Chapter 3

The Man of the Brit government began to gather the plates and was quiet until he could no longer ignore Shay, "You should go do whatever is necessary too, Ms. Rhine."

Shay nodded. "Don't you have servants to pick those up?" She asked. She got up to put the dishes away, her hand brushing his as she picked up one of the dishes, Shay ignoring it to put the dishes in one of the efficiency sinks. Mundane tasks, she thought to herself. Stick to Mundane tasks to keep you from being nervous about this. This was the night she would either get her daughter back or be killed. Either way, needless to say, it would be exciting. She turned to Mycroft. When their hands touch Mycroft nearly jumped up defensively, though realizing it was accidental, he stopped himself and hid his anxiety with a sigh.

"May I please also have a .38 gun and a good pair of boots. These sneakers won't do well on the roof if we're going that way." She asked. Of course Mycroft wouldn't want her armed but hey, she had to protect herself.

"You are scared. Scared of what could go wrong. Scrubbing dishes will not help bring Alex back, if anything you need to think and focus on the task at hand. Details, we must remember all of the details. But yes, I can provide you with that as well, if it means helping Sherlock and John, then yes. But the um, the bullet vest, comfortable? Flexible and light enough?" Mycroft took a towel and dried next to Shay.

"Mr. Holmes, I've lived ten years of my life in constant fear. Fear motivates me at this point." She said, pausing to do the dishes. An awkward silence filled the room as they worked, Shay handing Mycroft the dishes to dry. She looked over at Sherlock and John through the glass wall in the office, curled up together in a nap and smiled a little. That thought occurred to her that she had never been in love. Jim and Seb of course were never loveable, perhaps at one point guardians, but not loveable. Maybe there was an illusion of love... James... along the way... Alex, her beautiful black haired, was the only thing Shay loved in this world. Alex, the reason Shay was even coming back to the mansion.

"It's funny really, how my daughter is such a motivator already at the tender age of five," she said, looking down at her dish. To be honest, if it wasn't for her daughter, she wouldn't be here. Unsure if Mycroft was paying attention, she picked up her eyes.

"I know you aren't a parent Mr. Holmes, but I think you know what it's like to have more care for someone that's not you," Shay sighed, "Too bad. It used to be so much easier too."

Not even showing the slightest hesitation, Mycroft continued to dry one dish, then took another without skipping a beat. It was true he was not a parent and was never good with children, the only decent encounters were if he had to meet his co-workers children at an event or the standard introduction. Suddenly Hamish came along and it was startling how much he looked like his father, Mycroft's younger brother. Even holding the baby in his arms brought him back to years and years ago when, despite his protest, his mother insisted he hold Sherlock as a newborn. Knowing this human being was once growing inside of another human being disgusted him, it was too weird, yet when the little hand gripped his finger Mycroft was startled. Really the grip was instinctual for every baby and stopping himself from thinking about it, he allowed the moment to be human. Sherlock found his big brother and was clinging to him tightly.

"So you thought that I did not care? Understandable."

"Well you obviously have some sort of care towards your brother of course," she amended, washing the final dish, handing it to him, "Of course, you care for your family. Everyone has to look out for their own family, right?"

It seemed like an odd sort of domestic, washing dishes with a government official while his brother and his brother's love slept in the next room over. She smiled slightly. Just a few days ago, she had been lounging on the couch, reading a book while her daughter was sleeping on her chest, Alex in a phase where she refused to take a nap or go to bed at all unless she knew someone was taking a nap with her. So Shay would usually take time after lunch to pretend to fall asleep so her daughter would take a nap, spending the afternoon either reading or cleaning her gun. In fact, Shay had been surprised how good she had become at cleaning her gun while a five year old was sleeping on her chest.

However that setup was awkward when Shay would be getting suited up for a 'Job' and her daughter demanded her mother to go to bed with her. God, Alex could be like her father at times. Or Moriarty had the temper of a five year old. However you wanted to look at it. It was quite awkward one time a few months ago when she and Sebastian had been in Jim's office loading their guns when an irate five year old came in, demanding to her mother that it was bed time, her teddy bear in hand. Outside she saw the sun was going down. So in a few hours they would going. The rescue.

She feigned a yawn, stretching her arms to the ceiling so her shirt rode up, quickly pulling it back down. "So, we've got a long night ahead of us. Do you want some coffee? I'll make it"

"I suppose," Mycroft shrugged lazily and raised an eyebrow at her shirt, "Yes, generally one does look out for their own kind, protects the DNA, keeping the lineage to continue-" he stopped when Shay gave him a look and he sat back down at the table, "Sorry, just thinking in logical terms... yes coffee would be nice," he repeated.

Although Sherlock's intelligence was almost equal to his (of course he saw himself superior being the first born), he at least had a way to at least attract a few people to him, maybe it was the way he would act like a child. Young at heart, unlike Mycroft. Perhaps he was just born old to begin with.

"I practically raised him," he said suddenly, "I uh... I feel responsible for his well being because it's my job. I have to, who else. John's an adequate replacement though."

"Doesn't mean he still doesn't need you. You and John just fill different roles to him in a sense," she brought up, stepping towards him, "There's roles obviously that John can never fill and roles that you can never fill. I think it's wonderful that Sherlock has such a kind support group around him. He's very, very lucky to have you, Mr. Holmes. Don't think that your position is any less because Sherlock has John and Hamish."

And in that moment, Mycroft Holmes seemed so human, so vulnerable to her. Of course she knew that he cared for his brother, yadda, yadda, yadda, but to hear him say it showed her this moment of a man who just wanted his brother happy because he himself wasn't happy. Shay heart melted a little, sitting next to him.

"For what it's worth, I think you're a very important part in your brother's life. Besides, Hamish must like you as his uncle. You're still there for Hamish." She pointed out.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Mycroft thought of Hamish and remembered the time he finally got to see him outside of the hospital, being a few days delayed when the government was pining for his services. Everyone was there: Molly, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade. All cooed and awed at the baby boy, a small black of tuff hair was present and the signs of curls were very possible. Sipping tea quietly, he sat at the desk while everyone else surrounded the babe in the middle of the living room, and it was not until John's prodding did he hold him.

Feeling very awkward, sitting there and carefully holding his new nephew in John's chair did a similar event occur. A hand ended up wrapped around his finger and that was when Mycroft knew he had another name to add onto the small list of people he had to absolutely protect. Finally, Mycroft looked to Shay and saw it. Saw that maybe before Moriarty wrenched the baby from her, maybe Alex held onto her, wishing to meet her mother and Shay welcoming her to the world. Yes her past was dark, disturbing, and full of negative choices.

Multiple times he had to deal with her, even as he rose the ranks. The next time one meet the other again, her risks would be more dubious as he infiltrated the government more and more. Despite all her mischievousness, law breaking, her eyes told a bit differently than the last times he met her, and keeping face, he secretly felt maybe she really meant it.

"I would do anything for him. Almost as much as you would do anything for Alex. Because, to be frank Shay, I cannot deal with you anymore. Already I am keeping it secret to my superiors that you are coming on with us on the rescue mission and if what you say is truth... I think that play date between Hamish and Alex would benefit their human interaction. Only if I find you no longer pose a threat."

Shay blinked for a moment. A play date between Hamish and Alex? So that meant that he trusted her. She gave a small smile, putting her hand over his.

"Yes, I think that would be wonderful. Alex would love to finger paint with a child her own age. I'm a terrible playmate of course for a five year old as you know," she said, giving a small smile, "Now, is there a reason why you 'can't deal with me'? I've had a feeling for a while I've been nothing but a bother to you. Something always brings me back to a Holmes in some way, eh?"

"Ms. Rhine, when I profile certain individuals they are generally filed into a special cabinet in my office due to the severity of the person's behaviors and crimes. You and the files of maybe nine other people are located within my personal desk and my desk at home. You have been a bother to me. When one begins crime at such a young age and builds a reputation as you have, even becoming a member of the Moriarty empire, is a general reason why we like to keep an eye on you," Mycroft answered and took the warm mug Shay handed to him when the coffee finished brewing.

"And I'm sure in that file you'd find similar data. That the nine other people and I were brought up poorly and turned to crime in a case of 'We'll take what's denied to us.' When I was on the streets, I thought nothing of stealing a simple pastry from a bakery or a bundle of bills from a tip jar. That was survival. Of course I was so good at pick-pocketing that I was being watched by Moriarty and Moran for weeks. And I'm sure you know the details.

"Mr. Holmes, do you think children grow up wanting to be criminals? Because most of us don't. I wanted to be a teacher when I was a little girl if you must know. But I knew that I wouldn't be able to afford university nor would anyone support me. Had you told your parents you wanted to teach you would have had a full ride to any university you choose I'll bet."

Moriarty had in fact found Shay when she was at her weakest. She had been getting sick with the flu for some time and she had become so sick that all she could do was lay on a park bench, trying to gather enough strength to get up. Moriarty had found her on that park bench and pushed a steaming cup of tea in her hands. He had Sebastian carry her to their hotel suite and put her to bed where they got her enough broth and medicine for her to make a full recovery. However she learned that she wasn't allowed to leave the suite and learned she now belonged to them.

"What a pretty little thing we found Sebastian, she's adorable! Shay right," he hummed merrily and was lying on his stomach at the foot of her bed, kicking his legs in the air, "Shay, yes. Well we been watching you for a little while. Very delicate hands, very nimble." After his compliments were finished and Sebastian entered back into the room, Jim crawled over next to her, smiling his friendliest with all his energy.

"We could use someone like you, such skilled hands. I mean, the two of us are just starting out but a helping hand wouldn't hurt. Don't give me that look, you don't understand? Simply, we want to be Kings, use our skills and what we have to turn this city around and rule it. Could always use a queen too, by your look at the fittest much can be accomplished," he grinned sincerely and held her cheek in his hand, steering her mouth near his, "We'll have everything and each other..."

"I'd rather not. If you don't mind, I'd like to go-" She stopped herself, about to say 'home'. But she didn't have that.

"The point I'm trying to make is Mr. Holmes, is that more criminals are doomed from birth. I see you looking for me and making sure that I'm behind bars. But I don't see any funding in the government to make sure that another girl like me doesn't face my fate. Yes, you're helping me with Alex, but that's because I have information to help you." She noted.

A criminal trying to prove a point and persuade him through pity... Mycroft did not say anything, choosing to look into his warm cup, neither desiring to admit it or agree. When he did look up to her, he saw the determination, the instance she was trying to prove to him, maybe even work out the logic within it all.

"I-... I guess if someone of Sherlock's character could fall and climb back up... do you know?" Mycroft asked suddenly, "Moriarty probably explained all about his past." It was maybe the fifth time Sherlock ran away and what was worse was it was during a blizzard and Mycroft was ordered to go find him alone. It was near Christmas time and they had been arguing about something, neither of them could really remember what the quarrel was nor did they care. Checking the usual spots like the park or abandoned warehouse, Mycroft was ready to give up when he decided to unwillingly explore the shady alleys down town. Then, over the howl of the wind, it had to mere coincidence-

"my... myy... My..."

The smaller body could have been overlooked in the snow bank that was piling high around him and after Mycroft dug him out, he found Sherlock had been nearly beat to death. Blood stained the pure, innocent snow and running down the street to the nearest safe restaurant or store, Mycroft cried the entire time. Sobbing even in the hospital as he waited for the doctors evaluation, continuous scolding from his father, and not ceasing until his arms wrapped around the bandaged younger brother who kept quiet.

"Shay. I am not sure how I feel about the subject, I provide an adequate answer, I am sorry."

Moriarty did in fact tell Shay all about Sherlock's past, at least what he knew about Sherlock's past. A lot of it was research she and Sebastian did, doing their research for weeks before Jim began attacking Sherlock three year ago. What she found of course was evidence that Sherlock had been on the streets for many times, something that she wasn't of course surprised with. And now, seeing Mycroft, she knew that she perhaps spoke too rashly to Mycroft's life.

"I'm sorry for making such assumptions," she said, putting her hand over his, "I know that you've had a hard time with Sherlock. Often I forget that. Please forgive me." She said, getting to stand up.

"N-no it's fine," impulsively Mycroft stood as well and clutched at her wrist. The two froze and locked eyes, Mycroft licked his lips and Shay licked hers. After what seemed like forever his fingers weakened and his arm fell limp to his side.

"You... you should rest only a few hours left," Mycroft mumbled and left the room, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Shay before closing the door behind him. Swiftly he worked his way through the maze of hallways and once the guards saluted him, he was outside, the sun was setting by this point. Fishing his hand into his jacket pocket, pulled out a lighter and pushed a cigarette in his mouth, fumbling with the lighter. All there were, were sparks. The flicker of light that was there, meaning it was possible, yet no matter how many times his thumb ran down, a flame never jumped up. Frustrated he threw the lighter to sidewalk, the sound of clang rang out in the quiet and he saw the glint of silver disappear into a bush.

Shay pulled had hand away, rubbing the spot where Mycroft grabbed on. What was he trying to get at, grabbing her like that? She looked over at Sherlock and John, who were still napping as she considered this. It just didn't seem right. She stepped towards where she knew Mycroft was, seeing him with an unlighted cigarette.

"Can I bum one?" Shay asked, "It's funny to see the sunset. The mission is so... delicate. It's easy to forget the stakes behind it." She noted, taking a drag from a cigarette. "This could possibly be the last time you see me." She noted. "But I'm sure you wouldn't mind that so much." She said, just to get him to respond.

"You really should rest," he noted with seriousness and took her light instead, mumbling a thanks, "Last time? Impossible. Shay, the Red Devil in Lipstick, the Mischievous Mama. Tonight is not your last night believe me. I think your stubbornness would stop any bullets that is, if there are any," his tone in bitter amusement. Why did this have to happen to him? Why was this woman back in his life again and again causing trouble, someone to wear down his defensive walls. Too many run ins. As soon as they retrieved Alex she could turn the tables on him, betrayal, and yet he was still helping her. Damn fool. Near equals in their respective fields, but was it proper to respect a criminal, work with them? Regardless Shay Rhine would have to be close by his side if he was to be sure that she would not cause more trouble. Better to hold the mad dog on a short tether, than allow it freedom. Yes, that was Mycroft's rationality.

She looked down at the cigarette, considering what he said. "I just- I know this sounds silly, but every job I do I get a little scared that something will go wrong. I'm sure you share the feeling but I have this sort of desperation that this night is going to be the last." She took a drag from her cigarette. "Of course, it never is. But all the same." She mused. "If this in fact my last night, I'll ask that Alex goes to Sherlock and John, if you don't mind. Due to my obvious bias I'd rather not have Alex in Foster Care."

"I was predicting you would ask that, they have the experience and everything. I have no time for a family, even if I desired one, the risk would be too much. Instead my immediate family will remain with Sherlock, though I do not know how long that will even last."

"Mmmm..." Sherlock rubbed his eyes and kissed the base of John's neck, snuggling further into John, "Still sleeping love?"

John woke up, curled up against Sherlock, his finer intertwining with his lovers. This was one of the moment John loved, being so curled up in Sherlock's embrace, feeling the warmth of him. If they were at home, this would also be the time where Hamish would wake them up and demand food. John moaned, rolling over to face Sherlock, rubbing noses with him.

"Five more minutes." He groaned to Sherlock, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips.

"Sorry I woke you up," Sherlock cooed and sighed, quickly summarizing where they were and why they were there. Shay and her daughter. One of their most intensive cases in so long, much was at stake, this time nearly involving everyone. Biting his lip, he pictured Mrs. Hudson cooking Hamish one of his favorite dishes, fish and chips, perhaps watching telly in their 'secret hideout.' Knowing him and John were at risk again, his stomach knotted and his mind went to a forbidden place of imagination.

"Well, well, well. He really has your eyes Sherlock..." The pitiful whimpering and crying was seeping out of the big blue eyes.

"Papa, please I'm scare-"

"Keep your fucking mouth shut," the hand yanked back on the small curls and a cry escaped the little mouth, "Sebastian maybe we should pull his baby teeth out now. Get a lot of money from the tooth fairy-"

"John. Promise me we'll get this right. Promise me we'll... rescue The Girl. We have to," Sherlock shut his eyes tight and gripped John, "Please. Do this for me."

John pulled Sherlock closer, letting Sherlock rest his head on his chest. "Shush, it's going to be okay." John soothed, rubbing circles into Sherlock's back. "I promise I'll make sure we're going to be okay." He kissed Sherlock's forehead, holding him to his chest. "I think that the first play date Alex and Hamish have should be at the zoo." He noted. "Hamish does love the Hedgehogs."

"Zoo... yes otters too... Alex might love predator cats. Lions, leopards, and tigers. I think we have an hour," Sherlock checked his watch, "We have to get ready soon but five more minutes. If tonight is our last night, then I want to be here with you and then call Hamish before we go in."

Sherlock wiggled up to meet John and kissed him gently, savoring everything about him. This memory had to be preserved, the details stained in his mind. Being wrapped up in a blanket his skin was still warm and cradling John's neck, could feel the pulse underneath his fingers. It meant he was alive. Absolutely beautifully alive, breathing and his heart beating, blood flowing throughout him.

"I love you John Watson. I never knew how much better my life could be until I met you."

John nuzzled his face against Sherlock's, the slight stubble on John's chin reminding him to shave. "Before I met you, I felt like I was just walking through a haze. But then I met you and I woke up." He kissed him, his thumb tracing the small of his back.

"Your beard is ticklish," Sherlock laughed softly, "Come on let's make the phone call." Pulling out his phone he dialed a number that no one else could have except for them and one other person.

"Hello? Mrs. Hudson...yes...I am sorry if I woke you... no it's nothing, John and I are fine... oh really? Ha! Yes, he would say that... Listen, can you wake Hamish? I know, I know past his bedtime, only John and I want to say hello- no please nothing dangerous I promise. I promise! Ok. Thanks... Hiya Hamish! Dad and I are here, I'll put you on speaker phone ok?"

"Ok! Papa? Dad?"

"Yep both of us here."

"Hi Dad! Hi Papa!"

John smiled at the phone. "Hello Hamish darling. Are you being good for Mrs. Hudson?" He asked.

"Of course, Granny is the bestest!"

"Best Hamish," Sherlock grinned and looked at John.

"Oh yes," Hamish stuck the tip of his index finger in his mouth in thought, "Why is you and Papa calling past bed time?"

John struggled not to cry. "Because we love you so much we had to call you up just to tell you, sweetheart. We love you so much that we had to talk you to right now." He answered, holding on to Sherlock's hand. "Did Granny read to you tonight?" John asked. Hamish's favorite story was Where the Wild Things Are. Mrs. Hudson most likely read that to him that night. "I just love you so much Hamish" All of this was too much for John, thinking of how devastated he would be if anything happened to Hamish like what was happening to Alex. John let out a sob, trying to keep himself together.

"Dad? What-"

"I insulted Dad again, too much of my teasing," Sherlock said quickly.

"Oh, Papa you can't do that, not nice," Hamish crossed his arms grumpily.

"I will apologize to him with a kiss, promise."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

John smiled at his son's voice, stroking Sherlock's back. "Daddy is sorry Hamish." John kissed Sherlock's forehead. "Hamish, I need you to be good for Granny, okay?"

"Course! And um... I love you too Papa, Dad... I um..."

"What is it Hamish, something to ask?" Sherlock asked softly, always knowing when his son had something to ask.

"Is it about the puppy sweetheart?" John chimed in.

"Um, no, but uh... can you sing Papa?"

The small voice rippled through his chest, and taking in a deep breath, needing to hold onto John's hand for this one.

"Come with me,

and you'll be

in a world of pure imagination.

Take a look and you'll see

Into your imagination

We'll begin, With a spin

Traveling in, The world of my creation..."

John smiled at his lover, holding his hand. Sherlock always had a soft spot for singing to Hamish.

"Sherlock? Sorry he fell asleep," Mrs. Hudson picked up the phone whispering.

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson, really," Sherlock swallowed the lump in his throat.

"We'll be home by morning Mrs. Hudson." John said, trying to ignore that there could be a chance that they wouldn't be.

"You better, I would like to make you boys breakfast, that is if we are allowed back into the flat!"

"Now, now Mrs. Hudson, it was to do a new monthly check for bugs, who knows might want to watch us."

"Well hurry them up and make sure all of them are removed, especially my bedroom. Goodnight!"

John said good-bye, hanging up the phone, reaching over to kiss Sherlock. "We're so lucky to have such a beautiful child." He said tears coming to his eyes over little Hamish.

"I know, I know," he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled John to him, "For Hamish and a future playmate."