The air of the flat felt stuffy, stale as he viewed his brothers living room with a sense of distain. Filthy, dishevelled and, by his own standards, repulsive. He sat within John's chair, the good doctor out at work in his practice, Mycroft knowing that it was likely the cleanest surface to be found in the entire building.

"I trust you understand what I am asking of you, brother mine?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, swinging his legs high as he crossed them, fingers drumming against the arms of his own chair as he processed the request the request of the elder Holmes sibling.

"You're telling me that, despite the numerous informants at your disposal, all of your technology and all of your resources, you are unable to track down a single woman and expect me to do the task which you have failed in?"

Mycroft didn't miss the sarcasm or the mockery within the others voice, his brow furrowing slightly in reprimand as he chose his own words carefully. He would never rise to his little brothers goading or snide remarks.

"Not for lack of effort, I assure you. But this is no ordinary woman, little brother, she is the world's deadliest assassin… A creation of Baskerville, something I am sure you know spells nothing good. In four years, I have found no scent of her, she is a ghost, a nightmare told to children"

"But something has changed recently. Her pattern has changed in the past six months, I glimpsed a note in your journal upon arrival, not enough to make her easy to track, but enough to garner your attention once more"

Mycroft felt a twinge of annoyance that Sherlock had glimpsed the note in his journal, he should know better than to pry. But it was true and Mycroft would not stoop so low as to deny it.

"She has recently begun to show up on the grid, here and there, a card payment at Armani, a glimpse of her face upon a CCTV camera. But her movements are clearly not for lack of care"

"She is attempting to draw your attention and guide you too her with a trail of breadcrumbs. But why you?"

He nodded, mind sifting through the number of reasons as to why she would suddenly wish to be known. She could possibly be wishing for diplomatic protection? No, he had seen first-hand that she was not an opponent easily taken down, so protection could not be her motive. She required access to a new target? Not likely either, this was a woman not unlike himself or his brother it would seem, if she wished to find a person then it would be no difficult task for one such as she.

"She is bored… Bored of the monotony of goldfish. She knows herself to be extraordinary, knows that she is far beyond what is deemed normal. Baskerville made her into something terrifying, beautiful even in its horror and now she wishes to play with another predator"

Mycroft felt horror at his own explanation, unsettled that another had been drawn to him in such a manner. He abhorred any form of emotional connection, but if a new playmate was what she craved then why had she not chosen Sherlock. He was more into the whole 'friendship' notion after all.

"Don't look so alarmed Mycroft, I'm sure you will find her to be quite a formidable companion, besides, you have spent far too long alone and a playmate is long overdue"

"I am not lonely, Sherlock"

Sherlock simply smirked, eyes flitting down to his brothers mobile as it began to ring, a ringtone he had never heard on his brother usually quite boring mobile as it persistently played the chorus of Fergie's 'A little party never killed nobody'. A small knowledge of pop culture could be useful from time to time but why would Mycroft of all people have chosen such a ring tone for this specific caller.

"What is this drivel?"

The disdain for the music in Mycroft's voice quickly proved that it was not the elder sibling's choice for such a sound upon the device, but then who? He pressed the loud speaker as he answered the call, a distinct feminine voice coming from the other end as both brother looked at each other in shock.

"Ah, good morning Mr. Holmes, I trust you're having a lovely day?"

"Who is it I am speaking too?"

Her laughter was bell like, causing both Sherlock and Mycroft to furrow their brows in confusion. What was so amusing about his simple question?

"Do I truly fade from your memory so easily, my handsome friend? You were quite a nuisance for me that night four years ago, why, I am certain that no one beyond the lab team has ever lived long enough to see my mutation in all its glory before. And yet you can't even recall my alias"

"Morte"

His words are nothing more than a disbelieving whisper as his mind went into overdrive, her gentle voice continuing over the phone as he tried to process everything.

"Oh come now, Morte is so four years ago. You may call me Nova, yes I do believe I like that name a lot, Nova Rose. I thought my choice of ring tone simply perfect considering the circumstance of our first meeting. I must say, the security of your manor is very lacking, one such as yourself should see to his safety more carefully. It was such an easy task to break into your bedroom and add my contact and select the ringtone. You sleep like an angel darling"

Mycroft could feel his blood beginning to boil at her words, unwilling to show the level of his frustration as Sherlock seemed to shrink slightly into his seat, his brothers hidden wrath not something he wished to experience any time soon. The British government was not beyond throwing the mother of all tantrums if he so wished.

"Your parents are positively delightful by the way. Nothing like your good self or dear Sherlock, good morning to you too sweetie, I hacked into the surveillance your brother placed on your house, I can tell by the pattern of your breathing that Mycroft is sat with you now. Either way, tootle pip darlings, mummy and daddy Holmes are so delighted to meet a friend of their eldest that they simply couldn't resist offering a cup of tea"

The line went dead as ice ran through the veins of both Mycroft and Sherlock, both brothers on their feet and out of the door before Mrs. Hudson could register the slamming of their exit. There was no time for pleasantries when the world's deadliest assassin currently supped tea with ones parents.