Author's note: Hey everyone, I know I am behind in the Hidden Casebook, but I have gotten caught in writing up coming chapters and I haven't had time to edit the next part. So I am uploading a few sections here until then. As before the little one shots are in no special order and reading the series is a big help. This takes place back in The Hidden Child. As always, I only own Cassandra. Everyone else belongs to Doyle. Please review, but no flames.

It was the first time Cassandra Brennan had been left in Mycroft Holmes' care. His brother had arrived with the child in the late evening unexpected.

"Sherlock, what on earth is this about?" He had asked.

"A case came to my attention and I need to leave for Essex tonight. Watson and his wife are away. I need you to look after Cassandra."

"I hardly need to be looked after." The young girl protested. "Mrs. Hudson can look after me as she always does."

"We have talked about this. Now go unpack your things."

She left the room and Sherlock turned to him. "I know this is inconvenient, but the matter is urgent."

Mycroft sighed, but waved away the apology. "A fair warning in the future, Sherlock."

His brother nodded his head. "I trust you to look after her. She knows she must stay inside and I gave her enough work to keep her busy."

"You know I will keep my eye on her. You have my word." Mycroft promised.

"I have spoken to her on where she is to go if something were to happen. She knows what she is to do."

"I understand, however it will not happen, Sherlock. My agents have not reported anything amiss on Baker Street."

"But she was not taken from Baker Street was she?" Sherlock bitterly asked.

"You did what was right by placing her in a school in disguise. The child would have been unattended if she were left at the flat and could have been trapped there." Mycroft replied, knowing the subject was still sore to his brother and it would be better to let it drop.

"But she would have been better protected here."

On the other hand, the stubborn fool needed to be pointed out the oblivious every now and then. "By who, Sherlock? You would have been chasing this man down. Even doctor Watson would have been unable as he also has his practice and his wife. I unfortunately had been in a meeting with France. You must not start blaming yourself now."

Sherlock nodded his head firmly and gathered his bag. He stopped when the door and . "Cassandra still has nightmares. I doubt she will be open about it, but if she came to you..."

"I will do what I can."

The girl returned and Mycroft silently watched as his brother knelt down in front of her. He gently and with great care rested his hands upon her shoulders as he told her his last instructions.

"Finish all of the work I gave you. Including your Italian. Your spelling needs some improvement. And stop peeling the bandages at your wrist."

Cassandra frowned. "I can't help it. It itches and I want to see what it looks like."

"I told you before, you can't see the bone only the bruised skin." Sherlock reminded her.

"But that makes it interesting. The bruising should be gone by now. Why is is still there? And how does the bone repair its self?" The young girl questioned.

Mycroft watched as his brother shook his head with a small smile of a amusement. "You can ask Watson when he returns, but do not bother your wrist. And behave for Mycroft."

The child nodded her head, through she was a bit put out after the light scolding. "I will."

"I will be back in a few days."

"Less than a week?" Cassandra questioned.

"Are you doubting my capabilities? I will return I in five days. If I were to be later than that, I shall send a message."

The young girl nodded her head accepting the answer before embracing his brother. Sherlock returned it beliefly before pulling away. He stood up and with a nod to his brother left. However, it did nothing to wave away the uneasiness Mycroft Holmes felt as Cassandra Brennan was now in his care.

He had to clear his plans for the next few days, as he thought it would not do to leave the child alone all day. There was two meetings he could not miss but Cassandra assured him she would be all right for an hour or two alone.

His brother had left no further instructions. He had to learn on his own the girl hated turnips and asked too many questions. The books he had would have her frowning over them, rather it be the content or being difficult he never know, but they kept her busy. Cassandra did have nightmares as his brother warned, but she did her best to hide it. Mycroft never asked.

At the moment Mycroft was working on some paper work with Cassandra sitting across from him as she worked on her lessons. At a glance at the work, hr had raised his brow at the complex equations. However, Cassandra had a look of deep concertation and realized it was best to leave the child alone.

They worked in silence for sometime. Mycroft Holmes was caught up in his work and did not notice when the young girl had set down her pencil and was staring out the window. When he finally looked up from his work, he saw the way Cassandra was frowning and the worry line across her brow.

He coughed lightly. "Have you some trouble in your lessons?" He asked.

She jumped in surprise and then shook her head. "No, not too much."

"Then you are worried about what?"

The young girl sighed and looked out the window again. "Mycroft, if I ask you something will you promise to be truthful?"

"I will be as truthful as I am able, child." He answered.

"Do you think I am a nutter?" Cassandra asked softly.

Mycroft Holmes raised his brow. "A what?"

"Nutter."

"Where on earth did you learn such a distasteful word?"

"I-

"On the other hand, I do not wish to know. Now ask me the question again, but in proper English." The older Holmes demanded.

The child stared at for a moment. He knew his brother would have answered without hesitation, but Mycroft wanted the child to have some sort of proper British manner in her.

"Do you think I am mad?" Cassandra finally asked.

"My dear, you currently reside with my brother. Any sane man would turn the other way at the sight of his unruly habbits. I congratulate you for lasting as long as you have." Mycroft said.

"No, you misunderstood" She sighed as if she was the one who needed the patience . "I know things no one else knows at my age. I am taught differently."

"Yes, I am very much aware you are taught differently than others in the normal setting."

"But does that mean I am odd? Does it mean I cannot...coexist with others?"

Now having his full attention, Mycroft was surprised by the child's wording. "Whatever gave you that notion?"

"Because Fraud said-

Mycroft waved his hand banishing her thought away. "I did not ask for Sigmund Freud's thought on the manner. If I wanted it than I would have read his useless dribble." Mycroft wondered if he should not keep a better eye on whet the child read. "What had I asked for was your own opinion on the matter at hand."

"When I was Jane Morgan I tried very hard to be the way I thought she should be. I did the things the others did as best as I could. But I know things they don't. I slipped a little and they noticed. Only one girl would talk to me in the end. They thought I was odd and did not like it."

Mycroft did not need to ask who Jane Morgan was. He knew what had befallen the child a month before. Dispute the horrible events, the young girl was returning to the normalcy she was accustomed with. It was also the reason why his brother had left her in his care over the care of the fearless landlady."

"And do you think you are odd?" He asked.

Cassandra shrugged and rubbed at her healing wrist. "I don't know. I know I am different. I am able to notice things others do not. I can often remember things I read only once. Holmes tells me I am different than others all the time, but he means it in a good way. At least I think he does."

He looked back to the tender way his brother had spoken to her before he left. Even if he scolded her a little, it was only half hearted. "I believe my brother meant it as such."

"What do you think?" She asked.

What did he think? Mycroft leaned back in his chair. He had to admit when his brother first told him of Cassandra Brennan, he thought Sherlock had gone too far. He understood her father was a dear old friend of his, but to take in that friend's child? He did not understand the reasoning behind his action of taking in the young girl. It was not until the first meeting of the child where he was able .

Cassandra Brennan was brilliant. Not only was her mind great, but there was something about her that could see everything. She was able to remember what she read, she could solve a mathematical problem in minutes, and she could tell a persons intentions from a single glance.

Yet she had a loyalty so fierce to those whom she considered friends. She had emotions, yes, but Mycroft found it only added more to the girl. He knew that all od this would only shape the girl into a very sharp and intelligential young woman she was to become. He pitied those who went against her.

"I think, I think you a very smart young girl. I fins it difficult to see you as any other way. However, know this, if that ever does change you must only say the word. Sherlock and I will see you secede in anything you do."

"I don't want to be any different." Cassandra admitted.

"I am glad to hear it."

This seemed to please her as she turned back to her work. Later just as he was to retire for the night, the child appeared in the doorway. She was shaking and nearly in tears. Mycroft simply motioned her over and the child ran to him. He listened as she told him of the horrors of the room she had been kept in. Mycroft decided to see what his agents could learn about a white haired lawyer.