It's Tara's day off. She hardly ever took a day off, sitting idle at home was not her cup of tea. And with Mycroft of to work, she was bored out of her mind so, she decided to clean the closet. Not that it needed cleaning, since she shared it with Mycroft. But she had to do something to keep herself busy.
As Tara organizes their closet, she found a box full of files. Mycroft was a very organized person, even when he did bring his work to the bedroom, he was sure to take it back to the study when he was done. All the files were labeled with the names of women. One of them was named Elizabeth Smallwood. Tara curiously opened the file and flipped through its pages in horror.
'Well, that was oddly descriptive' she muttered and put the file back in the box.
When Mycroft returns home, he finds Tara sitting on the settee at the end of their bed, a familiar box sitting next to her. This was going to be a long night. He sighed and started to undress, getting into his pajamas.
Tara blankly blinked at him. 'Mycroft'
'Yes' he drawled.
She didn't really have a plan about how she was going to ask him about the box of contracts. 'Do you mind explaining what exactly is this?' she pointed at the box.
Mycroft smirked at how uncomfortable she was. 'It is a box of contracts. Non-disclosure agreements to be precise, with every woman I have ever slept with, preventing them from revealing the details of their dalliance with me' he said coolly. 'Well, not every woman I have slept with. There is another box' he added.
'Huh... So, there is another box' Tara laughed uncomfortably. There were at least 20 files in one box. She didn't have to do the math to understand, that was a lot of women. She had a lot of questions and her mind wouldn't be at peace until she got acceptable answers to all of them. 'The period of some of these contracts ...overlap' one would think she would be bothered by the fact that her partner signed NDAs with all the women he slept with, NDAs that described in detail their sexual arrangements. They were so detailed she couldn't bear to read them. But, she came from a place where people often used sex as a means to get their way so, she wasn't going to judge Mycroft for drawing up a clearly defined sexual contract.
'They do. And?' Mycroft couldn't help but smirk at his partner's discomfort. 'They were sexual partners and only that. Fidelity was not something I owed them' he explained and waited for her to process it.
Tara looked at Mycroft and nodded. Seeing that she came from a family where she was the only person, who understood the concept of fidelity, she could live with Mycroft's explanation. She understood that Mycroft had never cheated on her, he didn't have to say it out loud. So, she moved on to her next query. 'There is a file named Anthea Dawkins' she said calmly. With any other couple, this conversation would have held an entirely different tone. This couple however chooses to discuss it like it were an item on their grocery list.
'Yes' Mycroft nodded.
Tara looked at Mycroft, nervously. Having meaningless sex with women and making them sign a non-disclosure agreement before it, was not exactly fine but she could understand it. But doing it with your secretary. That was a whole different ball game, bordering on sexual misconduct at the workplace.
'She wasn't my secretary at the time' Mycroft said when Tara wouldn't stop staring at him.
Tara sighed in relief. 'One last question... Why didn't you ever sign a contract with me?'
Mycroft smiled and exhaled 'The clearly defined contracts were my safety net. You trusted me with everything. I owed it to you, to trust you. Besides what I shared with these women' Mycroft said pointing at the box of files 'will never come close to what you and I have' Tara smiled at nodded 'On second thoughts, you would have killed me if I had asked you to sign an NDA' Mycroft added. Tara laughed and smacked his arm. Mycroft pulled her close and kissed her forehead.
...
Security cameras flicker then settle back down. The guards in the security room look unconcerned and continue to play poker.
As usual Frank and Bob roam the grounds around the house, making sure there is no threat to the residence. Ripples of water spread across the swimming pool. Someone reaches up out of the water and yanks Frank in. Bob who was near runs towards the pool. He is shot by a silenced gun and he falls down by the pool. Wearing tactical gear, a man slowly rises out of the water with his rifle emerged. Two more operatives emerge. The three men remain in the water as they survey the area.
The team climbs a staircase leading to the inside of the house. As his comrades continue the young man stops to gaze upon the collection of antique vases, arranged neatly in the hallway whose walls proudly displayed several Victorian art pieces. As he admires the vases, he accidentally knocks one over.
'What the hell are you doing?' one of the older men turns around and whisper yells at the boy.
'Sorry' he mutters and follows the two men.
...
Tara jolts awake at the sound of the vase crashing. She pants and looks around their dark bedroom, switching on the lights before shaking Mycroft awake. 'Mycroft, get up' she whispers.
'What?' Mycroft replied in a gruff voice, turning on his side to face her.
'Mycroft, did you hear that?' she asked in panic.
'Hear what?' he asked, as he tries to adjust to the lighting of the room.
'It sounded like something broke outside' she told him.
'Darling, you probably just had a nightmare. It's nothing, go back to sleep' he said, before turning and burying his face in the pillow.
'No, I heard something, Mycroft. I am sure' Tara insists, nudging Mycroft awake.
'Fine, I'll go check' Mycroft said in exasperation before getting up and donning his robe.
Tara gets up and rushes to Mycroft's side to stop him. 'No. No. Just call Frank or Bob' she tells him.
'Fine' he agrees hesitantly and grabs his phone, dialling Frank's number, he brings the phone to his ear. When it's not answered, he dials Bob's number. 'They are not answering' he tells Tara 'I'll go see what's wrong' he makes his way to the door.
'No. No, Mycroft please no.' Tara begs him to stop.
'I'll be fine. Stay here, do not leave this room. Alright?' he tries to assure her.
'Mycroft...' Tara cries.
Mycroft cups her face. 'Do not leave this room. Do you hear me?' he tells her.
Tara hesitantly nods
...
When she didn't hear from Mycroft for minutes Tara makes her way out of the master bedroom. She entered the kitchen and froze when she saw the scene in front of her. Mycroft kneeling down on the floor. His face was swollen and bruised. Fighting was never Mycroft's strong suit. Two armed men standing in front of him and a third man standing behind him, struggling with a roll of duct tape.
'Hey there, beautiful' the man spoke and strode forward to Tara.
'Who the hell are you?' she whispered.
'Really, your boyfriend is down on his knees and that's the first question that pops in your head? We're friends' he teased
'Don't worry sweetheart we'll just kill you both, find what we need, and be on our merry way?' The other man said and caressed her cheek, sending a shiver down her spine. She pulled away.
'Please just take what you need and leave us alone.' She begged as her voice shook with fear.
'SHUT UP' he yelled and slapped her.
'Leave her alone. She has nothing to do with this' Mycroft growled, earning him a kick in the nuts, causing him to fall down.
Tara covered her mouth and let out muffled cries.
'Hey, buddy. There is no hurry at all. Take your own time. Keep doing that till the security arrives' The angry operative said sarcastically to the young man trying to cut duct tape with his teeth.
'It's stuck, man' he whined and then looked at Tara and Mycroft 'Excuse me, do you have a pair of scissors, knife, or blade?'
The leader shook his head at this, the young man was asking their target for help. What is he thinking? 'ANSWER HIM' He yelled at Tara anyway, pulling her hair and shaking her violently.
'Second drawer to the left' she whispered through her tears.
The younger man finds the scissors and cuts the tape, sealing Tara's mouth. He handcuffed her hands and forced her to kneel down next to Mycroft.
...
'Stay awake! Don't close your eyes' Tara said to him
'We'll reach the med bay any minute now and the doctors will fix you right up. Stay awake. You can't leave me. You promised' she cried
...
'Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, and reckless, and very stupid' she yelled at him while walking around his hospital room.
'I think you've made your point' he raised his hand slightly amused by her outburst.
'Why did you do it? It was incredibly reckless and stupid. Clearly, I didn't think it was a good idea. For heaven's sake, you could've died. Why would you do that?'
'Because you are my family. I know you would've done the same for me.'
'Yes, but that's not the point. It was stupid and reckless'
'And I would do it again' he smiled 'and you're just going have to learn to live with it'
...
The operative brought a sword to Mycroft's neck. Something in Tara snapped. She wasn't sure if it was more metaphorical than physical.
Mycroft closed his eyes in surrender and waited for his assassin to end his life when he heard a bone crack. The next thing he knew Tara was fighting the assassin.
She extended her leg backward, kicking the young man behind her throwing him on the floor. When and how she had managed to get her hands out of the handcuff was beyond Mycroft. She stood up and jumped, throwing a high kick to the next man's face, causing him to fall to the floor. She stomped on his face and moved forward to the next man who came to attack her. He came at her with a bat, she ducked, kicking him in the nuts. She snatched the bat from his hand thrusting it into his throat, probably giving him a laryngeal fracture. She grabbed the sword on the floor. But then the young man who was struggling with the duct tape had a gun to her head.
'You think I want to shoot a tiny brown woman and go home with that on my conscience?' he teased.
Such bullshit filled in his small impressionable mind. Racist and a Misogynist. In which direction is our younger generation going?. Tara thought before giving him a fitting reply.'Oh, I wouldn't worry about that... You won't be going home' she smirked, turning around she cut off the hand that held the gun and drove the sword through his gut. Amateurs.
'I'll do you a favor and not tell anyone that a tiny brown woman kicked your ass' she told the now bleeding young man and walked to Mycroft.
Mycroft stared at her as she cracked the bone of her thumbs and fixed her hand. He wasn't sure if he was awestruck or just shocked. If he was surprised, he shouldn't be. He had no reason to be surprised.
...
'She's still got the same fire.' the man from the bakery smirks at the computer screen, as it displays the security footage from the Holmes' residence and the whole scene unravels in front of his eyes.
The tech guy showing him the footage turned to face his boss. 'I don't understand. Why did you send them there, especially if you knew this was going to happen?'
'One should always test the waters before jumping in it' he traced his smooth jawline.
'Do you want me to send back up?' The tech guy asked.
'No. Sleeping beauty is waking up after a long nap, let's give her some time to wrap her mind around things. Send the clean-up crew' The tech guy knew what that meant. Cut all loose ends and clean up the mess. The rest was collateral damage.
...
'Let me see' Tara said as she forced Mycroft to show her his arm and his face.
He groaned in pain and threw away the ice pack he was using, letting her examine his injuries.
'You'll need at least two stitches...' she said examining his arm.
'No need. I'm fine' he said, pulling his arm back.
'JUST LET ME HELP YOU, WILL YOU?' she scolded and he agreed. He went to go get some gauze.
'Upstairs, in the left drawer of my closet there's a small box under my bras, get it.' She instructed Anthea, who was a little flustered. When her boss called her at 2 am in the morning she had expected it to be work-related or him asking her to pick up his take-out order, not him asking her to call a clean-up crew to take care of the three dead assassins in his living room.
'Why do you need that right now?' she asked in confusion.
'I need to stitch him' Tara tells her.
Mycroft returns and throws some betadine, gauze, and cotton in Tara's direction. Anthea still was in shock. Tara snaps Anthea out of her haze. 'Hurry up' Tara told her, Anthea still hadn't moved, this was not in her job description. 'Don't just stand there and stare at me. Hurry up! I need to stitch my man'
'Stitch?' she asked as if she hadn't completely processed what Tara had spoken earlier.
'In the closet, under Tara's bras ...' Mycroft tells Anthea as Tara begins to clean his wound
'I've already told her.' Tara says as she continues to clean his wound.
'Oh, so, you know. Go get it' he ordered Anthea and pushed her towards the bedroom.
'Are you a doctor?' Anthea stops on her tracks and asks. To say the woman was flustered was an understatement.
'Do you want to do it instead?' Tara glared at Anthea.
'Anthea just go and get that box' Mycroft orders and the young woman scrambles to her boss's bedroom. Anthea brought the suture kit and then went away to make security arrangements. Also, she wanted to get away from the house, it was a bloody mess and Tara was intimidating her.
Tara fills a syringe with some anesthetic to numb his arm but he stops her, refusing to take it. He could soldier through the pain. Tara sighed and put the syringe down and picked up the sutures. Mycroft sat still as Tara sutured his arm, only letting out a groan here and there. She was concentrating hard on his wound. With utmost focus and precision, she sutured his arm like a professional. His pain was almost forgotten as he stared at her. They hadn't spoken a word to each other since the attack. There were so many questions in his mind. Questions, he wasn't sure he wanted answers to. Mostly, he was worried about her. The silence in the room was deafening. The only thing that could be heard was them breathing. The tension between them could be cut with a knife.
She finally spoke 'I am sorry' her eyes not leaving the sutures, as she continued.
'For what?' he asked waiting for her to look at him, but she refused.
'I froze. I...' she didn't have words, still not wanting to look at him. She didn't feel the need to explain what she had done. He knew everything when he started their relationship. She continued to work on his sutures
'You saved my life.' He reminded her. She took forever to do it but she did save his life.
She scoffed 'At the nick of time. I don't know what came over me but I couldn't move. I am sorry' it was PTSD and she knew it well, so did Mycroft. Accepting it was an issue.
'It's okay. I am absolutely fine.' He reassured her. He was fine, he just didn't know if she was.
'He got so close to you' she said as she touched the wound near his eye. She had finally finished suturing and had mustered the courage to look at him. She caressed his face as her eyes teared up with guilt.
'I am alive. That is good enough for me.' He ignored the pain and cupped her face bringing her close 'Look at me. I am absolutely fine. Nothing happened. I am alive... We are fine.' He told her and pressed a kiss on her forehead. He brought her into a warm embrace.
Sleep didn't come easy that night. They both were stressed. But they eventually fell asleep out of exhaustion, to which they were thankful. The next morning was relatively quiet. They didn't talk much. Mycroft understood that she needed some time to deal with everything that had happened the previous night, he did too. He left for work as usual. When he returned that evening, he found that Tara's things were missing.
A note on his nightstand.
I need time -TM.
She was gone.
...