Nothing seemed suspicious as the car pulled up outside the unremarkable house, the countryside surroundings as peaceful as ever, neither Mycroft or Sherlock hearing any signs of distress from within the house as they marched up the path and towards the front door, Mycroft swinging his umbrella more vigorously than Sherlock had seen in a long time.

"Woe betide the woman who dare to harm mother and father"

"Believe me, brother mine, I am not afraid to use this umbrella in defence of mummy dear and father"

Sherlock would have laughed at such a comment in any other situation, the mere notion of his brother using his umbrella as a physical weapon ridiculous to his mind but, as he took a glance at his brother's face, he began to realise that perhaps that umbrella was far more dangerous than he believed.

Laughter from within caught their ears as Mycroft opened the door and continued his brisk march towards the sound, Sherlock following close behind as they entered the living room and a sight met their eyes they had not thought to expect.

"Oh Mr. Holmes! Your stories are adorable; I would never have thought that Mycroft would be such a child as to play spacemen! I can only imagine how cute he must have been"

On the sofa opposite their chuckling parents sat a woman, hair falling down past her shoulders in the richest shade of mahogany that either brother had ever seen. Natural shade, Mycroft deduced, but highlighted with various other shades to strengthen the colour from her younger years. Eyes a vibrant shade of green, a side effect of the chemicals from the experiments, enhancing he pigments of her irises and creating the startling effect they had now. She was lightly tanned, clearly a physical trait from her father, Mycroft knew enough of her birth to know that it was not from the mother's bloodline.

Her dress sense was modest but classy, meant to create the illusion of normality, of comfort and trust. A simple red, knee length summer dress and black blazer, kitten heels adorning delicate feet. Mycroft could have scoffed at the thought. There was little left about this woman that could be described as delicate.

"Oh, speak of the devil! Such good timing Myc, we were just speaking about you, and Sherlock's with you, how lovely"

Mrs. Holmes was still chuckling slightly as she addressed her son's first, getting up from her seat and embracing both, ignoring the grumbles of protest as Mycroft began to create a plausible response.

"Yes mummy dear. But if you could please refer to me as Mycroft, it was the name you deemed me with and I am rather fond of it. Now, to what do we have the pleasure Nova? I have not seen you for quite some time?"

He would play her game, for the sake of keeping his parents out of the hell that followed in this woman's wake. She smiled at him, a challenge to see how far he would cooperate with her as she spoke.

"Well, I've been trying to get in contact with you for the past six months, but you never answered my calls. I was close to giving up but I was in the area and I remember you telling me that your parents lived around here so I thought, why not call in and ask if they had any idea of how to contact you. Such luck that you would be visiting today"

Mycroft clenched his jaw at her sweet tone, the impish smile on her lips as his father sent a scathing look in his direction.

"Mycroft Holmes, we raised you to be a gentleman, your mother and I. Miss Rose has proven herself to be a charming young woman and I am greatly disappointed to hear that you have been treating her so unfairly"

"My apologies, it appears that I have been rather lax in my attentions. Miss Rose, a moment of your time, if I may? Sherlock, remain here and do your duties as a son for a change"

Sherlock scowled as his brother led the woman out of the room, her height distinctly less compared to his brother as her head barely reach level with his shoulder. 5 foot four inches at best, a distinct lacking in comparison to his brothers towering six foot two inches.

"Oh she's such a lovely girl, it's high time your brother met a nice girl and settled down, he's not as young as he used to be and we do so want grandchildren"

Sherlock could only roll his eyes at the notion his mother was suggesting, had she not yet resigned herself to the idea that neither of her sons would ever settle for domesticity?

*Outside, front garden*

Mycroft stopped as they reached a safe distance from the earshot of his family, hidden behind the hedge as the woman before him simply continued to smile, her eyes scanning him as she seemed to process all the data his form could reveal before she spoke.

"Really Mycroft? A spaceman of all things?"

"To hell with your games woman! What do you hope to achieve? How did you locate my parents?"

It was then that her mask dropped, revealing the empty shell of a human that she truly was, his deductions suddenly failing to retrieve anything about the façade she had worn for his parents. Now all he could read was a husk of person who had never truly been able to live.

"I play no games Mr. Holmes. Games are not something I have had the privilege of compared to your 'spaceman' childhood dreams. I simply come to you with a proposition. And your parents were simple to find. Unlike you, your brother is forever in the spotlight and, through him, it's easy to track the origins of your birth"

He scrutinised her for a moment, detecting nothing short of honesty within her voice as she met his own eyes. Even her eyes seemed inhuman, dead and empty as he began to pace around her, his curiosity peeked.

"And what would your proposition happen to be, Miss Rose?"

"It is simple really. Civilian life does not sit right with me after my retirement from the field. In fact, I positively despise it, to be surrounded by those who will never understand the world that I see. And so, I turn to you, the only other in this world to live beyond seeing the truth of my existence, the only other to possibly understand what I see. Your assistant, Anthea I believe was her alias, died little over six months ago after an assassination attempt was made on your life and thwarted by the bravery of a single woman. Do you still believe her to be little more than a goldfish?"

At her words, something within Mycroft snapped, his umbrella aimed directly for her skull. Perhaps it was her mention of his late PA, her sacrifice still a little raw in his mind despite how well he was able to hide it from the world. As it was all those years ago, his movements seemed slow to her eyes as she smirked, cold and deadly as her hand shot upwards and gripped the oncoming object, pulling it forcibly from his hand and lifting her leg in a bent position before snapping it cleanly across her thigh, discarding of the pieces to the side as he took a step back, rage evident in his eyes.

"Do not test me, Mycroft Holmes, I am not a woman to be trifled with or threatened. I offer my skills to you as a means to keep you safe in the absence of another suitable option. Here be monsters, remember? What better protection than the truest monster of them all? In return, I simply ask to be rescued from this loathsome boredom. Do we have a deal?"

Her hand extended out to him, his eyes picking up the lack of callouses on the dominant hand where a gun would once have been held. There should have been evidence of her years of service and yet her hands were perfectly preened, not a single scar to prove that she had ever taken an injury. Something he knew first hand not to be true. He had done his research on her past, but had found that the majority of her information had been destroyed many years before their first meeting, even records of the DNA on the bloodied tissue she had left behind had been deleted from all the systems, the only remaining source of the truth now stood before him, making an offer that he found he couldn't resist.

"Accepted. But do not test me Miss Rose, I am also not a man to be trifled with"

"Wouldn't dream of it… Sir"

They returned to the house once more, lies of resolved 'friendship' to appease his curious parents as he began to process the countless possibilities now placed before him, pretending to listen as his dearest mummy crooned over the possibilities of both her sons having finally learned to socialise. Such delicious prospects he thought, to learn a secret so desperately contained, but how would he go about it? He smiled in satisfaction, he did so love a challenge for even his great intellect. Such a rare treat was meant to be savoured.

Although, for all her uniqueness, she would most certainly be replacing the umbrella she had broken.