Mycroft wasn't happy. He'd woken up to discover Lysander in his bed fast asleep and cuddled up to the lock knife Artemis had gifted him. Myc hadn't heard him come in and it pained him to see just how much his son missed his mother. The boys had been throw so many hardships already so Mycroft absolutely despised that he and Artemis were pushing more on him; Lysander was just a child after all.

That had left him disgruntled throughout the day and had even started a small argument with Lady Smallwood, but it wasn't what distressed the British Government though, no, that had been the note his driver had given him when he'd finally managed to escape the office for the night. According to his driver it had been under the windshield wiper when he'd returned from grabbing a coffee before coming to pick up Mycroft. Of course a man like Mycroft Holmes hadn't employed a moron, Darrow was no appleknocker, so of course he'd already had the envelope checked for tampering or hazardous materials before handing it over. So, while Darrow went to have the car swapped out Mycroft stood in the parking garage and stared at the suspicious envelope. It had his name scrawled on it in black sharpie and it certainly wasn't in Artemis' handwriting; not that his wife would communicate in such an obvious way. With a sigh he carefully unsealed the envelope and read the hastily scrawled message in the same sharpie and instantly reached for his cell phone.

Captain Darrington answered before the end of the first ring and quite frankly Myc paid him enough for such a prompt response. It hadn't taken more than a single sentence to place the dedicated black man on full alert in regards to protecting Sander and Gally; Mycroft had no doubt in his mind that Darri wouldn't let a single scratch of harm befall the Holmes children. The children would be kept safe at home, Lysander wouldn't even leave for school until Mycroft had decided his boys were a hundred percent safe.

The second call Mycroft made was to Anthea and lasted much longer. Had the suit-clad man not been so polite he'd have essentially just been barking orders at the younger woman. When the call finally ended Mycroft sighed and looked back to the note as if to conform the words were there.

Do you want your whore back, Mr Holmes?

Abby Mills Pumping Station, 9pm

He peered down to his pocket watch, he'd been kept in meetings longer than expected so the hour was late. Truthfully Mycroft only had twenty-eight minutes to get to the pumping station but with a driver like Darrow he could make it with time to spare.

The auburn-haired man took a moment to calm himself while he waited for his driver to return with the replacement car, everything was coming to a head now. While he'd prepared there were no certainties about anything, Darrington was there to protect his sons but all Artemis would have was Mycroft himself. He sighed, I'm a glorified bureaucrat. Even as a child she could kill me so easily.

The car and Darrow returned then and Myc threw himself out of his inner thoughts so he could force his mask back into place before he slipped into the back seat. He stared at the envelope as the car rolled along streets, judging by its mild dampness it had been placed expecting him to appear much sooner from the MI6 offices.

~X~

When the car rolled to a stop Mycroft didn't move for a moment, rain had started to fall heavily and he'd have much rather stayed put. However, inside the pumping station was his wife and he couldn't leave her there to do everything herself.

When he couldn't warrant remaining any longer Myc gripped his umbrella then stepped out into the rain. His umbrella made a distinctive sound as it opened up to shield him from the downpour and he stared at the pumping station with mild trepidation, if this didn't go as planned his sons would likely be orphaned for a second time.

Ignoring the rain Mycroft walked to the pumping station door where he was met by an unnecessarily tall man with thinning blond hair. Neither spoke to one another, the tall man just opened up the door so Mycroft could enter the dragon's den. Another man met him on the inside.

"Follow me." Was all he said and Mycroft had no choice but to close his umbrella and trail after who was clearly a hired gun.

There weren't as many mercenaries around as Mycroft had expected and he wasn't entirely certain if that was a good or a bad thing. Still he said nothing, had learnt early in life when to keep his mouth shut. After enough walking and more he found himself guided into a large room which seemed bathed in more drama than a bad action movie. All around was peeling paint and scuffed floors but Mycroft cared little about that, instead he was more focused on the catwalk high up to his right littered with armed men, and more importantly on his beautiful wife tied to a rickety chair in front of him. Beside Artemis stood August Disraeli clearly alive and well.

"About time you showed up." He announced in a gruff voice.

Mycroft didn't miss a beat. "Good evening, Mister Disraeli. If it is all the same with you I'd like for this to be dealt with quickly. My wife has been away long enough already."

"Sit down." Disraeli ordered and gestured to a vacant chair by Mycroft.

"No, thank you."

Disraeli's eye twitched. "I'll kill your bitch if you don't sit."

"My apologies but I shan't be sitting in that chair, it's filthy."

From his inner pocket Mycroft took a small stack of pages which had been folded neatly to take up as little space as possible. The auburn-haired man tossed them down onto the chair without hesitation. Disraeli, a stocky man with deeply tanned skin and a clearly too sculpted beard, nodded to the man who had a gun pressed against Artemis' temple before he slowly stepped toward the chair.

"Clearly you don't love your wife as much as I loved mine." Said the shorter man with asperity.

Mycroft's blue eyes flicked to his wife, who still hadn't said a word or moved a muscle the entire time, before back to their enemy. August Disraeli was a terrible human being, he was a man who had made his career through terrorism and killing innocents for little more than money. Mycroft never thought he'd say it but most bombers were probably better than Disraeli because they killed people for a reason while Disraeli just did it for money and couldn't have cared less who died. Hardly a distinction between them but still there was one.

"That simply isn't true. You see, sir, my wife and I are like two sides of the same coin, if you will. She is the brawn while I am the brain. My mind never shuts off, I have the entire world inside my head whether I desire it or not. I perpetually live three weeks ahead of everybody else, even my little brother. I am the mastermind of our relationship, and as mastermind I have a superpower. Narration." Myc hardly paused even for a breath. "You see it's exactly what I am doing now, explaining my character to you. Whenever the narrator speaks the audience listens and often forgets to pay attention to everything else going on around them, to things they take for granted. It's a kind of tunnel vision." Mycroft planted his umbrella between his feet. "For example, none of you have noticed my wife is no longer in that chair or that the three goons you had up on that catwalk are dead."

Disraeli's head snapped over his shoulder and sure enough the chair was indeed empty, Artemis had the henchman who'd been pressing a gun barrel into her head pinned down on the floor as she yanked her blade out from the base of his skull.

"Kill her!"

Suddenly a side door bust open and two more mercenaries but before a single shot could be let off Artemis threw her knife one taking him down instantly. She used the momentary distraction to haul ass across the room where the second henchman took a foot to the face before being ruthlessly dispatched; the last sound he ever heard was his own neck snapping.

"Don't ask where she hides all those knives, even I haven't figured that out." Mycroft smiled to himself while Artemis retrieved her knives and helped herself to one of the dropped pistols. "Now, to business. You believe me responsible for your family's slaughter, yes?" The auburn-haired man didn't await a response. "You believe this due to inside information you were fed. This information was regrettably all fabricated. The document you were sent revealing myself as the one who ordered the operation which led to the deaths of your wife and daughters was purposely doctored to be inaccurate." Artemis quietly shuffled closer as her husband spoke to ensure August Disraeli didn't get any stabby ideas. "However, I have been kind enough to provide you with an actual copy from our records so as you may see that you've been lied to. Please, take a look." He gestured to the documents which still lay on the chair. "The woman who is truly responsible for your family's deaths is named Vivian Norbury. She had been running her own clandestine operation off the back of our own. She gave the orders which led to the deaths of those you loved, not me. Though, if you wanted them to live, being a terrorist maybe wasn't a wise career choice to begin with. I have provided all the relevant information as to where she is now located. Vivian Norbury is an old woman and likely not long for this world."

Disraeli sneered. "How the hell can I believe you?!"

Mycroft tilted his head a little. "You cannot, not entirely at least. Are you honestly so incompetent that you believed you could kidnap my Hades trained wife? We allowed you to so we could force this meeting. I could have just had her kill you but I didn't. So you can't simply trust me, but unlike you I am not a liar nor a murderer."

"Surely you've killed someone!"

Mycroft nodded calmly. "I have. Though my wife helped me to understand that there is a difference between being a killer and having killed. You are a killer, Mister Disraeli, while I have killed. You can believe me or you can attempt to kill me but I assure you Artemis will end you first." He tilted his head. "Do you wish to avenge your family or continue to let an old woman rotting in a cell manipulate you?"

The bearded man cast a harsh glare. "Why would an old woman do this?"

Ah yes the why. And the why just always has to involve my idiot little brother, grumbled the British Government's mind.

"My brother, Sherlock, and I were closing in on her, she gave you information hoping you would act much quicker but she failed to take into account your grief, injury and, of course, the year-long coma after their deaths. Now, I have given you the truth. I'll take the contract cancellation code now, thank you."

Finally Disraeli grabbed the documents and unfurled them. He read little more than a sentence before the bearded man cast a glare to both Artemis and her husband. It didn't take a brain like Myc's to figure out Artemis would kill him if he even thought about striking at Holmes the elder. She'd gotten out of her bonds so easily and dispatched his guards like they were nothing. Maybe he should have hired more men. August wouldn't get out of this easily now, and Mycroft had been correct, he could have just let Artemis kill everyone, he suspected she'd have succeeded.

Disraeli sighed as he nodded. "La Bayadère."

Mycroft's brow furrowed. "La Bayadère, really?"

"My youngest adored ballet and that was her favorite."

Mycroft turned his attention back to his beloved bride. "Come along, my love."

Artemis went to his side in an instant and let him snake an arm around her waist. Gods he'd missed her touch. They could go home now, they could be together again.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mister Disraeli. You truly have my condolences for the loss of your family and my gratitude for bringing Artemis back to me."

With that Mycroft and his wife turned then left the pumping station. Outside the rain had eased off and the blond who'd been standing guard was nowhere to be seen.

"Are we done now, British? Finally finished?"

"Yes, my love. He will see the records, understand I am telling the truth and then be arrested the second he leaves just like all his guards outside have been. I'm not letting a terrorist go, especially after we planned everything so very carefully. As soon as I received the note you warmed me was coming I alerted Charlotte and she had soldiers sent.

"I didn't think you'd let him go."

She went to open the door to their car but before she could grab the handle Mycroft had pressed her up against the door for a kiss. A desperately needed kiss.

"I love you."

"I know. I love you as well."

Oh Mycroft couldn't quite put into words just how happy hearing that from her made him. So long she'd been away and his loneliness had started to invade his soul once more. He adored her and everything about her.

"Why did you pause?" Myc asked out of the blue. "All those years ago when you pinned me down in the snow, you paused, it was what gave me enough time to shoot you. Why pause? I've always wondered."

There was a long silence where Artemis just rested her head against his lean chest, but Mycroft didn't mind, he'd savor every second with her he could get.

"My entire life people had looked at me in two ways. Reapers were dead, lifeless, they look through each other rather than at them. Then there were normal people, those I was sent to kill. They looked at me like prey would a hunter. You though, you looked at me as though I were a person and it took me entirely off-guard. That is why I paused." Polished emeralds glanced up to meet her husband's own. "Do you remember once you said Hades had 'locked me up and taken my soul'?" Mycroft nodded. "Well you were right, but then you have it back and named me. You made me a real girl. Thank you. All I've ever been is a killed, but you have made me a wife, aunt and mother. Mariska Kovrova probably would have had a wonderful life had her parents and brother not been assassinated, maybe you would have even met her in passing at one of your galas. 132601's life was blank and void of anything even remotely meaningful. Artemis Holmes though, well, I think I'll like being her."

Mycroft snared Artemis in his arms and held her tight. "Let me take you home."

"I want nothing else."

THE END