NOTE: Written by special request of a dear fan who is feeling icky and wanted some little Rose and Mycroft fluff. Feel better hon!
Mycroft Holmes looked down at his mobile with a frown. It wasn't that he didn't recognize the number, because he did. It was the number of Rose's school. He knew this wasn't going to be a good call and it couldn't come at a worse time. He was due to meet with Her Majesty in twenty minutes. In fact, at right that moment, he was in Buckingham Palace.
"Mycroft Holmes," he answered dully.
"Mr. Holmes, this is Andrea Bishop at-"
"At Rose's primary school, yes," Mycroft cut the woman off. "Is she alright?"
"There's been a bit of a scuffle and she's been taken to surgery for stitches."
"What?!" Mycroft demanded. "Stitches?"
"Yes, sir. She'll be alright. But she needs someone to pick her up. She's back and in the nurse's office; she's quite upset."
Mycroft groaned loudly, drawing attention from staff nearby. He completely ignored them. "That's not possible right now. Must she be picked up?"
"Yes, sir."
Of course it would have to be today, right before his meeting, when mother was in Italy and Sherlock was still in his own classes.
"I cannot get away just now. My assistant will pick her up momentarily." Mycroft promptly hung up on the primary school. He spoke briefly to his assistant, instructing her to go get Rose, take her home and stay with her.
"But sir, what if she won't go home?"
"She's four. You cannot handle a four year old, Hubbard?"
"Uh, right. Yes, sir." She nodded and scurried away.
A door down the hallway opened and Mycroft turned in the direction of the noise. "Mr. Holmes? Her Majesty would like to see you now."
The tea tray had just arrived when a war started in the hallway. Or at least it sounded like a war. The Queen looked at the door in astonishment as people started shouting and the sounds of sobs could be heard.
"Oh dear god," Mycroft murmured, closing his eyes. How the hell was he going to explain that his assistant couldn't handle an upset four year old? Before he could even get up from his chair, the door opened.
The shouting stopped and a tiny girl flew into the room and practically launched herself at Mycroft, who had had enough practice at this to catch her before she fell on the floor.
"Sir, I'm so sorry. I really tried," Hubbard said quietly. The poor woman looked petrified. Mycroft was glad of that, and gave her a particularly stern look. "Your Majesty, I'm so sorry."
The little bundle that Mycroft managed to catch attached herself to him, pressing her face against his neck and sobbed as if the very world had come to an end, babbling through her tears. He instinctively began to soothe her. "Shhh, it's not that bad," he murmured, rubbing her back. "You must calm down now. Please Rose, you must calm down. I'll make it better, whatever it is, I promise. Just please stop crying!" He gave the Queen an apologetic look.
"Rose, you're in Buckingham Palace and the queen is here, you have to stop crying right now," Mycroft hissed. He was slightly taken aback when the woman in question frowned at him.
"Whatever is the matter, little one?" the Queen asked.
The sound of someone else caused Rose to momentarily pause in her tears and Mycroft seized the opportunity to extricate her arms from around his neck. He turned her around in his lap and watched his little sister's eyes grow wide. "See? Buckingham Palace and the Queen. She asked you a question, you must answer it," he said softly. He took his handkerchief out and dried her face.
"Are you really the Queen?" Rose asked. She pushed Mycroft's hand away when he tried to smooth the abundant black curls down into a bit more orderly fashion.
"I am! You must be Rose," the older woman responded.
Rose nodded. "Yes. I got hurt at school and I don't like Hubbard," she stated as if that explained everything.
"And disliking Hubbard is a sufficient reason to have a wobbler in the hallway of Buckingham Palace?" Mycroft asked, giving her a look.
She pouted and pushed some curls away from her forehead. "I got stitches and it was awful," she told him, her lower lip trembling.
Sure enough, there were three stitches just above the hairline. "You did get injured, didn't you?" he said softly, hugging her tightly. "My poor Rose. What happened?"
"Two boys were making fun of me, because I'm little and I told them to shut up, like Sherlock always tells you," Rose began. "And then one of them pushed me and I fell and hit my head. I just wanted to play too! It wasn't nice! And it hurt when they put them in and you weren't there!"
"I'm very sorry I wasn't there," Mycroft said sincerely. "But I really need you to go home with Hubbard. I have to work. I'll bring home a special treat."
Rose scowled and said firmly, "No."
"That's a familiar look," the Queen said with a chuckle. "Would you like some tea, my dear? And biscuits?"
"Your Majesty, please don't feel compelled to indulge her," Mycroft said quietly. He was completely ignored and Rose slid off his lap and approached the tea tray.
"Milk?"
Rose nodded.
"Sugar?"
"Two please," she answered.
The Queen fixed Rose's tea and handed her the cup and saucer, watching as the little girl sat down beside her brother.
Please don't let her break it, Mycroft thought.
"So you must be the Rose that wrote all over that document a while back in Mycroft's office," The Queen said. "With your name. Were you just learning to write?"
"Yes ma'am," Rose answered. "Mycroft was very angry about that. I'm sorry."
"Oh, that's alright. You didn't get in too much trouble did you? I know it's very exciting to learn to write letters and your name."
"I'm not supposed to write on paper that has writing on it. Just plain paper and color books. And not the wall either," she said dutifully.
The Queen chuckled. "Is Mycroft a good brother? Yes, I do see how uncomfortable you are Mycroft. I'm quite amused presently."
Rose nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes! He's wonderful. Sherlock too, 'course."
"Of course," the older woman agreed.
"He takes good care of me. I hope he goes and yells at those boys because that's not okay," Rose added. "Are you going to go shout at them My?"
Mycroft coughed and shifted uncomfortably. "Well… someone will be yelled at, that I can assure you."
"You should poke them with your brolly," Rose decided.
"We do not poke people with umbrellas, Rosenwyn," Mycroft replied sternly.
The little girl gasped. "You do too! You poke Sherlock with it all the time so he'll leave you alone! I saw it Mycroft. It's naughty to tell lies."
His entire face went red and Mycroft had to resist the urge to do more than just poke her with said umbrella.
The queen burst out laughing. "Oh, my dear, you are a delightful little thing!"
Rose beamed. "Thank you ma'am!"
"Her Majesty, Rose," Mycroft corrected.
"Thank you Her Majesty."
Her brother rolled his eyes. "You did that purposely. You're awful."
"I know. You too." Rose put her cup down after a few sips and helped herself to Mycroft's lap.
"Can I take him home now, Majesty? We need to do maths and French."
"Well, I do need to speak with him," The Queen admitted. "Just us adults."
"That's not any fun. I'm lots more fun."
Mycroft pinched her arm gently. "Behave," he murmured.
"Do you have to keep Mycroft for a very long time?"
"Not too long, no. Would you like to have a tour of the kitchens here? I could have someone take you on a tour and when that's done, Mycroft will be ready for you to take home," the Queen offered.
"Can I eat lots of biscuits?"
"Why not?" The Queen laughed.
"I could think of a few reasons why," Mycroft murmured.
Rose looked up at him. "The Queen said, My. And she's more important than you. She has a crown and everything. So if she says I can have biscuits, we should listen," Rose told him seriously.
Then she shifted her direction back to the Queen. "Majesty, can we invite Sherlock and then have a party? You have lots of room," she pointed out.
The woman laughed. "Not today. Perhaps another time. Are you ready for your tour?"
She nodded, and then moved around on Mycroft's lap so she was sitting on her knees. "Kiss it better," she whispered. "Like Mummy does."
It was really unfortunate that he was rather attached to her, because right then Mycroft wanted to strangle her.
"Please, My?"
It was a losing battle and Mycroft knew it. He surrendered and kissed her head near her stitches.
Rose immediately responded by kissing his cheek in return. "I'll eat some biscuits for you," she whispered. "Love you."
"Love you," he whispered in her ear. Mycroft was certain he began melting when Rose rewarded him with that beautiful smile of hers. "Be a good girl for me. Promise?"
"Promise!" Rose slid off Mycroft's lap and followed a butler out of the room to take her tour.
"I'm so sorry for all that," Mycroft said once they'd left. "I told my assistant to bring her home, not here. Clearly I need a new assistant."
"Don't be concerned about it Mycroft. I've had children of my own, remember? Grandchildren too. She really is a sweet thing, and I don't blame her for being upset. Don't think anything of it." When a fresh cup arrived for Mycroft to have tea, the two began their business.
An hour later Rose and Mycroft sat in the back of a black sedan. "Are you mad My? That I came?"
"Well you really shouldn't bully Hubbard. That was very naughty to tell her you'd run away if she didn't bring you," he scolded.
"She was very silly to believe me," Rose replied.
"That's an excellent point. She and I will discuss that at length. I really need to add 'minder' to the description of the position as my P.A.," he mused.
"I like her."
"Hubbard?"
"No! Her Majesty. She's very nice. They make good biscuits at her house."
Mycroft gave her a look. "You're not going to be hungry for the rest of the day, are you?"
She shook her head. "Prolly not. I ate lots and lots of biscuits because she said I could."
He sighed heavily. "Do not tell Mother when she comes back that that happened. Queen or no queen, she wouldn't like it if all you ate for supper was sweets."
"Would you be in trouble?"
"No."
"Then why can't we tell her?" She looked genuinely confused.
"Because I said so." He gently poked her nose with a finger.
She laughed and snuggled as close to him as the seatbelt would allow her to. "I really do want you to poke those boys with your brolly. Why else do you always carry it around for?"
Mycroft rolled his eyes. "You're an impossible girl, Rosenwyn Holmes."
Rose sighed contentedly when he wrapped an arm around her. "Love you too, My."