In the bedroom, sunlight streams through an open wooden shutter. Tara clutched the sheets with one hand and pulled Mycroft in for a kiss with the other. Mycroft, released her lips going down to her neck and collar bone as he increased his pace. Tara's moans were interrupted by Mycroft's phone ringing incessantly on his nightstand. He ignores it and continues, but Tara is easily irritated by the sound and pushes him off. 'Just pick it up' she said and tried to catch her breath.

Mycroft sighed and fell on her side. As he catches his breath, he answers the phone. 'Yes. What?... Sherlock' he panted.

'Why are you out of breath?' Sherlock asked.

'Filing' Mycroft exhaled.

Without missing a beat Sherlock countered. 'Either I've caught you in a compromising position or you've been working out again. It's still morning, favor the latter' It was 9 am in the morning, but Sherlock couldn't have been more wrong.

At that, Mycroft smirked and looked at Tara who was still panting. 'What do you want?' he asked, avoiding the subject.

'I need your answer, Mycroft, as a matter of urgency.'

'Answer?' Mycroft knitted his brows. Tara turned to face him and pulled closer, trying to listen in on the conversation.

'Even at the eleventh hour, it's not too late to know' Sherlock told his brother.

Mycroft realized what his brother was talking about 'Oh, Lord' he exhaled. Tara understood what Sherlock was talking about too. She sighed and smacked her head.

'Cars can be ordered, private jets commandeered.'

'Today. It's today, isn't it?... No, Sherlock, I will not be coming' he said, earning him a smack on the head from Tara. Her eyes threatened him to do otherwise but he wouldn't give in.

'What a shame. John and Rosie would be extremely...'

'Delighted not to have me hanging around' Mycroft said as he stopped Tara, who was hitting his chest, with one hand.

'Oh, I don't know. There should always be a specter at the feast'

'Goodbye, Sherlock' Mycroft said and hung up. He put the phone away and turned to Tara. 'Now, where were we?' he smirked and rolled on top of her.

'We were done' Tara said and wiggled out of his grasp.

'No, we were not' Mycroft said and tried to catch her but she was already out of the bed.

'I don't know about you but I am done. Maybe you can finish the rest by yourself' she smirked at him and donned her robe.

'Oh, come on! What is the hurry?' He asked in disappointment.

'The hurry is that I promised Rosie I would make a birthday cake for her, and absolutely forgot about it until now and by the way, you're coming tonight' she patted his shoulder and kissed his cheek.

'No, I am not' he said spitefully. 'This is not fair' Mycroft muttered under his breath as Tara left their bedroom.

'Go take a cold shower, Mycroft' Tara yelled from the hallway.

Mycroft took Tara's pillow and muffled his frustrated scream. This was not how he had imagined his weekend would go.

...

Shakira's 'Hips Don't Lie' played on full blast. Mycroft walked into the kitchen to find Tara singing and dancing around the kitchen. She was using a spatula as a mic. Mycroft stood back and watched as she remained completely oblivious to his presence. A smirk plastered on his face. He decided to go scare her by hugging her from behind but his plan is ruined when Tara moves out of his way and he slips and falls face-first on the cake placed on the kitchen counter.

'YOU FUCKIN' IDIOT' Tara yelled and turned off the music.

'Hey! Language, Lady' Mycroft scolded as he wiped the pink frosting out of his eyes, sneaking a taste of the cake.

'Rosie's birthday party is at 5 and you faceplanted on her cake. LANGUAGE CAN GO FUCK ITSELF' Tara was raging with anger.

'It's not like I am enjoying this. I have got cake all over my face and my suit. Do you know how expensive this suit is?! Do you know how expensive dry cleaning is? I am not even sure dry cleaning can fix this' Mycroft rambled as he grabbed some kitchen towels and started to clean his suit.

'It's a weekend. Why are you even wearing a suit?' Tara shrieked.

'The British Government doesn't have holidays and I always wear a suit' he yelled.

'Run. Run to Russia' Tara growled. Tara had forgiven Mycroft for lying to her, not forgotten it. Mycroft knew, now she would bring it up every time they fought.

Sure, Tara was scary, and sure, she scared Mycroft at times. But whenever she did, a part of Mycroft wanted to fall down on the floor laughing. Not to body shame but, it was hilarious when a woman her size got angry and started yelling. Every time she got mad her voice would get squeaky and Mycroft would have to fight the urge to shut his ears so as to not offend the woman. At that pitch and frequency, only Toby the dog could understand her.

'Okay, there is no need to go feral here' Mycroft said cautiously. 'I didn't mean to faceplant on Ms. Watson's cake. For what it's worth it was delicious.' He told her.

She looked at him, taking a few seconds to let the anger fade away. It was an accident. It wasn't Mycroft's fault. 'I know you didn't mean to faceplant on her cake...' she muttered and walked to the kitchen counter.

'Look I'll just have Anthea get a new cake' Mycroft said.

'You can't get a custom cake on such short notice and I promised Rosie that I'd make the cake myself' Tara sulked over the remains of the cake on the kitchen counter.

'Okay, so, what's the plan?'

'I don't know yet' Tara whined.

'This doesn't exactly look salvageable...' Mycroft said pointing to the remains of the cake.

'Look at it, Mycroft. It has splat all over the counter,... and, your face,... and, your bloody suit...' Tara said shaking her head.

'Okay, how about you make another one?'

'Wow, Mycroft, you're a genius. I didn't think of that at all' Tara said sarcastically.

'Sarcasm is going to be very helpful at this moment' Mycroft retorted.

'You messed up a motherless 4 -year old's birthday cake. You're going to help, Mr. Holmes' She told him sternly.

'No, I have to get to work' he said, then looked at her face. She was seething with rage. 'Fine. But can I clean up first?' he surrendered and asked.

Tara sighed 'Fine. Go, clean up. You look like a bear who mauled a bunny made of frosting'

Mycroft would retort but she was far too angry for an innocent battle of words. 'One last thing. Don't tell anyone I faceplanted on a cake' Mycroft pleaded.

'What?! The Iceman is embarrassed?' she smirked and then looked at the exhausted look on Mycroft's face. She sighed and pitied the man. 'Fine. But you're coming with me tonight' she told him. The fuss of dating The Iceman.

Mycroft would have argued, but he knew he shouldn't be too greedy and silently agreed to the deal. The price of dating The Baker.

It was still hard to believe that all this was actually happening, that Mycroft Holmes, The Iceman was completely head over heels for this tiny woman. She had him wrapped around her thin long finger. Sometimes it felt like they were just two kids playing house, that all of it was a dream. Maybe she was a figment of his imagination and one day he would wake up to find her gone.

...

'Okay, I know you need help and time is tight. Don't worry boo, Grace's got you' Grace said as she entered the kitchen with two bags full of baking supplies and a file.

'Thanks, Grace. I have never loved you more' Tara exclaimed and hugged her.

'One quick question. What the hell happened here and why is he here?' Grace asked pointing to Mycroft who was sulking in the corner.

'Just a little mishap and he just wants to be helpful' Tara told Grace and avoids her gaze, arranging all the baking supplies on the counter.

Grace looked at Mycroft, who greeted her with a curt nod. Mycroft Holmes was going to help them make a cake. That sounded like a joke. 'You sure he is not just popping benzos like breath mints' she muttered to Tara, careful that Mycroft didn't hear her. 'Michael did that once' she said and looked at Tara. Tara's glare was a good enough answer. 'Okay,... I brought the file where we brainstormed all the ideas. There is no way we can finish this cake on time. So, this is a go big or go home situation. I'm thinking we go this big...' she said as she flipped through the pages of the file and pointed to a cake.

'Oh, that's good...' Tara agreed.

'Okay then, No. 57 it is. Now, Mr. Holmes, grab the mop, you're on clean up. Boss, you're making the batter. And, I am on frosting duty. On Three, two, one. Go team Rosie!' Tara and Grace brought their hands in and waited for Mycroft to join.

Mycroft glared at the two women from the corner. Grace was putting his OCD to good use, he would give her that. And sure, he was the one that messed up. He had agreed to help. But he wasn't going to start acting like he was a part of some girls' basketball team.

...

At Baker Street 221b. Rosie was very pleased with Grace and Tara's creation. She loved that her birthday cake resembled her favorite ladybug soft toy.

'I can't believe we pulled it off. Grace, I owe it all to you' Tara muttered to Grace.

'Oh, Stop. So, do I get a raise?' Graced grinned excitedly.

'Oh, you'll get a raise' Tara agreed 'When you start getting the customers' orders right' she added after a pause.

'Mystery solved. She is not getting a raise in this lifetime' Sherlock chirped.

'Hey! I am a good waitress' Grace defended herself.

'I am still waiting for those doughnuts from a year ago' Greg said.

'I'll get to you' Grace shrugged innocently 'As soon as I figure out where I put those doughnuts' she muttered to herself but, everyone heard it and laughed.

'Mycroft' Rosie squealed and wrapped her tiny arms around his legs, as soon as he entered.

Mycroft grimaced at the show of affection. 'Hello, Ms. Watson?' He said as he tried to push her away from him, thinking what on earth had he done to deserve such affection. 'Is this yours?' He asked taking the toy dinosaur that had been abandoned. This child had a serious problem of abandoning toys that she claimed were her best friends.

'Yes, that's Ms. Deinonyphus' she struggled to pronounce the tough name that Sherlock had given to her new best friend. 'TM gave her to me. She is a dinosaur by day and a dragon slayer by night' Rosie chirped. Dragonslayer? Figures. A child growing up with Sherlock would have that.

Mycroft sighed and ignored how she completely mispronounced the name 'deinonychus' and the fact that she had mixed up the concept of dinosaurs, dragons, and dragon slayer. 'Good Lord! What've they done to you?' he muttered. 'Right on, off you go then.' He said and threw the soft toy away. 'Go on. Fetch away' he encouraged. She looked at her soft toy then back up at him but didn't move. 'What? Is that too advance for her?' Mycroft asked Tara when Rosie didn't move. Tara glared at him and shook her head in disapproval. Mycroft innocently shrugged in response.

'You're funny' Rosie said and grinned. She ran away from Mycroft and jumped into Tara's arms. Her giggles filled the room as she bounced in Tara's arms and played with her.

Mycroft watched Tara as she played with Rosie. The smile on her face was consuming. She was a natural. He could feel the strange feeling beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. It was the same feeling he got every time he saw Tara with Rosie; The happiness on her face. He couldn't help but wonder if he was depriving her of something. He pushed the feeling that threatened to creep into his heart, placed the gift he brought for Rosie on the table, and left the apartment, partly to get away from the festivities but mostly to avoid the feeling of guilt.

Mycroft stood outside the main door, leaning on his umbrella as he smoked a cigarette. It had become a habit of his to share his cigarettes with his significant other but today he was trying to avoid her. So, he stood alone and smoked in the busy street.

'Sherlock' he said when he heard the main door open and close behind him. Sherlock smirked as he came and stood beside his brother. Neither of them making eye contact. Mycroft reached into his jacket and offered Sherlock a cigarette. Sherlock accepted it and brought it to his lips, cupping the end as Mycroft lit it for him. He took a long drag and exhaled the smoke.

'I have a job offer I should like you to decline' Mycroft said

'I decline your kind offer' Sherlock plays along.

'I shall pass on your regrets' Mycroft smirked

'What was it?' Sherlock asked looking at his brother.

'MI6. They want to place you back into Eastern Europe. An undercover assignment that will prove fatal to you in, I think, about six months' Mycroft said as looked at the busy street.

'Then why don't you want me to take it?' Sherlock furrowed his brows in confusion.

Mycroft smirked and turned to his brother. 'It's tempting but on balance, you have more utility closer to home.' He told Sherlock.

'Utility. I do have utilities close to home, don't I?' Sherlock scoffed.

'Here be dragons. What have you found?' Mycroft shrugged and took another drag. The other file that Mycroft had entrusted in Sherlock a couple of weeks ago, he was curious as to what Sherlock had found out.

'Nothing. Everything checks out' Sherlock told him.

'Everything?' Mycroft raised an eyebrow at his little brother.

Sherlock turned to Mycroft and shot him a look. 'What else do you want me to do, Mycroft? Everything in the file checks out. There was no mistake' he repeats himself in frustration. He understood his brother's anxiety but he did not like being questioned.

'Are you absolutely sure?' Mycroft asked.

'Yes' Sherlock breathed out.

'Good' Mycroft nodded reluctantly.

'You don't think she is in any kind of danger, do you?' Sherlock asked seeing his brother's very obvious concern over the matter.

'No. Not any kind of immediate danger anyway' Mycroft took a long drag and coughed lightly. 'This isn't agreeing with me. I'm going in' he said and dropped his cigarette to the ground, stepping on it to extinguish it.

'You need low tar. You still smoke like a beginner' Sherlock comments as his brother walked away.

...