Author's Note: Hi guys! Thanks for the awesome feedback! This is the last of the necessary holiday chapters. I'm still feeling quite sick, though finally starting to improve, so I feel a bit meh about it but, hey! I have a few questions at the end but for now please read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Clearly I don't own Sherlock. The show is the baby of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss, while Sherlock Holmes itself is the creation of Arthur Conan Doyle.

Margot's First New Years

It should be of no surprise that the couple who don't usually celebrate holidays had no plans for New Years. Nor at this point were either of them, even Anthea, particularly interested in such. Anthea had more of that social pressure of it being a 'special day' and feeling like maybe something should be done to recognise it but Mycroft not so much. A random day picked in the Earth's cycle that marks the passage of time and one that needs to be adjusted for every 4 years. That's what it was to him.

Anthea wouldn't mind passing it reading and sending out a generic happy new year's message if it wasn't for that tiny hint of social pressure. Given that she was new mother with not that many friends its not like the offers to party were coming from anywhere. Molly had probably picked up a shift and wasn't the type to host anything anyway. Sherlock wasn't going to do anything, John had Rosie, and Jamie had Hope. Until the girls were a little older the chances of an all night long gig without visiting Robbie seemed impossible.

That's okay because an offer did come up. A nice, quiet, and rather unexpected one. A rather enthusiastic one too. It was like a certain someone had been waiting for years for the people in her life to catch up in level of maturity – or tiredness.

Carol, of all people, had come by the office to take Anthea to lunch. Apparently Carol was so unused to hosting social events that she felt the need to have one to invite someone to one. Well Anthea had lunch. Carol had coffee and a pastry.

"James is excited." She said, fingers picking at the pastry rather than her eating it. She stopped and made a point to roll her eyes. "But he'd get excited if I invited him over to help clean the garage." It was true. He'd be the same for Myc. Anthea snickered. "But Jamie is for and she's the wildcard for me. More than your boss is." Probably because Mycroft and Carol understood each other in that profound way only fellow quiet people got. Jamie's vivaciousness could scare off the unprepared.

Carol's plan was simple but well thought out further proving to Anthea that she and her husband had wanted to do something like this for years. Maybe they had but never with Carol's friends.

Were they Carol's friends? Anthea was…. But the others?

Surely…

It started with Katie apparently. Katie at the age where she's too cool for New Years. She and her friend were going to sit around watching movies all night and that's when Carol the agent had struck. Offering payment of pizza and a whole bunch of junk food Carol had convinced Katie and her friend to look after Hope and Margot for a few hours while the real grownups went out to dinner. Apparently there was also promises of taking the two girls to lunch but the real payment was the junk food.

Going out to dinner for New Years. My, how grown up of Jamie to agree to that. She did have a one year old and would probably go home and stay up until at least midnight anyway but it was still very impressive. Even Mycroft would have to be impressed. It would be grown up of Alice too, had Anthea not already become quiet accustomed to being around snobby people.

Anthea nodded, her lips pursed. It was a good idea. She liked it. It sounded intimate, peaceful, and with only the right people. Also good food sounded better than loud music when you live with a crying baby.

"I like it." She said as much. "But…" Mycroft.

"He goes to weddings for you." Carol offered. "He doesn't hate anyone there." She leaned back in her wooden seat. Those small café seats always seemed so tiny under the likes of Carol and James. They weren't made for people who work out very regularly and were very tall anyway. "I did some calculations and even talked to James about it." He was the strategist out of the two officially at work, after all. It was still funny enough to make Anthea snicker. "And we think there's good odds of him wanting to go if you want to go."

A beat.

Carol leaned forward.

"If you want to." She said. Anthea laughed breathlessly.

"I do." She said. This time she rolled her eyes to make the point. "Alright. I'll ask him." She said. "He's been strangely malleable since Margot came around anyway."

Speaking of proving points; Mycroft not only said yes. He offered to through his influence around a bit to get good reservations at a good restaurant. Not too fancy; both on Carol and Jamie's orders. Fancy enough on James'. James wanted fancy.

Mycroft had always been a pushover with family. Further proof that Margot had cemented Anthea in the Holmes family forever?

Dinner was in fact a good idea. It was fancy enough for James to get excited about but not too fancy for Jamie to feel completely out of place on an evening away from her life at home. Carol and her husband clearly had fun and that alone was quite something special. Even in a good mood a smile on Carol was rarer than a smile on Mycroft. To do this for her felt deserved. She was quite easily forgotten in the larger scheme of things.

Really Anthea wouldn't have wanted anything else. She got to be her sly sarcastic self over good food with her best friends. Then she got to go home late enough but spend the last few hours of this year in the peaceful quiet of her home. It was perfect for both Alice and Anthea. It all suited both sides of her quite well.

James and Jamie were going to stay at Carol's until midnight by the sounds of it. Hope was out and they were just going to hang around chatting. Anthea didn't even think about asking Mycroft if he wanted to stay, she didn't really want to anyway. They were on the same wave length with that type of thing.

So they weren't going to bed yet. Random chosen day in the earth's cycle or not – for someone who didn't sleep having a legitimate reason not to sleep was always welcomed. And Anthea was all for the random chosen day out of sheer habit and determination.

So what do you do? You get home from a large meal with a squirmy little baby. The baby is worked up and not ready to go to sleep and while you're contented and could probably sleep you don't want to. Reading is always a great idea but it's so easy to fall asleep after two or three chapters.

"What do we do now?" Anthea said as much Mycroft as they entered the living room. The genius shrugged. He paced around the room and fiddled with things, pushing them into the correct place. "We have to do something." Anthea said.

"Why do we have to do anything noteworthy or special?" Mycroft asked. He looked over his shoulder to receive a bemused expression from Anthea; eyebrow quirked and lips pulled into a tight line. He smirked and let out a breathy noise that was clearly a chuckle. Anthea laughed too.

"Really, Myc." She said. "I can go read in the bedroom but…" She looked down and stroked Margot's head. The baby blinked with her beautiful deep blue eyes. Anthea wanted to spend some time with this little loser before she passed out and still had that urge for special holidays for Margot. "This one's not ready for bed." Is what Anthea said. Mycroft hummed thoughtfully. He didn't completely believe her and rightfully so.

"Well, heaven forbid we fail to comply with the whim of our child." He said. It was full of his sarcasm but it was so not sarcastic. Keeping up appearances. Mycroft wiped some dust off lid of the piano with his thumb and inspected it by feeling it between his thumb and middle finger. Anthea's brain sparked to life. She thought of something very special for Margot's first New Years.

"What about that?" She asked. Mycroft's brow furrowed. He looked at the dust in his fingers and back to Anthea. She rolled her eyes and Mycroft looked over at the piano. His brows lifted and he mimed an 'oh'.

"Too loud for the baby, don't you think?" He sounded unsure but not uninterested. Like a curious but cautious wild animal. Anthea's mouth pulled into a lopsided smile.

"Louder than the music in my car?" Anthea asked teasingly. Mycroft already appeared to relent a little. "Louder than hanging out with Uncle James and Auntie Jamie?"

"Perhaps." Mycroft hummed. His eyes scanned every tiny bit of the piano before him. It had been a while since it had been used – as evidenced by the dust.

"Don't you have any songs you want to play her?" Anthea asked quietly, stepping forward. "Any songs that remind you of her?" Mycroft stiffened. His eyes were glued to the lid on the keys.

"I am not my brother, Alice, dear." The genius replied.

"If it was Sherlock I'd be asking if you'd written anything." She said.

A pause.

"Has he written anything?"

"I haven't asked."

Anthea stepped closer again.

"I know it's you." She wasn't asking for love and affection written right from the heart. She wanted to know how he expressed himself through the words and creativity of others because he did that. Sherlock was the more creative one because his heart was more open. Closed off Mycroft was sparked by reading passages in books and hearing someone eses mourning of love in song. But she couldn't say that. "I want to know if there's any songs in your brain that now make you see our little girl."

Mycroft stroked more dust of the lid of the piano. He looked at Anthea. Anthea gave him an encouraging look.

"There might be one." The velvet voice said softly.

A long forgotten piece because Mycroft had to dig the sheet music out of the piano draw, the first piece, the one, started of sombre and became something of light. As most of Mycroft's favourite's do it held a haunting resonance throughout the whole piece but sometimes Anthea thought that was the player and not the music. This was Nocturne by Claude Debussy.

The piece was edited for the ears of the baby. Parts that should be sharp and were marked clearly with fortes about them were not played as such. Emphasis was made other ways, drawn out time tempos and accents to the notes. It was lovely.

A similarly named piece was next but not for just Margot. This one was for Anthea. Mycroft's favourite came out; Chopin. Nocturne in E Major, Option 62 No. 2. This was closer to the expected. Darker yet just as lovely. She liked this one more and not because she was chosen specifically for it to be played to on this night. She liked it because that was them together and separate, a little dark, a little mischievous and somehow sophisticated.

Sherlock might have had more soul in his music and Eurus might have been technically astounding but Anthea was biased and she would always pick Mycroft's music first. He was her perfect fit.

After that it became a matter of pick a song from the old dusty books and Mycroft would do his best to entertain.

Margot was privy to a few songs that night. Well played songs, yes, but also deeply connected to songs. Music played with skills and expression. Margot was privy to one of Anthea's most favourite things in the whole entire world – Mycroft expressing himself through the piano. Music and Mycroft's soul all rolled into one. Margot was a baby, however, and did not have much stamina. A few pretty songs and the baby was dozing in Anthea's arms as she sat on the piano stool next to Mycroft. Margot had to go to bed.

The evening did not end there, nor did the music. For the rest of the last night of the year Anthea sat next to Mycroft and listened to him play songs on the piano. Technically, due to timing, it did not stop until one minute passed midnight.

Once that last song ended Anthea pulled herself as close to Mycroft as she could. From their toes to their heads were touching. She gently turned his head to face her and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. There was no tension, not even for a second. It was a sweet and comforting kiss.

"Happy New Year, Mr. Holmes." Anthea whispered to Mycroft's lips.

"Happy New Year, Miss Clarke." Mycroft echoed back.

Anthea smiled. She kissed him again.

Author's Note: Ah, I hope it was okay. At the very least it was 500 words longer than I thought it would be. I know I at least write about music at a decent level. No guests last chapter, you were all people with accounts I could thank personally! So thanks guys! And I'll see you in week since I'm still ill.

So here's the thing. I know some things that are going to happen in the future but there is also some stuff that I want to leave up to you guys. I could focus on a whole bunch of fluff but if you guys want drama I can also give you drama. Family drama, friends drama, relationship drama, whatever. As a writer I can see the appeal of a lot of it but I also don't want to test the waters too much given everything I have put them through. So I just want to know if you want drama added into the mix and if you have specific types. I'm just feeling out the crowed. And wanting drama won't mean no fluff. There's babies. There's going to be fluff.

Thanks!