It was raining. Pouring actually. Normally this wasn’t a problem, you loved the rain, but today it was entirely unwelcome. It had been pleasantly sunny when you left the flat and you had dressed appropriately in a light sweater and jeans with a pair of flats but now it was raining.
You were soaked and shivering, as you trudged down the street towards the flat where John and Sherlock were waiting for you to come back from work. There hadn’t been any time for you to duck under an awning before you were drenched by the sudden down pour, the sky seemingly dumping a bucket of water on you, and what was little more water when you were already wet. Your teeth had just begun to chatter when the rain suddenly wasn’t hitting you anymore.
“You are going to catch a cold running about in weather like this my dear.” Came a familiar voice and you looked up to find Mycroft softly smiling down at you, holding his umbrella over your head.
Despite your current state, you grinned up at him happily, “Hello Mycroft.”
He couldn’t help but grin back at you before noticing that your smile wavered as your teeth returned to chattering. He quickly pulled off his outer coat and went to place it on your shoulders but you shied away, “That’s very kind of you but I’m soaked. Your nice coat would be ruined.”
He frowned and wrapped it around you any ways, “If it keeps you from freezing it will be worth it. A coat can be replaced my dear but you can not.”
You blushed a soft shade of pink under the damp locks that clung to your cheeks, you and Mycroft had been playing this little game for quite sometime now. You weren’t sure if he was just being kind or if there was something there, not to mention it wasn’t a secret that Mycroft didn’t exactly value certain emotions. How had he put it? “Caring is a disadvantage.” Still… every time the two of you were near, which somehow managed to be often and you weren’t entirely convinced he wasn’t stalking you, he would say these things and in a way that felt like he was flirting with you.
Before your mind could get the better of you, you bounced up and pressed a light kiss on his cheek, “Thank you Mycroft. I really do appreciate it.”
You examined the wet pavement in front of you, missing the large grin on his face, as you pulled the dry coat around your wet form, it was still pleasantly warm from when Mycroft had had it on. You looked at the street ahead of you a little forlornly, unwilling to leave your circular shaped haven, but you had to get home.
If you didn’t get there in a reasonable amount of time John and Sherlock would begin to worry and come looking for you. It would do you no good to let them go out in this rain, there was already a high chance of you getting sick after this and the last thing you needed was for either or both of them to get sick too.
You gave Mycroft a brave smile, “It was nice to see you but I’m afraid I have to get home.”
You started to shrug off of his coat in order to return it to him but a hand stopped you and you looked up to see he was frowning at you, “I can’t allow you to continue on as before, please let me walk with you. That way you can stay warm and I will keep us dry.”
You blinked a couple of times as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered up frantically and then simply nodded, “Alright.”
You pulled the coat on properly and he offered you his arm. You took it, letting the long sleeve cover your hand so you wouldn’t get him wet as it settled lightly in the crook of his elbow. You chatted as you walked the last few blocks. He asked you about your day at work and you told him at length and then you asked him about his current work and he told you what he could with a mischievous smile playing at his lips.
You got to the front steps of 221B Baker Street and came to a halt, turning to look up at Mycroft, “Well this is me. Thank you very much Mycroft. I believe you may have single handedly prevented me from freezing to death and greatly lowered my chances of waking up sick tomorrow.”
He gave you a soft smile, “You flatter me and for your sake I do hope you are right. John will not be pleased if I arrived too late to save you from falling ill”
You giggled and rolled your eyes, “He’s like a worrisome mother hen. It’s hardly your fault that it decided to pour on me when I was least prepared.”
You stood on your toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek again in thanks but he anticipated it, turning his head so your lips met his instead, his hand making its way to your cheek. You were surprised but only for a moment, quickly returning his ambush kiss as he removed his hand from your cheek in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist, the other still occupied with holding the umbrella over your heads.
The kiss was exactly like Mycroft, sweet yet strong and powerful with a dash of mystery. He nipped at your lip slightly causing you to gasp so he could slip his tongue in to tango with yours. He was quick in claiming dominance, exploring his new kingdom of smooth pink flesh happily as one of your hands grasped the back of his neck to pull him closer.
You both parted for air with a little hum followed by a couple of ragged gasps. He rested his forehead on yours, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long. I have to say it was better than I imagined.”
You giggled, “You could have done it sooner you know.”
He gave you that small Holmes smirk, “Well then, we will just have to make up for lost time won’t we?”
You gave a slight nod and he closed the gap between you to give you a short but sweet kiss, “You should get upstairs before my brother comes to look for you.”
You nodded pulling away from him, “Let me just give you your jacket and-“
“Keep it.” He said, holding up a hand, and you looked up at him with wide eyes, “But-“
“I have others and frankly that one looks particularly good on you. Think of it as my way of telling the world that you are mine and I am yours.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Do you mean that?”
He gave you that look that said come-on-now-don’t-be-silly, “Of course. I would have thought that obvious from my actions before.”
You grinned before sarcastically retorting, “Well you know us little people need some clarification sometimes.”
He chuckled, brushing a wet strand of hair from your forehead so he could press a gentle kiss to it, “Well my dear. I don’t think I can make it any more clear than I already have.”
You giggled, “True.”
You tilted your head up so he could kiss your lips again, sighing, “I have to go but something tells me I’ll see you later.”
He nodded and you offered each other a smile before you turned to bound up the steps to the flat. You only got about three feet away before you hit a particularly slick patch of ground, your ankle rolling painfully as you began to tumble to the ground.
Mycroft was quick to catch you, pulling you back to him tightly. Once you’d recovered your balance, you leaned into him, unable to quell the soft whimper that left your lips as you tried to put weight on your foot.
“You’re hurt.” He stated worriedly, lifting you into his arms with a careful sweep after he closed the umbrella and hooked it on his forearm.
You looked up at him with a little frown, “And you’re getting all wet from both me and the rain.”
He didn’t respond, instead carrying you up the steps to the door, which you quickly unlocked. He waltzed through the now open door, gently kicking it closed behind him.
You rested your head on his shoulder for a moment, “I think I can make it up the stairs myself if you’ll let me down.”
He shook his head, already climbing the stairs up to the flat, “Nonsense. You’ll only make your ankle worse.”
You sighed, you’d often heard him use that tone with Sherlock, it meant there was no arguing with him and that if you did he would get his way in the end anyway. He stopped at the door and you laid a soft knock on it, reasoning that Sherlock was already going to be angry that his brother was here and it was probably better if the two of you didn’t come bursting in.
There was no answer. You let out a frustrated sigh and Mycroft kissed your temple softly before you knocked again and called, “John Watson you open the door this second. I don’t care what kind of hissy fit his highness is throwing.”
There was a shuffle of hurried movements and the door swung open to reveal a wide-eyed John, “Sorry (F/n). He said it was Mycroft…”
He trailed off at the end as he took in your current position and you rolled your eyes, “Well he wasn’t exactly wrong.”
Mycroft pushed past him as John quickly asked, “What the hell happened?”
“I slipped on the steps,” you called over his shoulder to John before shaking your head at Mycroft as he went to set you on the couch, “I need to change before the entire flat ends up wet. Just set me down on my feet.”
He hesitated but saw your point and did as you asked. You hissed slightly as your foot came in contact with the ground and you felt Mycroft lift you off the floor slightly with the arm still wrapped around your waist, obviously on the verge of picking you up again.
You tried to give him a reassuring smile but he wasn’t buying it, returning you a little worried frown to which you sighed, “Perhaps it would be best if you put me down in the bathroom.”
He lifted you to his chest again and you twisted to look at John, “Would you mind grabbing something dry for me to change into?”
He shook his head, still a little puzzled by this whole situation, and went to get you some clothes from your room. Sherlock watched the whole thing from his chair with narrowed eyes. He was unhappy that John had let Mycroft in but concerned over your well being and over Mycroft's sudden presence in your life.
When Mycroft and John returned, John posed the question that was on both of their minds, “What exactly happened and how did you get caught up in it Mycroft?”
He sank down into the couch before responding, “She got caught in the storm on her way home from work. I spotted her a couple of blocks away and offered to walk her home under my umbrella, a gesture she gladly accepted. We arrived here and said our good byes and then she slipped going up the steps out front. I managed to catch her but I'm afraid her ankle twisted in a manner that looked rather painful.”
John nodded at his explanation, the whole thing seeming to make sense to him, but Sherlock frowned, “And you just happened to be in the area to offer her your umbrella?”
Mycroft glared at Sherlock, “I don’t like what you’re implying.”
“I don’t like that I’m right to imply it.” Sherlock snapped back.
“Leave him be Sherlock. I knew he’d been spying on me.”
All their eyes snapped to where you were leaning heavily against the door frame, dressed in a dry set of clothes, attempting to run a towel through your hair without falling. Both Mycroft and John bounced up to come to your aid but John was closer, he pulled your arm over his shoulder and helped you to the couch.
Once you were settled in next to him, Mycroft looked at you with a little frown, “You knew?”
You nodded, letting out a soft whimper as John sat on the coffee table and pulled your foot into his lap, “Of course I knew. You were always popping up at random times claiming you just happened to be in the area. You can only use that once or twice before it becomes tired.”
“Why didn’t you tell me (F/n)?” Sherlock asked, watching you carefully.
You gave a small shrug and laughed, “I liked seeing him and it wasn’t like he was threatening me or anything.”
Mycroft gave a triumphant smile at your answer as you leaned back into the couch and closed your eyes. John was probing your ankle gently, trying to find the exact source of your pain through the bruises and swelling that were already developing. When he hit it, you cringed and pulled from him slightly, causing Mycroft to reach over and intertwine his hand with yours, giving it a little squeeze for comfort. Your eyelids fluttered open and you found him looking at you with concern clouding the intelligent depths of his eyes.
You leaned your head on his shoulder, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze back, “It’s alright love. I’ll be fine. More likely than not it’s just a sprained ankle.”
John nodded in agreement to the end of your statement before doing a little double take at what you’d said before that. Neither you nor Mycroft noticed as your eyes had slid closed again when your head hit his shoulder and he had nuzzled his nose into your damp hair fondly.
John gawked and Sherlock slammed the book he’d been reading before you came in down on the side table next to him, “You are not allowed to date her.”
You both looked at him with furrowed brows and you stated matter-of-factly, “I’ll date who I please Sherlock.”
Mycroft nodded, "Agreed. I have every right to date (F/n). Your dislike of it does not change that."
John interjected before Sherlock could give you his rebuttal, “How long has this been going on?”
You and Mycroft didn’t skip a beat, simultaneously answering, “A while.”
You exchanged knowing glances. While it hadn't been quite clear before it was obvious now that your relationship up to this point had been pretty much dating without the physical perks.
Sherlock sighed, watching the two of you interact. He may not like it but he wasn’t stupid, you obviously had feelings for his brother and Mycroft seemed to return them. He wasn’t going to be able to stop this from happening and it wasn't really worth it to try. Mycroft wouldn't hurt you, he knew that, and you seemed happy. He would lecture you later about safety and his brother's faults but right now he'd leave you be.
You leaned into Mycroft’s side happily when he wound an arm around your shoulder and John went to retrieve some ice and an ace bandage. You enjoyed the silence as he wrapped your ankle securely and then placed a pillow underneath it on the table and the ice on top. When he was done Mycroft kissed the top of your head and you pulled away to look at him, “You have to go don’t you?”
He nodded, “I’m afraid I do, duty calls, but I’ll be back to see you soon.”
You gave him a small smile and he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips, John still gawking at the two of you. When you pulled away he murmured, “Good bye my dear.”
“Bye love.” You breathed airily, making him want to stay all the more.
He stood to leave and you tried to follow him but he pressed you down into the couch, leveling you with a commanding and unamused look, “You are to stay off that foot. Understood?”
You pouted and he cocked an eyebrow at you, daring you to defy him, “(F/n)?”
“Fine.” You sighed exasperatedly.
He turned to glare at your two flatmates, “Make sure you two keep out of trouble until she’s healed.”
Sherlock looked bored but John nodded, knowing full well there would be consequences if they didn’t. Satisfied with both answers, Mycroft left, giving you one last little smile before walking out the door.
Both John and Sherlock set into you as soon as he was gone but you tuned them out, pressing your fingers to your lips to keep the pressure that had come from Mycroft's just moments before.
You were so very glad you’d gotten caught in the rain today, even if you did end up sick tomorrow. You glanced up at your friends, they were now arguing about how to properly scold you, and grinned softly. This was going to be an interesting development indeed.