When Mycroft's eyes fluttered open it was just a minutes before six o'clock; something which was considered sleeping in for a man such as himself. When his head tilted to the side and saw the bed vacant he wasn't surprised in the least, Artemis slept even less than he did. He'd said to her the night before that he'd not go into the office and he couldn't hear the water running in the bathroom so he easily presumed that she'd be in the basement punching something or shooting something else.
The auburn-haired man lay there in his large, warm and comfortable bed and stared at the closed curtains a moment, he watched as golden light which had just started to rise in the sky crept around the dark fabric and infiltrated his room. He sighed. Mycroft had started to wonder if he'd done the right thing, yet he supposed it was too late to back out now. Well, not really for a man with his resources it wasn't but – Mycroft felt unsure and he didn't like that one bit.
Slowly he slipped himself out of bed and ran a large hand through his thinning hair and made his way into the bathroom where he took a quick shower. A hot morning shower always helped to wake him up; it was the steam, got him up and moving. Once in his favorite three-piece suit, the pinstriped one, and a green tie he slipped his cufflinks into place and combed his hair. Myc looked at himself in the mirror for a few seconds, he could wear a good suit and stand tall but he had to quietly admit he'd never have his brother's good looks; oh why did he have to get his looks from his uncle? Didn't really matter in the end, he'd never been all that caught up on looks – save for his weight – and he'd found probably the only woman on the planet who literally didn't recognize human beauty. Well, that little trip to 1985's 'Mask' is over, mumbled his brain before he headed downstairs and put the kettle on the stove.
Leaving it to boil, Mycroft went to his basement in search of the woman who would soon be his wife and easily found her punishing her punching bag for its audacity to exist. Honestly he was truly grateful she was on his side because if those fists were ever turned towards himself he'd be dead in seconds.
"Morning, British." She greeted without turning to face him.
He adored hearing her use that nickname, thinking about it she said it in much the same way normal people said 'I love you'. The man would have also been lying if he'd said he didn't take a few moments to silently admire her yoga pants as they cuddled her ass.
"Morning, Little Assassin." Said Myc as he approached her. "How long have you been up?"
"You're clever, you can figure it out."
Oh he couldn't help but smirk. "But of course, though I was attempting to be more conversational."
She didn't speak and he took that as his indication that needed to impress her for the day. Blue-grey eyes looked her over quietly, she as breathing heavily and her Beretta had been lay out by the firing range he'd had constructed for her but clearly hadn't been used yet. Mycroft concluded she'd been down there a while, sweat hadn't started to work its way into her hairline as it often did after a couple of hours of punching and kicking. No, she was still in warm up mode and the bed beside him had held a little heat when he'd gotten up.
"About an hour." He finally reported and Artemis paused to look at him.
"See, told you that you're smart."
He was the last person who needed his ego stroking, he wasn't driven by a constant need to be right like Sherlock.
"I am making tea."
"Very well." Precisely why she needed to know that was beyond her. "I shall be down here for most of the day cleaning my armory. I assume you'll be in your office today."
The tall man shook his head and pulled the dark-haired woman away from the bag and to his side where he could rest his hands on her waist. Odd to think that something so dangerous could be wrapped up in such a slender woman, then again plague was caused by Yersinia Pestis so maybe people needed to adjust their beliefs. He glanced down at her hands all taped up, they could do so much destruction but were so lovely.
"I need you to go and change into something a little more … professional." Green eyes met his own. "Guests are coming at nine-thirty."
"Who?" She asked quickly as her instinct to lock the entire house down and form a perimeter took over.
Mycroft though, he was nervous and didn't quite know what to say. He wasn't one for procrastination but when it came to figuring out a way to explain the phone calls he'd made Mycroft had subconsciously stalled himself.
"I will- I'll tell you once you're dressed." The British Government sighed. "I find myself struggling to find the words to explain properly. This isn't bad, I assure you. Would you please just change for me?"
Artemis was smart enough to know when to not ask questions, and though more detail would have been nice she had worked in darkness most of her life.
"Okay." She nodded seemingly satisfied. "Do I have to wear the jacket."
That actually made him chuckle, something he'd not known he needed. Trust his beautiful girl to make him feel better without even trying. He shook his head and kissed her lovingly.
"No, my dearest, you don't have to wear the jacket." Another kiss, somewhat deeper than before. "I'll go pour us some tea."
With that he left knowing Artemis would grab her guns and rush off to take a shower and do as he'd asked.
He felt a fluttering of uncertainty in his heart as he returned to the kitchen and poured himself a cup. After a sip he turned and gazed out the window at the yard he didn't go into all too often; ever really, quite frankly since he'd inherited it from Uncle Rudy it was Violet to spend the most time there. Rain splashed on the glass quickly but not violently, it would grow harsher as the day went on according to the weather report but that was of little consequence to Mycroft. Perhaps the weather was fitting. With his cup of tea in hand Mycroft vanished off upstairs to his office to deal with some pressing emails as once as one rather irritating one from Lady Smallwood who wanted to know why Anthea was telling her he wouldn't be in. Mycroft honestly didn't care, she could wait and Anthea could cover his door in so much red tape that it was impossible to find a way in for months if she wanted. There and then Mycroft Holmes had a million more important things to deal with.
He blew steam away from his tea and sipped at it for a brief time, took care of a little favor for Thomas Fusco – which he really did owe him for the use of his CIA satellites – and dealt with an issue so trivial and simple that even Sherlock could have solved it. Once all that was done Mycroft made sure to check up on Irene Adler, he'd let Sherlock think he'd duped his older brother but that was more for Sherlock's pride than anything else. The Woman was hiding yes, but could have become a cause for concern again at literally any moment. She had a penchant for dangerous problems and Mycroft liked to remain aware of where she was at all times.
The auburn-haired man actually startled when the doorbell rang and, with a much needed calming breath, he headed down to the front door.
Meanwhile Artemis had just finished drying her hair and stood in nothing but her underwear before the closet. She listened as Mycroft left his office and hurried to the door then returned to the task of getting dressed. Easily she slipped on a pair of black jeans which she then matched with a short-sleeved shirt and finished with a black racerback waistcoat. She dropped onto the bed to tie the laces of her military boots tightly while she listened to faint greetings and movements downstairs; seemed their guests had arrived. Had she still been with Hades then Artemis wouldn't have worn anything beyond jeans and a t-shirt really but Artemis had come to learn that not only did Mycroft require her to wear something a little more dignified for his profession, but she'd also noticed he seemed to like her in a waistcoat. Mycroft wouldn't ever admit it but and Artemis wouldn't make him but she knew he liked the way it defined her figure and drew his wise eyes to her bust; even when she'd not got her cleavage on show.
She listened to muted talking for a couple of seconds, he was usually rather forthcoming with her so his … uneasiness was strange. Fully dressed she donned her shoulder holster and went downstairs. She followed the sounds to the rarely used parlor, rarely used because it was just for visiting colleagues or others to do with MI6, and Mycroft did all he could to avoid that. Other than those few and far between people only a maid on her once a week round went through. If Greg was ever there he and Mycroft used either the screen room or the living room – which was more of a den in Artemis' opinion. Either way she headed inside and promptly ground to a halt when she spotted an older woman of maybe fifty with reddish hair dressed in a frankly alarming shade of yellow. More importantly she saw an infant boy in her arms and the elder one Myc had sat on his knee stood between the strange woman and the window almost as if he'd been wheeled in.
Mycroft had just been pouring tea for the middle-aged woman when he noticed her and almost seamlessly glided over to her and hauled her out into the hall before the newcomer had even managed to glance in Artemis' direction. There he set about stripping her of her shoulder holster and tossed it guns and all on the side table beside the doorway.
"What is going on, Mycroft?"
He sighed because that was as close to an angered demand as she'd ever gotten before.
"Okay, I spent a long time thinking about what you told me in the dining room," he began slowly, "thinking about how the children in the bunker had been treated and how you saw the rest of their lives unfolding. I even spoke with Gregory regarding it all." Myc paused but hardly for a second. "You're right, there aren't other people like me. I will never fully understand what you went through but I'll come the closest. I had accepted I'd die alone and then you came along." The British Government lifted his hands to cup her cheeks. "I am giving you my name, I want for you to be my wife. I will be nothing but perfectly happy if the rest of my life is just you and me, I'd be honored. However, Gregory said something that made me think." Another pause somewhat longer than before. "I am giving you my name and I hoped that, with your permission, we could do the same for those to boys. If- if you don't want to-" he was quick to counter "-just say so and I'll send them away, they can go somewhere else. I shouldn't have sprung this on you bit I just didn't quite know how to explain. These boys have nothing and we can change that."
"You do want to be a father, I understand."
Mycroft stood a moment and just stared at her, uncertainty really didn't suit Mycroft Holmes at all.
"The question isn't whether I want to be a father, we both know I do and there is no point in me denying it, the question is if you are willing to be a mother, if you want to."
It was Artemis' turn to pause as she tried to figure out a way of phrasing her next sentence without sounding as though she were completely heartless.
"... I cannot love them, Mycroft."
The suit-clad man smiled softly to himself. "Oh, I think you can, maybe not right away, maybe not for a very long time but I believe you are capable of it."
"I don't know how to be a mother either, I don't remember mine at all. I can be a trainer but not a mother."
Mycroft lifted an eyebrow. "In a way mothering is training, just less about how to kill a man with a ballpoint pen and more how to navigate life."
Silence lingered between them. Artemis had always been so unreadable and he really wasn't pleased about it.
"I'm so sorry, Artemis, I truly shouldn't have dropped this on you. I- I thought I'd found a away for everybody to be happy but now I realize it may have all been to make me happy. I was being selfish, I'm sorry. I can stop this if-"
The former Reaper cut him off quickly. "Okay."
Mycroft tilted his head. "Okay?"
"Okay." She repeated. "Yes. If you wish to keep these boy and think I can do it to a satisfactory level then okay."
The auburn-haired man practically lit up though he wiped it from his face as quickly as possible because he didn't wish to influence her even though one little facial experience probably wouldn't do anything to sway her. She'd just said yes, and Mycroft didn't quite know how to react for a few seconds so he ended up just stood there for a time in shock.
"Are you sure?" He sounded somewhat breathless.
"Yes." Artemis nodded. "Who is the woman?"
It truly threw him off balance at how quickly she'd slipped from something so emotional and important to something else he thought was totally trivial compared. Only Sherlock had ever been able to stall his mind in such a way before yet Artemis seemed to do so easily. It was all so simple to her and quite honestly he was jealous of that; would have been nice if he could do the same on occasion.
He mentally shook himself. "Her name is Martha Griffin and she's from Social Services. It is her who is to decide if we are fit to care for the boys."
"Surely you can override any of that." It wasn't really a question and Mycroft didn't treat it as such.
"Of course I can but I'd like to do this as above-board as possible, my little assassin."
Mycroft took her hand then in his larger one and guided her back into the room where Martha Griffin was sitting with the younger boy in her arms; a cup of steaming tea sat before her.
"Is everything all right, Mister Holmes?" She asked in a clearly Scottish accent.
"Yes, thank you." He flashed her that disarming let's move along smile of his. "I appologize for the delay." He gestured lightly to the emerald-eyed woman beside him. "Allow me to introduce my fiancée, Artemis."
The Social Services woman raised an eyebrow, clearly the 'she's too young for you' look which Mycroft had annoyingly grown accustom to seeing but it faded quickly when she spotted the scar that marked Artemis' neck. That actually helped to spark an idea in Mycroft's brain, the scarf of his she'd carried about for years had been destroyed when Artemis had been shot and had her throat slit but there wasn't anything that said he could get her a new one.
When the Scottish woman just continued to stare at Artemis the auburn-haired bureaucrat nudged her ever so carefully so that Martha wouldn't notice and Artemis took the hint.
"Hello, Missus Griffin." She greeted with an actual attempt to put a smile on; not that it met her eyes for one single second.
Seemingly satisfied Mycroft returned to playing mother while Artemis stood straight and rigid, almost a mirror of the young boy. She regarded him for a short time while Martha asked them question after question about themselves, and, of course, Mycroft did most of the talking while Artemis got away more or less with the old 'it's classified' statement. The Scottish woman didn't seem overly happy with that answer but it did provide an answer, she appeared equally displeased with Mycroft's 'I occupy a minor position in the British government' though Artemis didn't quite know why; or maybe it was that she didn't care, that looked more likely. Furthermore, Artemis had no idea why a man such as Myc was putting up with all of this when he could just override everything and not go through this whole song and dance at all.
The youngest boy slept in Martha's arms and Artemis silently ponders why this Martha Griffin had brought the children with her, if this was some kind of assessment interview to determine if they were suitable parents it seemed odd to have the boys present or at least it did to her. However, the longer she thought about it the more Artemis started to wonder if her soon to be husband had already gone rogue and blended a few interviews and introductions into one meeting; sounded like Mycroft Holmes.
Artemis turned her emerald eyes from her questions and back to the five-year old boy to find him watching her, his blue eyes flicked to the open doorway then to almost all of the items she'd previously deemed to be a usable weapon in the room, some, of course, were too high or heavy for him to lift, still Artemis knew his training had started and stuck nicely. He would have made a fine soldier for Hades. The dark-haired woman thought back to what Mycroft had said about mothering being a type of training and, while she assumed he'd exaggerated a little, Artemis couldn't help but wonder if he was right, Mycroft usually was about just about everything so she didn't see why this would have been any different. The baby would be simple she supposed, just care for its basic needs and speak in comforting tones . The older boy, however, would be much harder. In Artemis' mind it would have been better to either entirely reprogram the brain or to have avoided it entirely; he was half way between the two and that was so much worse.
She crouched before the child and was pleased when he didn't look away from her, probably recognized her as a Reaper and thought it better to not show weakness but he was clearly afraid of her.
"Can you understand English?" She asked and no one really took notice that she'd spoken. Artemis gave the boy a moment to speak but he never answered. "Μιλάς ελληνικά?" (Do you speak Greek?) Still nothing. "Sprichst du Deutsch? Français?" (Do you speak German? French?) Not a peep from him but the sudden changes in language did get a sideways glance from Missus Griffin. "Вы говорите по-русски? Dansk? Mówisz po polsku? " (Do you speak Russian? Danish? Do you speak Polish?)
The dark-haired boy never made any attempt to speak nor did he show a single sign of recognition; that didn't mean he'd not understood one of them though. If he really was scared of her as Artemis believed then she honestly didn't know how to start attempting to mother him, so she decided she should start somewhere they both understood. It was an idea.
Martha had stared at the trained killer since she'd started swapping languages but hardly listened to Mycroft's sudden speech about how his girl was a polyglot, though as it turned out he did need to explain the word 'polyglot' to her. Artemis wasn't in the least interested though and just stood up and left the room to gather her holster and return it to its rightful place over her shoulder; she'd always felt odd without the weight of it. Quickly Artemis returned and sat cross-legged before the boy and set her Beretta down on the floor before him. Both Mycroft and the child stared at it a moment while Martha Griffin gasped and made to get up but something about the way Myc turned to look at her kept the Scottish woman in her seat. When the boy made no attempt to move she lifted the weapon into her hands and quickly broke it down into neatly place pieces. It took a second or two but the boy sat down opposite her and silently reassembled it, his work wasn't nearly as lightning quick and a bit haphazard but it was good for someone so young with so little training. She took the gun from the floor where he'd left it and ejected the mag, removed the round from the chamber and fired it easily at the painting draped wall; hearing the familiar click Artemis nodded.
"Good." She slid the magazine back into her Beretta and returned it to her holster.
Artemis felt eyes on her then and she turned her attention to Mycroft as he watched her with a knowing smile.
"Feeling more prepared?"
Artemis nodded. "Yes."
"I'm sorry, Mister Holmes," began Martha, her face deeply frowned, "you seem like a very nice man, one who would make a good parent to these children but your fiancée just gave a five-year old a gun! That is clearly not safe for a child and quite frankly I don't think she should be allowed near children."
Martha launched to her kitten heeled feet and was instantly copied by Mycroft himself, though he was far more stoic.
"I'm afraid you have been misinformed, Missus Griffin. My government position is not quite so minor and though I was intending to do this quickly but by the book I shall now be abrogating your decisions. Forgive the error."
All eyes turned back to Artemis then she spoke once more to the boy. "I think you have been forcibly confined enough so I will ask you plainly. Do you wish to return to wherever it is with that woman-" Artemis gestured to Martha with her head "- or stay here? I understand the thoughts and the numbness inside you." Artemis wasn't sure just how much the boy was capable of understanding what with him being so young so she elected to just show him and get the message across that way. Easily she lifted her hair out-of-the-way and turned just enough to show him the tattooed numbers at her hairline; 132601. "Again, do you want to stay here?" Silent, so silent, but then the dark-haired child nodded. "Then you will stay."
Missus Griffin let out a laugh as if it were the most outrageously insane thing she'd ever heard. "This is no place for children."
Mycroft's head tilted. "In your opinion, but how much interaction have you gotten out of him before now? I suspect absolutely none." He closed the buttons of his suit jacket and straightened his sleeves unnecessarily. "Now, if you'd kindly hand me the baby, please?"
The middle-aged woman seemed reluctant which Mycroft could understand but quickly handed him over when Artemis stood as well, she'd not intend to indicate a threat but most people were usually afraid of Artemis.
"Thank you, Missus Griffin." Mycroft approved as he settled the little one lovingly in his arms. "I assure you that these boys will be in the best care possible, you have nothing to worry about. I understand my Artemis is not for everybody but I can confirm that she would never hurt these children."
That brought Martha zero comfort and her face just grew all the more stern and angry. She struck Mycroft as the sort of irritating woman who assumed she was smarter than everybody else out of arrogance rather than any real intelligence; someone who wanted things her way. She'd grumbled about Artemis having not been stood at the door to greet her along with Mycroft, then again when he'd provided brown sugar rather than white, and once more when she'd finally seen Artemis. However, it didn't matter what this woman wanted, Mycroft literally was England and she'd not be winning an argument with him any time soon and she knew it, so, with a series of grumbles she took a series of papers from her briefcase which had been sat at her feet.
"There is some paperwork for you to sign." She said, accent thick and irritation evident.
The suit-clad man nodded. "Of course."
Without a single hesitation he handed the baby over to Artemis who supported his little head just as she had the first time she'd held him in her arms. The auburn-haired man sat himself back down and signed the papers, he really had to wonder why he'd gone through all of this when he could have just gotten the papers all dealt with at the office; oh yes, his ridiculous idea of wanting to gauge a supposed 'expert' and their thoughts on the kids.
The elder boy hadn't moved an inch since Artemis had taken her gun back, not a single inch, just remained beside her feet wordlessly and watched while the adults went about their adulting. No one spoke for a long time and then, without warning, there was a shift of papers as Mycroft pushed them towards his fiancée and took the baby back.
"Just sign for me, my love."
Artemis nodded and took up her pen to do just that, she had no idea what these papers meant at least in detail but Mycroft just looked so happy. Mycroft's signature was clear and looped like his cursive writing and for a moment Artemis paused because she didn't have a last name, she didn't know if she was meant to write Holmes or not. The former Reaper only had seconds to answer herself and in the end Artemis decided she should get used to writing it so printed her name as Artemis Holmes and signed just underneath.
When she peered at Mycroft again she was struck by just how happy he looked holding the baby boy, she wasn't very good with emotions but she knew enough to recognize that. She knew for certain that if she could never find a way to love them then Mycroft would love the boys enough for both her and him. He'd be a good father of that Artemis had no doubt and she'd not take the chance from him.
Martha Griffin did all she could to drag her feet and keep grumbling at Mycroft, his future wife and basically everything else about them but Mycroft worked within the British Government and could easily navigate such a situation with little more than a 'yes, of course' and 'thank you for coming, goodbye now'. Myc didn't want her there so she didn't last long and soon he had shuffled her to the front door and locked it behind her without another thought. After a breath to calm himself he slowly returned to the parlor.
The auburn-haired man stood just outside the door where nobody could see him for a moment and smiled to himself boldly, just let his mask slip away to reveal what went on inside. Artemis had agreed to let them keep the boys! There he was, an asocial man in his later years who had accepted at roughly the age of twenty-three that he'd more than likely die of old, lonely motherfucker, but no, none of that had come to pass and instead he would soon be a husband and had just become a father. Gregory had been correct, he could have everything he wanted in life and now he did. It wasn't that he wasn't right for other people as he'd once thought, it was simply that the right people hadn't existed back then in his angry youth. Mycroft wasn't the sort of man to believe in something as silly as soulmates but when he thought of Artemis he had to wonder if maybe, just maybe, the theory might have held some water.
He shook himself mentally, he couldn't just stand there for the rest of time, so Mycroft slipped his mask back on for propriety's sake and headed back into the parlor where he went straight to the eldest boy and crouched down before him much as he had when Violet was his size.
"We won't force you to speak, all right, but I would ask that you at least give us nods and shakes of your head." Full sentences with connections and long words probably would have gone over the heads of most children so young really rather quickly but Hades had taken this boy and trained him, not for as long as they'd trained Artemis but still, and Mycroft wouldn't underestimate his intellect. "Is that okay?" The boy nodded. "Wonderful. You and your brother are going to live here with us now." It hadn't been a question but still the child nodded much to Mycroft's pleasure. "Would you like to see you room?"
There was where he hesitated and grew nervous once again, probably because this slender, older man in a suit had used the word 'like'. He flicked his blue eyes to Artemis who held his sleeping little brother then back to Mycroft and, thankfully, nodded.
"Excellent." Mycroft beamed in a way that, up until now, only Violet had been on the receiving end of.
He slowly stretched back up to his full height – which as practically comical next to the child – and held out his hand for the boy to take, for a moment Myc didn't think he would but then a tiny hand slipped into his own and Mycroft felt his heart warm.
Carefully he guided him out of the parlor, over to the stairs and up them all while Artemis followed along behind with the year-old boy. When he reached a closed door Myc gestured with his free hand towards his own room and started to speak.
"Our bedroom is just at the end of the hall, and your brother's is right next door to yours so he won't be far."
The door was pushed open to reveal it decorated much as the rest of his house was; it was really only Violet's room which had any real alterations. The walls were a dark green and a large bed stood against the middle of the back wall while a gargantuan window let light in from their left. Easily Mycroft lifted the boy and carried him over to the bed where he was sat down on the soft mattress.
"Like I said, your brother is right next door," he told his new son with as much care and softness in his voice as possible, "but if you'd like I'll bring his crib in here so you can be together. Would you like that?"
No one was surprised when another nod came. With no warning save for her boot nudged into his foot Mycroft found himself with an arm full of infant and heard Artemis mutter about getting it herself before she as just gone.
Blue-grey eyes looked down to the baby then to his brother and for the smallest of seconds he saw them again in that room, all alone and half-starved; it made him want to throw up.
"You're safe here, little one." He vowed. "I promise you that you and your brother are safe with us. You remember we were the ones who got you out of the bad place, right?" Another nod; probably the best they'd be able to hope for. "Good. We are here to protect you now, nothing bad is ever going to happen to you again."
No one would hurt them, not ever again, because if someone tried then Mycroft would very quickly forget about his desire to keep the blood of his hands. No, from now on the hardest part of their lives would be the boys waiting for Myc and Artemis to figure out what to name them.
