was gone, no more, cast to the void where he could never hurt anyone else ever again.
The auburn-haired man took a breath. "Looks like I'll be in a meeting for the last half of our time with the CIA satellite, I trust you can handle things."
It wasn't a question, he knew Artemis could handle anything and if she didn't know how to do something she'd soon figure it out. Quite frankly the only thing Myc suspected she'd never master was the art of small-talk, then again the Holmes' weren't very good at that in general either.
"But of course."
"Excellent."
Sure enough, when the man with a minor position in the British Government was forced to leave satellite surveillance room six for his meeting with Lewandowski Artemis has found herself as the person in charge while a dozen or so techs and analysts commandeered the CIA satellite.
Artemis wasn't phased by her sudden, new role as 'boss' even though it was only for a short time, Mycroft had left her with a job to do and she'd damn well do it because, in the end, the only things which mattered to the trained killer where the things that mattered to Mycroft Holmes.
The raven-hair beauty stayed focused on her job but those around her couldn't help their sideways glances as gossip quietly spread between small groups of them while they worked. Though secrets and clandestine espionage were their trade word had quickly gotten around about Mycroft Holmes' odd – to say the least – bodyguard and just how many people she'd personally killed during the attack they'd faced. That was what it had become known as by those who'd survived, hadn't been given a name beyond 'The Attack' and frankly it hadn't really needed one, not that anyone would have wanted to name it regardless.
Those at the top of the ladder with priority ultra clearance could debate and argue over whether Artemis was a good or bad presence in the MI6 building all they wanted and probably would – some suspected that the Loch Ness Monster would have been easier to find a definitive answer to – but those further down the ladder had all already decided. Though scary and covered in scars, though clearly from a dark past and eerily robotic at times they all knew that Artemis had fought for them and that far more would have died had she not been there; chiefly amongst them being Mister Holmes himself. The analysts, guards, secretaries and everyone else who didn't get an office would remain nervous around Artemis but they didn't fear her; as Artemis had said to Thomas Fusco only a few hours earlier, 'monsters stop being scary when they're on your side'.
While the analysts muttered in hushed tones around her Artemis remained fixed on the job at hand, she'd heard her name said a few times but honestly didn't care what was said as long as she heard no threat made towards Mycroft. As she stared up at the large screen which took up most of one large wall she was fairly certain they'd located the entrance region of the WW II bunker that the Hades remnants had been using. Soon enough Mycroft would watch his plan be completed, she'd see to that personally.
~X~
Many hours later after two meetings, one of which had – as Anthea predicted – run long and another which had felt as though he'd been smacking his head against a concrete wall, Mycroft had been able to comb through their new information with Artemis, get everything plotted neatly just as he liked and had paperwork started on attacking the bunker. They could sit and plan all they liked but the longer they took the harder it would be to stomp the last of Hades out. Hades was a parasite most people even knew infected the world but Mycroft and Artemis knew and they would be Hades' doom.
Violet's dance class had ended at ten-thirty that morning and while he'd originally intended to have Artemis collect her and head home as they'd done before he was eternally grateful that she'd asked to spend the afternoon with her dance class friend, Lilah. This was something which Myc had learnt happened often from Gregory, apparently he and Lilah's mother would take it in turns to spend the afternoon with the girls depending on who wasn't working; usually Lilah's mother. Not having to keep Vi in sight all day had been a God send for Mycroft and Artemis, with everything falling into place a break from the child had been needed if just for one day. However, when darkness had fallen and the agreed upon time to pick Violet up neared they'd been forced to call it a day, gather up anything Myc could work on from home and go get Lestrade Junior. That was how Mycroft's expensive car found itself sat outside a suburban house in an area it had never had cause to be before.
Artemis was out the car first and waited on the sidewalk for Myc to join her, yet when she made to head up the path - which looked in need of weeding by the look of it – to the door he grabbed her by the elbow and proffered her suit jacket. Artemis didn't argue, in fact she didn't say a word, just slipped the jacket on and then followed behind him up the path. The slabs weren't level and quickly irritated his OCD but Mycroft did his best to ignore it, they just needed to get Violet then they could go home.
Loudly but not urgently he knocked on the door only to wait on the doorstep for Lilah's mother, according to her file she was a divorced mother of two by the name of Sarah with Lilah being the younger of her two girls. Mycroft drummed his fingers against the handle of his umbrella while they waited and just when he'd started to consider knocking again the door opened filling the darkness with light and a pretty enough woman flashed him a smile.
"Ah, you must be this uncle Mycie I've been hearing so much about. Vi didn't mention handsome." She added the last bit slightly under her breath as she gave him the old eye up and down.
Mycroft hardly even acknowledged the comment and instead peeked around Sarah when he heard the recognizable footfalls of Violet charging towards them. The child burst out from around her friend's mother and down the step to quickly hug the man she'd appointed as her uncle.
"Uncle Mycie!" Beamed Violet as she continued to hug him. "Hi, Aunt Artemis."
The former assassin gave the child a nod in acknowledgement but said nothing. Myc couldn't help the tiny uplift at the corner of his mouth when young Violet peered up at him, her arms around his waist still.
"Bonjour, ma petite. On y va." (Hello, little one. Let's go.)
Violet nodded then hurried back inside to grab her things and say her goodbyes to Lilah. Meanwhile Mycroft and Artemis continued to stand out in the chilled night air waiting while Sarah continued to essentially flutter her eyelashes at the auburn-haired man.
"You speak French?" She questioned as though she wasn't the only one there who didn't; even Gregory's French was passable.
Myc nodded, a short, curt movement. "I do, yes. With Violet's heritage Gregory and I believed it only right she learnt. She is a remarkably quick study."
When he'd been young Mycroft had been able to teach himself a language in maybe an hour if uninterrupted, now as middle-aged settled in he'd softened to a couple of hours. For most of his life he'd been the best and quickest person he knew for them, even faster than Sherlock and it had been the one mental thing he'd been better than even Eurus at; which had been an odd sense of pride for him. Then he'd met Artemis and she'd blown it all out of the water, she may not have been a genius in the way everyone thought the Holmes siblings to be but she was a genius in her own right, languages were her real gifts. Things with Violet, however, had progressed much slower – of course he'd expected that since she was eight – but while most children would have put it off or thought it too much like school work Vi had embraced it; whether that had been because it was Mycroft himself who taught her, she actually wanted to learn or she actually had an interest in her family history Mycroft wasn't entirely sure, in truth he assumed it to be a mostly the first, a lot of the second and a little of the third.
"Yeah, she's always been a smart one has Violet." Sarah continued to smile at him as he stood there before her in his bespoke Savile Row suit with his hair perfectly combed looking like the powerful man he was. "You must be very close to Greg if she's calling you her uncle."
Sarah leant against the open door frame, a subconscious attempt to appear relaxed and appealing which Mycroft took no notice of, yes this woman was pretty with her long blonde hair and striking blue eyes but she wasn't Artemis, she wasn't the walking weapon of a woman who'd agreed to marry him.
"Gregory and I are very close, yes, that is why I am caring for Violet until he returns from his trip. That and Violet is a sweet girl, she makes friends easily even in people who do not desire friendship." Case and point being Mycroft himself and Artemis. "It is a skill she's inherited from her father."
Just then the sound of feet – two sets this time – charged back down the stairs as they returned to the front door. Violet had just become visible when she tripped over thin air apparently and crashed down to the ground; Mycroft would have been in the house and at her side in an instant had she not A, landed rather lightly atop her backpack, and B, hardly even paused before standing back up.
"Damn it!" She grumbled as Lilah helped her back to her feet.
"Violet." Mycroft said in warning, voice slightly deeper than usual which had Sarah stood straight and fluttering her eyes again. "Please have some decorum."
She and her friend joined the adults at the door and when Vi peered up at her uncle it was with a questioning expression.
"Zut alors?" (doesn't really have a direct translation but conveys mild surprise)
Mycroft rolled the phrase around inside his brain for a few split seconds before nodding slightly. "I'll allow it."
Happy again she hugged her friend then put on her backpack and bounced out the house to promptly put her arms up. It was a childish display left over from her toddler days which only seemed to show itself to Mycroft. He didn't even hesitate, just nodded his thanks to a still silent Artemis when she took his umbrella for him and lifted Violet into his arms; she wasn't very heavy.
"Bye, Vi." Said Lilah, a girl who was the spitting image of her mother.
"Bye."
"We should maybe meet up again," began Sarah, "let the girls run around and play together. We could get coffee."
This woman really couldn't be subtle now could she.
"I'm afraid I work really rather excessively and Gregory will be returning shortly regardless. Besides, we wouldn't want my fiancée getting jealous, now would we."
Sarah's face faltered at that as her blue orbs left Mycroft and trailed over to Artemis who'd been disturbingly silent the entire time. She flicked her attention down to her hand were her ring shone in the moonlight then back up to the expressionless face which quite frankly was scarier than if Sarah had found anger there.
Mycroft didn't wait around, it looked as though it would soon rain and he still had an inordinate amount of work to get done before he could fall into his bed; he'd also like to spend some time with Violet that wasn't just him putting her to bed.
Artemis, however, hadn't moved to follow her soon to be husband, instead she'd just remained firmly rooted in place as she stared at a increasingly uncomfortable Sarah. Just when the silence went on a little too long and Artemis' innate 'I'll kill you' aura had started to grow a little too much she finally spoke.
"Get you own geek."
Then she turned and Artemis vanished into the night with Mycroft and little Violet.
~X~
Later, once they'd gotten home, the rain had started to fall and Mycroft had gotten Violet fed – by which he meant he'd ordered Greek food in – he found himself sat in the large room which housed his piano while a fire roared away and he finished off some paperwork. Normally he'd have done everything in his office upstairs but Violet deserved to have him at least acknowledge her presence rather than dumping her on Artemis all the time. As he finished up the last of his work the sudden sound of a note – E-flat – sprang up, Myc tilted his head over to Violet to find her stood at his piano rather than coloring by the fire as she had been.
"Sorry." She muttered as she backed away from the grand piano a few steps probably assuming she'd be told off.
"No, no, it is all right." He assured her. Blue-gray eyes quickly flicked around in search of Artemis, she had a habit of being so quiet he didn't notice her, but she wasn't there; just him and Vi. "Do you have any desire to learn an instrument, ma petite?"
Violet shrugged. "I wanted to learn the guitar but Mommy said it was too loud."
That got Myc to quirk an eyebrow. Preventing your own child from learning to satisfy herself, Mycroft hadn't ever met Gregory's ex-wife but he already didn't like her. He understood that being married to a policeman couldn't have been easy all the time but this woman had cheated on his friend and Mycroft would remain outraged on Gregory's behalf.
The older man spared the girl a smile, a real one which only Artemis and children ever had the good fortune to witness.
"It's not the guitar but I could teach you a few chords if you'd like."
Violet lit up at that and Mycroft felt him swell with a peculiar happiness which he only felt around kids. Quietly he set his paperwork aside – he had almost finished it after all – and headed over to the large piano where he sat himself down on the bench and patted the spot beside him for Vi to fill which she quickly did. Often Mycroft had found himself victim of a silent moroseness but Violet had a way of washing it all away.
For a good hour and a half he taught the child, just the two of them and a dying fire. Her bedtime had come and gone but what Gregory didn't know wouldn't hurt him and it was the weekend. Her fingers were a little too short to stretch along and reach all the keys but she didn't let it stop her and grinned at the way Mycroft's hands – which had seemingly been designed to play the piano – danced across the ivories and created a comforting blanket of the melody.
"Did you write that?" She asked happily.
Mycroft chuckled. "No, ma petite, Chopin did."
Violet's head tilted a little to the side as confusion filled her eyes.
"Who?" She questioned which had the man – who'd stripped down to his shirtsleeves and waistcoat – shook his head as he rubbed the fingers of his left hand against his temple.
"Good God, what has your father been teaching you." He muttered to himself more than the girl. With a hushed sigh he decided to elaborate. "Frédéric Chopin, he was a Polish composer. One of the best if not – arguably – the best pianist the wold has ever known." He paused a second. "Here, I'll show you."
Then music radiated from the piano, light and cheerful like ship dancing on the ocean. Violet never said a word, for almost nine minutes she just sat and watched as her uncle played, his fingers skilled at the keys. When he finished silence fell and blue-gray eyes turned back to the little girl beside him.
"See?" He asked with a smile. "Classical music doesn't have to be boring. Chopin's work can be really rather lively."
"What was that?"
"It's called 'Scherzo No. 2'. It as even compared to Lord Byron – he's a poet – for the way the piece 'overflowed with tenderness'." Mycroft trucked a stray lock of hair back behind her ear as a fatherly smile settled on his lips. "You should ask your mother to let you learn the guitar again, music can be a place to leave your emotions from sadness to joy. No matter how bad things get music has a magical way of making things better, of bringing people together."
The memory of Eurus and Sherlock playing their violins at Sherringford tumbled passed his eyes then, a quick throw away moment.
"I don't want to play it now." Well that hadn't been the answer he'd expected or wanted. Mycroft knew he was a little rusty but he hadn't ever been a bad pianist. Maybe she thought it was too much hard work now she'd seen it in action; he'd gotten her to learn French, that was better than nothing he supposed. "I want to learn the piano!" Oh of course Mycroft shouldn't have been worried, Violet was an astute and intelligent little girl. "Do you think Mommy will let me?"
No, his mind answered a little too quickly, if she'd not been willing to bring a guitar into the house she sure as hell wouldn't let a piano or keyboard in, still that wasn't exactly what Violet needed to hear.
"Perhaps not," was what he settled for, "though I'm sure your father would be willing to get you lessons if you really want to lean and, of course, I would be happy to let you use my piano from time to time."
That appeared to be the right answer because suddenly he found her little arms around his neck and Myc surprised himself by hugging the girl back. His eyes slipped shut, he truly did envy Gregory for this, for his fatherhood.
When the two broke apart a flicker of movement in the firelight caught his attention over in his peripheral vision and sure enough, when he looked there stood Artemis in her sleep things and clearly just out of the shower due to her slightly damp hair.
"It's eleven-fifteen, British." She informed him as she entered the room; the dying orange glow caressed her bare thighs.
Is it really that late? "Bedtime for you, Violet, you can sleep in tomorrow. Go and get ready for bed, I'll come up in a few minutes."
Violet nodded after a small yawn then slipped from the bench. However, instead of leaving the room and heading up the stairs she paused to stare at Artemis' legs at the display of her thighs the cotton shorts gave.
"What happened to your legs, Aunt Artemis?"
Mycroft ground to a halt, Gods he hoped she didn't blatantly state what he thought she would.
"Someone hurt me but your uncle saved me."
Mycroft's face softened at that as he fixed his eyes on his fiancée with a loving expression. Violet appeared to be too tired to notice Artemis dodging the subject thankfully and instead just nodded a little while she rubbed at her tired eyes and left for her bedroom.
He watched the woman he was to marry for a moment as the fire illuminated her, then rose to his full height and strode towards her. Before his brain had even decided to do it he'd taken her into his arms and made her lips meet his for a deep kiss. Normally Mycroft insisted upon being the very embodiment of prim and proper gentleman but in that moment, in the comfort of his own home, he let his large hands slip down to squeeze her ass as he easily slid his tongue into the younger woman's mouth. Her hands came up to grab at his waistcoat since his tie was long gone, and held tight as she pressed herself against him. When the passionate kiss finally broke apart Mycroft tilted his head to pepper her scared neck with tiny kisses.
"You'd better be naked by the time I get into our bedroom, Little Assassin."
Green eyes twinkled up at him. "Yes, British."
Another kiss and she was gone. Mycroft stood there a moment with a stupid smile on his face, Artemis was a woman with dead feelings and yet she always perked up when sex was on the table. Most people did in truth, it was fine to like sex but that wasn't what it was with Artemis, no, she liked having sex with him. The raven-hair beauty had told him before that of all emotions the one she understood and felt with any magnitude was love for him. She loved Mycroft Holmes, didn't matter what color his hair was, if he were tall or short, fat or thin, in his fifties or Artemis age, probably didn't even matter than he was a man instead of a woman, it was Mycroft Holmes she loved not the body which housed him. In truth that realization had only made him love her all the more. Lady Smallwood's attraction to him – or whatever it was – was almost certainly due to his position within the government and the quiet power he radiated. Lilah's mother, Sarah, had seemed focused on his suit and the wealth and upper-class nature it suggested. Artemis though, if asked what she loved about him or just why she loved him Mycroft doubted she'd mention his eyes, his suits or anything even remotely about his appearance, no, she'd have just answered that she loved him because he was him. Some women would love him for his power, some his class or money, some even loved his disinterested personality for some reason, but Artemis? Well, she was the only one who loved him for his soul.
