"Mother you cannot be serious," Mycroft said with a frown. "Please tell me this is some sort of very unfunny joke. Which I hate, by the way."
Maud sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Myc, it's only an hour or just a tad more. They are three year olds and you cannot possibly tell me that you are frightened by three year olds. Are you?"
A dark eyebrow quirked. "If all three year olds are like Rose then yes, I am most certainly frightened of them." As if to prove his point, his tiny sister came running through the kitchen, covered in what appeared to be some sort of sticky, glittery substance, screaming happily as Sherlock trailed behind her making ridiculous noises.
"Do you see what I mean Mother? You want to send me into a horde of children like that?" Mycroft enquired.
"You are twenty-five Mycroft, not ten, and I'm quite certain you're capable of fending off a horde of adorable toddlers," Maud replied, shaking her head at him. "I've got a deadline and a meeting and Baby will be devastated if she has to miss her ballet today."
"She's three; she doesn't even understand what that means!"
"Do you understand the meaning of your mother is growing angry with you because you're being ridiculous?"
Mycroft scowled darkly at her. "Fine. But I don't have to be happy about it."
Maud rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you'd think I was sending you into combat or refusing to make you a cake ever again for as long as you lived. Take the baby to ballet, sit in a chair and watch her quietly, and then bring her home. You don't even have to speak to anyone if you don't want to."
She was well aware of Mycroft's sensitivity to being identified as Rose's father, something she quite frankly did not understand, and his overall distaste for pushy parents singing their child's praises. Though that was largely because he did not appreciate strangers beginning conversations with him that involved shoving photographs in his face and possibly making comparisons to Rose, by whom the sun rose and set. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone, but Maud knew it was true just the same.
For all his grumbling and dislike of normal people, Mycroft was ready precisely on time to take Rose to her class. He watched as she slowly descended the stairs, her little hand gripping the railing as best she could. Mycroft smiled proudly at her. "Someone has been listening very well today. I wonder who that might be?"
Rose jumped from the last step onto the floor and ran into the entry way. "Me, me, me!" She announced, waving her hands to emphasize her presence to her much larger brother.
Mycroft went down on one knee and let her run into his arms. "That's a very good girl poppet," he praised. "Very good not to run down the stairs and hold on to the banister. Do you remember why we have that rule?"
"Because if I run down the stairs and fall I might break my head and then Sherlock will get a spanking and cry very muchly because you're mean," Rose answered as he scooped her up from the floor.
"Mostly correct. It may or may not be Sherlock's fault should you tumble and become injured, but if it is, he will most definitely get a spanking. And I am not mean, our brother is simply a troublemaker," the eldest Holmes corrected. "Sind Sie bereit für zum Tanzen kleine Ballerina?" [Are you ready for class little ballerina?]
Rose nodded, her curls bouncing with the movement. "Ja! Wollen Sie mich begleiten?" [Are you bringing me?] When her brother nodded in response, she let out a squeal and kissed his cheek before abandoning German and returning to English to exclaim, "Hooray! This is my favorite day!"
Grabbing her hideously pink bag from the floor, Mycroft carried his tutu-wearing sister out to the car as Rose continued to chatter about her new friend and all the nice ladies, and umpteen other things. He noted with some satisfaction the way she somehow seemed to easily transition from English to German and back to English again throughout said chattering. Which one she spoke, he noticed, was generally determined by which language he used to respond and whether or not she knew the proper word she wished to use. He'd always known she'd be brilliant.
If only she could be a bit more quiet and reflective like himself, Mycroft thought as he pulled out of the driveway. Then again, he wasn't entirely certain home would seem like home without her constant giggling and squealing. Funnily enough he couldn't quite remember what home had sounded like before Rose came along.
As soon as Mycroft took her out of the car seat and set her on the ground, Rose took off running for the door of the studio. "ROSE!" he called out sternly. "Come here."
The tiny girl half drowning in pink skidded to a stop and slowly turned around to see her brother still by the car.
"Come here," Mycroft repeated. He waited, mostly patiently, while Rose rather shuffled her way back over to him. Once she closed the few feet between them, he squatted down to try and look her in the eyes. Considering there were some two year olds taller than Rose it didn't quite work, but he did his best. After all, he wasn't going to sit on the ground to be at eye level with her!
"You are not old enough to go running off by yourself," Mycroft told her in a firm tone. "You are to stay with me and hold my hand. There are many cars here and you are incredibly small. They might not see you and you could be injured. You either hold my hand or I will carry you inside. Which would you prefer?"
Rose had ducked her little head down by the time he offered her the options for crossing the parking lot, making him feel like a bully. Mycroft knew he wasn't and safety was non-negotiable in the Holmes household so he was really just upholding the rules. Yet Rose could be particularly sensitive at times, when one's tone was just a bit too firm or a voice was raised too high. He let out a sigh and was just about to scoop Rose up for cuddle, on lookers be damned, he heard her mumble something.
"Pardon?" Mycroft asked.
"'m sorry," the little ballerina mumbled once more.
He could see her lower lip beginning to wobble and quickly picked her up, hoping to stave off tears. "I know poppet, I know. You must remember to think, that's very important. We must always play safely and do things safely. Parking lots are dangerous, so we'll go together so we're both safe," he explained. "Can you keep me safe if I keep you safe?"
Instantly her lip stopped trembling and she looked up at him with wide, bright blue eyes. "I'll keep you safe My!" Rose assured him with a firm nod.
"Do you want to hold hands and walk together, or should I carry you in?" Mycroft asked again.
"Hold hands, because I'm very big now. Tell me again how big I am," Rose requested as he set her down.
"Well…" With one hand holding her tiny one, Mycroft looked at the watch on his other wrist. "As of this moment you are three years, six months, two weeks and nine hours old." He watched her face light up with a smile at his words. "So yes, you are getting very big. Come along now or we'll be late."
It caused no small amount of whispered chattering when the two Holmes siblings entered the dance studio. Rose was readily recognized by students and staff but the man beside her was not familiar at all.
"Hello Rose!" a woman called, waving at the little girl. Mycroft watched as Rose hurried over to the woman and the ballerina beside her.
"'Llo Mrs. Gardner! 'Llo Lou!" Rose hugged the other woman before practically tackling the other girl.
"Where's your Mummy today Rose?" Eleanor asked as she ruffled Rose's curls.
"Mummy has work things so my My bringed me today," Rose announced with a smile. "He never did that before and now he's here and gets to watch me, and we walked in the lot together and were very safe."
Eleanor gave her a smile. "That's wonderful darling. You and Louise should put on your toe shoes now." She watched as Rose nodded and scurried back off to her big brother. She couldn't help but feel a bit amazed that this young, overly dressed man was Maud Holmes's child. He looked so forbidding and downright grumpy. Surely no child of Maud, who was a more subdued adult version of her daughter, could have such a surly and reserved son. Yet, for all her confusion at the enigma that was Mycroft Holmes, the youngest Holmes clearly found him anything but intimidating.
"Why can't you put on your own shoes?" Mycroft asked, quirking an eyebrow. "I know you know how."
Rose gave him a bit of a pout. "But I want you to do it My! Please! All the other Mummies help their ballerinas," she pointed out, waving her hand at her friends.
Mycroft rolled his eyes. "I am, quite clearly, not our dear mother. You will…" His voice trailed off as Rose began sniffling. "Oh for god sakes. Fine, I'll do it." Lifting Rose off the floor he sat her down on the nearest visitor's chair. He then went down on one knee and began unlacing her sneakers. "Sie sind eine sehr lächerliche Mädchen." [You are a very ridiculous girl]
"Ja. Aber ich liebe dich My," Rose replied. [Yes, but I love you]
He gave her a small smile and rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb. Once her sneakers were removed and her ballet slippers on, Mycroft sent her on her way with a pat on the bottom and took a seat. Immediately he crossed his arms over his chest and a scowl that was meant to put off all around him.
"You must be Mycroft," a female voice spoke up.
Mycroft turned his head to see the woman Rose had run up to earlier. "I am indeed," he responded, looking at her expectantly.
"Eleanor Gardner. Louise's mum. I don't plan to bother you, I just wanted to say hello. Your mother and I have become friends through our little ones. Give her my best will you?" Eleanor extended her hand and was pleased to find Mycroft shaking it.
If there was one thing that Mycroft could be credit as having, it was impeccable manners. He shook the woman's hand and gestured for her to have a seat, smiling to himself when she did so and kept her promise not to bother him.
An hour later the little ballerinas were dismissed from their lessons and immediately sought out their parents. Most greeted their little ones with loud exclamations of how great their talent was and how amazing they'd looked, accompanied by big hugs and smacking kisses.
All except two.
Rose scurried over to Mycroft, similar to her fellow dancers, a bright smile on her face. She helped herself to his lap, with a little bit of help from her big brother, and leaned back against his chest. "'llo My," she greeted.
Despite his typical reserve when among the masses, a smile tugged at Mycroft's lips. "Hello to you as well poppet," he whispered. "You did very well today, especially with pointing your toes."
Her face lit up with a huge, bright smile and Rose let out a little sigh of contentment. They didn't need big shouting excitement, hand clapping, and big smacking kisses. That was just not their way when out in public, she and Mycroft. But that was just fine, because My was her My and they loved each other in their own way.
"Did you remember to thank your instructor?" Mycroft asked.
"Oh, I forgot!" Rose slipped off his lap and ran over to her instructor and hugged the young woman tightly. "Thank you Miss Sarah! You are very lovely."
Sarah laughed and bent down to kiss the top of her head. "You're welcome Rose. See you next time."
Rose ran back to Mycroft and took several minutes to put on her sneakers and carefully tie the laces before they made their way to the exit. "I don't want to hold hands," she said when they reached the door.
"Not holding hands isn't one of our options, remember?" Mycroft said in a firm tone. "Why don't you want to hold hands like a big girl?" He let out a sigh as Rose hugged his leg and pressed her face against it for a moment before peeking up at him.
"I want you to carry me," Rose said, giving him a little smile.
Another sigh escaped the eldest Holmes. "Must we?"
"We must," the toddler said firmly. "Because I want a cuddle."
"You're a troublemaker Rosenwyn Holmes," Mycroft muttered as he scooped her up. "What am I going to do with you?"
If he had hoped to gain some sort of idea of just what to do with her, Mycroft was sadly disappointed as Rose's only response was a giggle as she began playing with a button on his waistcoat. "But I suppose you're my troublemaker and we're quite stuck with one another, aren't we?" he mused. Really, if he thought about it, that wasn't such a bad prospect.
NOTE: I am not a native German speaker, so if there are any readers that are and find fault in my admittedly tenuous grasp of your language, please do let me know so I can fix it!