#parent!mycroft

You hummed contently as Mycroft pulled you closer so that your back was resting flush against his chest. You could tell he had a rough day at work, the way he buried his nose into your hair giving that away. Letting your hand reach down to Mycroft’s, which was resting on your stomach, you stroked it softly, smiling a bit.

“Mhmm, what time is it dear?” Mycroft asked softly, kissing the back of your head as he did so.

You glanced up and towards the bedside table that had your phone upon it. You reached out for it and turned it over so you could look at the time.

“It’s 9:43, My,” you told him as you placed the phone back down and leaned your head back onto his shoulder.

He sighed gently, nodding his head a bit before his lips pressed against your temple for a moment. “A thunderstorm is rolling in in a few,” he whispered softly.

“Do you think S/N and D/N will come in when they here the thunder?” you asked, closing your eyes, but not falling asleep and simply enjoying the warmth and comfort your husband gave you.

Mycroft made a small hum as if to tell you, ‘most likely,’ before he felt you turn around in his arms. Opening an eye to look at you, he smiled softly, closing it again as he felt your hand move to his hair. Feeling your fingers run through the auburn hair on the back of his head, he made a soft appreciative noise.

Unexpectedly, he swooped down to your lips and placed a gentle, but a passionate kiss to them. You let out a shriek against his lips as the sound of the thunder boomed outside.

Mycroft let out a low laugh and opened his eyes to look down at you, who had instinctively curled up to his chest.

“Looks like I’ll be having to take care of three children,” Mycroft teased before he heard your son’s feet pattering across the hardwood floor and the smaller patters of your younger daughter.

You playfully hit Mycroft’s chest in retort to his teasing, then, in hearing the sound of the door open, turned your head to see S/N and D/N standing by it.

Your son rubbed his eyes, trying his best to get the sleep out of them before speaking. “We got scared when we heard the thunder,” S/N muttered as he looked over to his sister quickly before looking back to you both on the bed.

Your daughter quickly ran into the room as you and your husband sat up, D/N instantly going to jump in Mycroft’s arms. S/N did the same, but instead of running to Mycroft he ran to you instead. Carefully, you helped him into the bed and sat him beside you, letting him snuggle into your side.

Mycroft held D/N in his arms and glanced over to you before chuckling. “Looks like we’re all going to be sleeping here tonight,” he stated just as another boom of thunder struck down. Your children let out a small yelp before burying their heads into either the pillow or their father’s chest.

Mycroft looked over at you and grinned before mouthing, ‘just like their mother,’ and winking. You knew he was referring to your shriek from earlier which caused a thin line to form on your lips- and if Mycroft didn’t have D/N slowly falling asleep on him, he’d have chuckled. Instead, he simply stifled one and raised a brow before getting comfortable in the bed.

Minutes passed and both of your children were sound asleep, the thunder was no longer an issue now that they had their parents beside them.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade Characters: Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade, Original Holmes-Lestrade Child(ren) Additional Tags: Parent!lock, Parent Mycroft, Preteen child, Puberty, it sucks so bad, and poor mycroft is so out of his depth Summary:

Mycroft can tell many things based on his keen sense (of all things mental and otherwise) but most of all his hearing.

The precise moment on when a souffle is ready to be removed from the oven, the inflection of his wife’s voice indicating the threat level of whatever is scurrying in the darken corner of the garage and even Sherlock’s mood prior to opening the doorway into Sherlock’s sitting room at Baker street.

Needless to say that besides his amazing capabilities as genius he could deduce most things that the average person couldn’t with great ease which is why when he heard the solemn footfalls of his daughter Elise Mycroft took pause from his work in the kitchen.

“Elise,” he called out cautiously as he listened for the exchange of steps for wheels to come closer.

Like always the familiar set of wheels sound off against the polished wood floorboards giving away her exact location.

By the stairway awaiting the lift Mycroft thinks as he sets down his knife on the cutting board to see what could be ailing his young daughter.

Unfortunately the lift is far faster than him and causes Mycroft to briskly jog up the stairs to catch Elise before secluding herself in the confines of her room.

At the top of the stairs Mycroft reminds himself that he should really stick to his workout routine so he won’t be this winded from his own staircase when the lift finally reaches the top to reveal his wheelchair bound daughter.

There is no mistaking it; something or more likely someone has upset Elise.

“Did something happen at school today?”

The second it leaves Mycroft’s mouth he regrets it because of course something happened. Elise was hardly one to get upset over trivial things like most children given her condition.

No, something had happened and most likely it was concerning his daughter’s disability that made it so.

Elise for her part won’t look at him. Red from the neck up and shaking as she tries to wheel past him only managing to get by an inch before her father grabs the back of the chair.

“Elise sweetheart, please, talk to me,” Mycroft beseeches, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m what’s wrong,” Elise grounds out bitterly.

“Come again?”

“Me. I’m the one that’s messed up! This-this stupid disability and this dumb wheelchair and their stupid nosy asshats...its just so-” Elise finishes with a watery frustrated growl.

Now Mycroft can forgive the callous language as Elise is in a state of emotional distress but in the back of his mind he puts up a mental reminder to come up with better, more eloquent ways to insult people.

Pulling his daughter in a tight hug Mycroft does his best to comfort her.“Elise there is nothing wrong with you, you are not “messed up” as you put it.”

“I can’t even walk around for thirty minutes without needing a wheelchair dad how the hell is that not messed up?”

“Different people have different needs. Just as the blind need service dogs and amputees need motorized scooters,” Mycroft tried to assert, “You just happen to need a wheelchair due to juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. It’s not that unusual.” 

The tear stain cheeks of Elise said otherwise but Mycroft pressed on. “Besides I was certain that I held a conference with the staff at your school to make the student population of your condition. Was there somehow a disconnect in command?”

“No,” Elise stated glumly as she buried her head into her father’s shoulder. It was certainly uncomfortable for Elise given the wheelchair but like a loving father Mycroft was willing to contort his body to accommodate for his daughter’s sake. 

“Then what happened?”

“Shakayla happened,” Elise grumbled. “Even after the teacher explained my disability she kept harassing me! She said that I was faking it and that I didn’t really need to use a wheelchair just because I was able to walk to class just fine this morning,” Elise pauses to blow her nose on her father’s shirt (to which Mycroft cringes but lets it slide) to continue her tale.

“She then convinced half the class during the lunch period to steal my wheelchair after math class and then call me a “privileged white bitch” because I had to use the elevator to get to my history class on the second floor. Shakayla just wouldn’t stop even when the teachers were telling her to lay off and only sent her to the principal’s office when she pulled my wheelchair out from under me,” Elise finishes with a sniffle.

Now Mycroft is starting to get red but not in the same form as his distraught daughter. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Elise pushes her father away with the most panicked look on her face. “The principal told me not to but not because of you daddy, I promise!”

“Then why didn’t you call me? You know I would have had this fixed the second I set foot on campus considering how much money I pump into the institution.”

“It’s just that,” Elise pauses, “It’s just as principal B explains it is that he can’t outright get rid of Shakayla because she’s not zoned for another school. Her parents hardly even answer the phone anymore when the school says that she’s suspended and they just don’t know what to do anymore. This is the last year Shakayla can even repeat the sixth grade so they just wanted me to rough it out until the state can eventually pass her.”

Mycroft closes his eyes and tries not to look too pained by the mental gymnastics played by the school’s principal.

“Elise,” Mycroft starts slowly, “Under no circumstances are you obligated to be anyone’s punching bag just because the school refuses to protect its students and uphold the student code of conduct regardless of the bully’s  race, religion, sex or circumstance-”

He can see that Elise wants to interject but Mycroft puts a finger to his daughter’s trembling lip and continues.

“That being said if the school cannot find a place to accommodate Shakayla’s animosity toward students with invisible disabilities I can certainly find her an institution far, far away from you that can take her free of charge for her neglectful parents.”

He presses a kiss to Elise’s head. “I would never allow my baby girl to suffer from this abuse simply because an ignorant bully has exhausted the school’s hierarchy due to a lack of parental involvement. Elise you are our greatest achievement and most prized possession,” Mycroft states softly as he strokes her head.    

Her sniffles start anew as Elise asks timidly, “Disability and all?”

“Elise I promise there is nothing “messed up” about you; to us you are perfection in the making.”

And like a damn had been busted the tears fell once more as Mycroft comforted Elise from her tiring first day in middle school. He recalled from his own experiences that middle school had been rough but forgot just how cruel children could be.

As the crying softened and Elise’s breathing becoming more stable Mycroft was careful to ask, “Was there not a positive part of your first day?”

Elise stiffens a bit in her father’s arms which makes Mycroft even more cautious and curious.

“Well there was this boy...”

“No dating until you’re twenty or until I can properly vet not only him but his entire network of family and acquaintances,” Mycroft immediately states causing Elise to nervously giggle.

“I didn’t even I say I was interested!”

Seeing a ghost of a smile on his daughters face was worth it even if he did mean it in earnest. “Just a reminder dearest,” he says lovingly and then (finally) stands up from his painful crouched position by the wheelchair, “Now shall we have an ice cream movie marathon to commemorate this first day?”

“I want to watch Labyrinth first!”

“Then watch it will shall.”

The answer to your question is here but I still don’t understand the fascination with what if [insert spouse/child here] has this [disorder/illness/disability] when they are most likely very uncommon to have to begin with or in most cases very rare to get in the first place without it being part of family genetics.

Like your question about ‘high functioning’ autism; 1/68 kids in the United States of America (as Britain has too many problems currently trying to track who is entering its borders to use their population accurately)  have been diagnosed with autism and currently with its population (not counting illegals) sits at 74.2 million children.

That means that out of the 74.2 million there are only 1,091,176 kids roughly that are afflicted by autism in the United States making it very unlikely that any child of Mycroft would come into contact with someone living through it let alone dating them.

With numbers like that and hypothesizing that each of those 1,091,176 kids are spread out evenly around the country-even less so especially when most of the best funded centers tend to be more near the border between Canada and America, upper northwest, northeast and a few specks places across the rust belt.

Although the ASD is estimates that it affects more than 2 million individuals in the U.S. and tens of millions worldwide it does not however, specify whether or not its simply those diagnosed or includes the family members of the afflicted.

So its kinda of a 

Mycroft isn’t about tearing his kids away from people that they love so on the off chance they do find love in someone who is autistic he’s going to help.

Onboard the U.S.S Heartsteel the medical bay was in an unholy trinity of distress, fear and panic as Ambassador Holmes and his wife were preparing to give birth.

No one outside their race has truly witnessed how they bring life into the world much less how they were conceived turning every decorated doctor on board into a second guessing ensign from the Academy.

It wasn’t that unusual considering that the Federation had only just begun communication with their planet a year ago but still it was a nerve wracking experience for the crew aboard the floating starship.

“Do we even know if their kind needs to be placed in water after they come out,” questioned Dr Kal, one of the finest doctors to serve in the fleet, “ I need to know these things or else we might damage the babies!”

“Wait-I thought Lt. Miguta translated that there was only one baby,” piped up one of the nurses.

Kal waved her claw around dismissively, “The day I trust Lt. Miguta’s translations on a new species is the day I get my horns clipped and paint them yellow.”

“Now Kal you know that Miguta is doing his best despite the circumstances and I don’t appreciate you talking ill about my crew,” D’Morge chided at the old doctor, “We all know that he’s had his share of blunders same as everyone else on this ship but so far he’s the only one of us that seems to have a hang on what Ambassador Holmes and his wife are even suggesting.”

“Captain he almost got us imprisoned on M’Bega 9 because he accidentally insulted the high priestess and then had us nearly kill ourselves by miss-translating those barrels from the Quan as something safe for consumption. That kid is the worst linguist the Fleet has every had,” Kal ranted. Her claws on full display as was her coloring at her ridges sending any nearby nurses to back away lest they burn under her radiating body heat.

Truly Kal had a beef with the young lieutenant but Captain D’Morge could not stand for any bad blood between his crew members. Putting two green suction cups between his brow he sighed.

“Again, Kal I understand why you’re pissed at him but now is not the time to start fighting when he’s literally the only one that has been able to help so far and we need this birth to go smoothly. Their planet is the only one in galaxy that produces those little insects that could save the Federation from shedding more blood and the fact that their kind can adapt like no other we’ve encountered before.”

Careful not to put his section cups on any of the dark patches of Kal’s skin D’Morge says intensely, “I cannot stress this enough doctor but we need them more than they need us. If we screw this up we are most likely not only going to lose our jobs but the fate of every species known to our galaxy so for the love of your  people and mine please do not harp on Miguta and throw him off. Understand?”

Dr. Kal is still purple in some places but nods all the same. She may be an Watari full of righteous rage but even she knew that if the captain was telling her to cool it for the fate of the Federation than she needed to suck it up. “Understood Captain.”

D’Morge gave her an small smile. “Good, now what’s the status of the Ambassador’s wife?”

“Nothing like anything we’ve come across and its driving my machines crazy,” Kal complains.

“Crazy how?”

Rather than waste her voice Dr. Kal beckons the captain to follow her to the birthing part of the medical bay where Ambassador Holmes was seated next to his bedridden wife and Lt. Miguta standing somewhat awkwardly on her left talking to them. 

Despite the sweat on her brow and the redness creeping on her skin the Ambassador’s wife seemed in good spirits as did her husband. Holmes was stroking her hands lovingly and murmuring low in their strange language.

It sounded so alien to their ears but nevertheless very soothing.  

“Are they supposed to get red like that?”

“Miguta says that its perfectly normal under stress but like I said earlier I’m relying on that idiot’s word entirely,” Kal grumbles.

“Kal…”

“Dr. Kal,” called a nurse Solin frantically, “ Dr. Kal, you have to see this!”

Without much delay both the captain and the good doctor ran over to the worried nurse hovering over the body scanners.

“What is it nurse?”

“These readings are off the charts,” Solin exclaimed showing them the readings. “All of them. Pain receptors, hormone levels, brain activity, blood work-by our standards the Ambassador’s  wife should be dead.”

Kal could only hum as she surveyed the readings as Solin continued to gush about the strange data but even D’Morge knew what she was thinking. Their kind are truly something to be feared and revered.

“How can she even stand to be smiling,” Solin yammered on, “how can she even take that much pain and why is her mate so calm about it? Does he even know?”

Now for Solin’s kind the males generally harbor the offspring until they are ready to materialize via transporter from the womb as did most species once inducted into the Federation or through pod incubation.

It was the safer way to ensure growth to endangered populations and encourage to those who were fertile or unable to procreate normally to do so at a higher frequency. 

To have natural births was pretty much an outdated system that none of them could stand to do anymore without horrific consequences. Live birth was simply to archaic and dangerous that most  generations didn’t understand the process anymore much less learn it.

Captain D’Morge had tired to see if Lt. Miguta could convince them to do the same for the Ambassador’s wife but it seemed that they were content to do this their way.

 “Nurse Solin please center yourself,” Captain D’Morge urged the young nurse, “we can only afford so many people to be panicked at this moment and I would like you not to be one of them.”

Solin did not look too terribly quelled but her antenna did not seem as ridged as it was before. “I still think that they’re crazy.”

“Given on how they reacted to us tossing those gold boxes into the compactor I think that they think we’re crazy too,” D’Morge offered as Kal handed tugged on one of his limbs.

“Captain you need to see this,” she urged.

Looking down at the body scanner cautiously D’Morge could not hide his astonishment. 

“What is that?”

“I believe captain that it is their baby-moving downward.I’m not entirely sure what it means but I’m sure that it means we’re about to find out how their kind is born.”

The medical bay turns into a hush in acknowledgement of what is to come and it sends collective chills down their spines.

 “By Timor I hope we’re ready.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Kal concedes, “it’s either we wing it and fail or succeed.”

“Um, Captain?”

Captain D’Morge turns on his heel faster than he thought at the sound of that voice. “Lt. Miguta, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with the Ambassador and his wife to let us know when she’s ready to give birth!”

Miguta looks nervous as he shifts from foot to foot. “Well that’s just it sir, they’re fixing to give birth right now.”

“NOW?”

“Outta my way,” Dr. Kal command, “doctor coming through!” 

Both the captian and Miguta race after her to the receiving bay while the rest of the medical bay crew start to work furiously at their scanners.

Upon opening the door they are greeted with a sight of Ambassador Holmes holding his wife’s hand in what looks to be great pain as his wife’s color fluctuates from white, red and blue.

“What’s happening,” Kal demands at Miguta as she tries in vain to figure out anyway she can help.

Miguta talks hurriedly at Holmes and he responds tersely back not at all like the nice sounds that he had portrayed earlier. His wife was grunted and growled unlike anything the captain or doctor had heard before and it frightened them terribly.

Her hand white as it gripped her husband’s hand and strained against the bed in a way that seemed uncomfortable.

“Um, Ambassador Holmes says that she needs something called an epidural. Something like a pain blocker so she doesn’t break his hand and not break,” Miguta explains, “its really hard to understand him captain because his wife is distracting him with his hand.”

“If she needs a hand I shall definitely give her mine,” D’Morge quickly offers three of his strongest suction cups. His kind may have odd appendages but they were stronger muscles than even the most trained Kinshia.

Ambassador Holmes gives a skeptical look at the suction cups but in a move that could almost be described as ‘its your funeral’ he conceded to migrate the suction cups to his wife’s hand in order to free his own. 

“SON OF A MONGREL LARK’S G-”

“CAPTAIN,” Kal injected quickly, “COMPOSE YOURSELF!”

“Easy for you to say,” D’Morge grounded out darkly. It felt like the ambassador’s wife was purposely trying to tear his suction cups apart on a cellular level that was unheard of by brute strength alone. “And get that information quick Miguta or I’ll have you stranded on the next starbase when this is over.”

“Yes sir!”

Lt. Miguta talks some more to both the Ambassador and his wife in fats tones.

“He says that any pain blocker that has cortisone with lidocaine, orbupivacaine, and saline would be good right now and to hurry because depending on how tired she gets this could last a full rotation!”

“Are they mad? Those chemicals are killers. I’m not injecting her with that” Kal declares only to be growled at by the Captain.

“The hell you will because I’m not allowing the Ambassdor’s wife to crush my suction cups into oblivion! Miguta get the recipe from the Ambassador and get it whipped up and ready to inject now!”

Miguta works furiously to translate under pressure and deliver the message to the other officers in the medical bay as Kal tries in vain to make them comfortable.

She watches as Ambassador Holmes despite the obvious pain in his hand looks loving at his wife and makes what sounds like encouraging noises to her. His wife on the other hand seems torn between looking mad at her mate and happy.

An odd thing to witness given the current times but endearing none the less. 

The ambassador makes a noise at Kal to which she can’t understand until he gestures to the cooling solution gel at the opposite bedside. “You want this,” she points curiously.

The ambassador nods and holds up his hand for the item to which Kal is not going to bother questioning things anymore and just forks it over.

Gently Holmes spreads the cooling agent at his wife’s inner thighs and lower back in a way that is almost reverent if not frantic as Lt. Miguta comes back with the pain blocker solution.

“We have to inject this into her lower back in order to help her,” Miguta says handing the hypo injector to Dr. Kal.

“Just in her lower back?”

“Holmes said he would guide you.”

“CAN YOU JUST INJECT THE DAMN THING I CAN’T FEEL MY SUCTION CUPS.”

Indeed the Captain’s green suction cups were turning a very worrisome pale green so Kal quickly set forth to inject the solution.

Holmes had been very careful in trying to move his wife forward that even Miguta had to step in and help but the application was tricky.

“He wants me to stick the hypo there,” Kal kept trying to confirm as Miguta translated.

“Yes there.”

“But there’s too much bone there for me to get to the nerve endings.”

“Look, Holmes says to do it there so we have to! You need to trust me!”

“Boy it will be a hot day on Anmari before I trust you-”

“JUST DO AS HE SAYS!” screamed the Captain that even had the Ambassador’s wife flinching.

There’s a hiss from the hypo and a groan from the wife before she releases his suction cups and slumps on the bed.

“Lomar above please tell me we didn’t kill her,” Kal pleads until she opens her eyes and gives a worn smile.

Even ambassador Holmes looks more at ease as the chemicals kick in and besides the captain whimpering over his suction cups the room’s atmosphere is more tranquil. 

Again the Ambassador whispers to his wife and she in turn looks lovingly at him until there’s a grunt, a movement and shrug and then grunt again.

“What’s happening?” Kal demands frantic and unsure of what to do.

“He says she’s pushing the baby out and that we need a blanket and scissors to cut the cord when it comes out,” Miguta explains as he fetches a towel and hand held mini laser.

Both work quickly and diligently together as the captain is still shivering on the floor.

“He says we need a warm light for the baby to be under.”

“Nurses get on it.”

“He says we also have to give the baby some injections to help booster its immune system.”

“Nurses see if you can access their planet’s data base on what that is stat.”

“ Computer time?”

Approximately 13:04:26 ship rotation it sounds off as a foreign noise starts to materialize in the room that is coming from neither the captain or ambassador’s wife.  

“What is that?” Kal says as the Ambassador helps expel the baby from between his wife’s legs.

“That,” Miguta says cheerfully, “is their baby.”

Kal can’t say that its a pretty thing but then again she can admit that she has a bias for her own kind. Noticing that now both are crying Kal looks to Miguta and asks, “Is it okay?”

There is some talking to which Miguta confirms, “Yes the baby is okay. They are both just overwhelmed by the magick of it all.”

“What in Yarmil is ‘magick?” 

Miguta shakes his head. “I do not know but if I were to guess it would be the experience of it all like when my younger sister was brought home in her pod.”

The two of them watch as Holmes kisses both wife and child fervently. How he holds them both so gently and murmurs in that strange tone again.

“What is he saying?”

“I love you. I’m so proud of you. You are so strong. I’m the happiest man in the universe and our aughter is beautiful like you.”

“What is a ‘aughter’?”

“Again I do not know but we’ll wait to ask that until we get better communicators at Federation central. I know I’m not the best linguist and I sure don’t want to screw up again by offending them.”

Kal puts a friendly claw on the young lieutenant’s shoulder. “Now I wouldn’t say you’re the worst either. Look what you did today! You helped me monitor and deliver the first live birth in centuries. Not a lot of people can say they did that.”

Miguta doesn’t look convinced but Kal retracts her claws something very rare for for her species to do. “Listen, I know I’m hard on you and I shouldn’t be since I only know the common tongues and nothing else but you are not worthless and after today you’ll go on to be the galaxies greatest. I just need to remember that you are doing your best and as long as you’re working toward getting better I need to lay off. In fact, feel free to tell me off when I’m coming at your back.”

“Oh but I couldn’t-”

“Hey, doctor’s orders,” Kal insists, “You have to follow them.”

Miguta looks embarrassed and pleased until he hears some faint murmurs from Holmes again. 

“What’s he saying?”

“Ambassador Holmes and his wife want to know if the Captain is alright.”

Looking down the Captain did indeed look like he was still in immense pain on the floor clutching his three suction cups. 

“By Timor Captain compose yourself,” Kal groaned trying to aid the man up and out of the room, “it couldn’t have been that bad.” It’s a slow process as Miguta stays to keep the Holmes company but she manages all the same.

Not even past the door frame Dr. Kal is bombarded by nurses alike.

“Doctor you have to see these readings!”

“Doctor the pain levels were something never heard of before!”

“Doctor the amount of strength in her one arm was that akin Quagmire in battle lust!”

Kal looks down at D’Morge and concedes, “Okay maybe it was that bad.”

“My Kori how can their kind even stand to do that let alone have more than one offspring?” 

Dr. Kal gives them a disbelieving look. “I don’t know but given what I witnessed in there we definetly do not want to make an enemy of them. Keep them happy and send me all data on the happening after that you may all step off rotation. Lt. Mo’Roack will have the com until D’Morge feels better. Understood?”

“Honey don’t you think you should do this I can watch the kids by myself,” you call cautiously after Mycroft as he finishes checking the pram to ensure its loaded with every item imaginable for the journey ahead.

He is the epitome of a man making a statement.

Dressed in his best suit along with the twins donning their very best clothes (or at least the ones that they will deign to wear with minimal fuss) your husband was fully prepared to take Cassandra and Alexander to the office for a full shift.

Cassie thank God is alseep as being the oldest she is more prone to cause a fuss as opposed to Alex who is more than content to watch his surroundings with interest in his seat.

Pram padded with diapers, snacks, change of clothes, wipes, toys, a mini telly with videos, a radio, blankets, a baby crate-it was more than enough to set up a miniature daycare.

“My dear I refuse to allow you to surrender your ‘me’ day just because my work refuses to let me enjoy our maternity leave and decidedly cannot function without me,” Mycroft responds while checking the diaper bag once more.

“Besides, it would be prudent to remind them that I am a family man now and would like to spend some of the rest of this precious leave with you and not be bothered again like last week,” Mycroft quips closing the bag and attaching it to the stroller.

You could feel a migraine coming from what had happened last week.

It was no surprise to you given Mycroft’s self-made job that he was an important piece for the government to use on a daily basis.

 Having the government coming to him once or twice for consultations when the twins were sleeping was understandable.

The official had called and apologized profusely from start to end so it was okay.

 Having the government coming to him almost every month when the twins were experiencing something life changing like crawling was annoying but not the end of the world.

The kept using the words ‘urgent’ and ‘immediate attention needed’ in their emails which of course would garner Mycroft’s attention. A few apologizes were present but it still pissed you off that Mycroft had missed the twins learning to crawl.

Having the government banging at your door with questions for Mycroft every other week was concerning especially when you both had just got the twins to stop crying like banshee because apparently they’re terrified of bees for some reason made you both murderous.

How they managed to track the four of you down in the countryside on picnic was beyond you but then again Mycroft was able to do the same on any given day. Apologizes had been minimal much like your shared patience for all of this.

Having them barge in uninvited into your home to demand clarification while you both were bathing the twins because apparently the matter was ‘level 8′ was enough to get the ignorant sod transferred to another country with ‘Aunt’ Lizzy’s blessing of course.

The point being you both were very tired of having government officials begging for leadership while taking off for the year. Athena was doing her best to man the fort but it would seem that even for someone as organized and enlightened as her she still had a bit of trouble holding the reigns.

You had to admit a point must be made but at the expense of his poor employees? 

The twins weren’t monsters, no far from it and yet..given enough leg room together they could cause some right terror.

Cassie was a natural leader and adventurer getting into everything with very little caution to whatever she could get her chubby little hands on while her younger brother Alex was prone to being a homebody on anyone’s willing lap.

Together in a new place there’s no doubt that wherever Cassie goes her brother will follow and whomever Alex finds solace in his sister will attach herself to them as well until Alex fell asleep and became bored.

Being their mother made you (somewhat) immune to the twin’s shenanigans but for outsiders it could be very stressful. 

How Cassie could seemingly get out of baby gates despite them being more than half her size was concerning. How Alex would hide away in dark small spaces to nap was also a trigger a panic attack.

in fact the more you thought about it made you have second thoughts about the whole thing your scheduled ‘me’ day be damned.  “Myc, why don’t you let me just watch the kids while you take care of that thing at the office,” you try to persuade your husband as he starts to push the pram toward the door. “I don’t even need a ‘me’ day this week, besides you hardly had one last week. You’ll hardly be long anyway.”

Mycroft pauses at the doorway and smiles.

“______, I promise you the children will be fine and you do need this day off,” Mycroft reaffirms, “After all you trust me correct?”

Flustered and taken you indignantly reply, “Of course! I would never doubt you.”

“Then I promise that this is necessary if we want to spend the rest of our time together with our babies before the leave is up,” Mycroft swears solemnly.  Its not a look he makes often. If anything it takes you back to darker days when Sherlock faked his death but it solidified your resolve.

“I…I understand and I trust you.”

“As I do you,” Mycroft supplies before blowing a kiss and heading out the door with Alex waving ‘bye-bye’ at himself rather than you.

Almost two hours went by and you still  had no word from Mycroft or his office. There were so many close calls in which you attempted to ring his office only to stop yourself short.

Believe in Mycroft. He knows what he’s doing. The kids are safe. The kids will be alright. The office won’t be burnt down in flames and the staff killed by the hands of your growing babies you would constantly tell yourself as you tried in vain to relax.

Every so called relaxing activity became a painful reminder that the kids and Mycroft weren’t home and that anything could happen to them outside the home’s walls.

They’ll be fine. Cassie will be fine. Alex will be fine. Mycroft knows what he’s doing. The kids won’t be kidnapped. The staff won’t be held hostage by the kids. Everything will be alright. Everything will be al-

The familiar giggles of the twins came echoing from the front door and you swear you’ve never run faster to the front door to greet them still slipping over newly lotion feet.

“Mycroft! Casie! Alex! You’re hom-holy hell Mycroft what happened?”

Within the pram Cassandra sat proudly with what looked like crumbled bits of a report file in her fat fingers. Her curls slathered in what looked like printer ink and her pink dress adorned with  carpet bunnies galore.

Alexander on the other-hand looked to be stamped with kisses and equally messy as his sister only his little suit soiled with different makeup foundations.

Together the twins looked equally impressed by their trip to the office but none more so than their father.

“I merely let the office experience what would happen should they decide to call upon me again before our leave expires,” Mycroft states as matter of factually. Carefully he detaches Cassandra from her seat while you retrieve Alexander from his. 

“So does that mean that they’ll stop pestering you for help?” you ask hopefully as you free Alex from the pram and into your arms for a quick cuddle. Cassie is already toddling off with her stolen treasure babbling at a mile a minute.

“If they don’t want to suffer Stevens and Sweeting’s fates they shall shudder to even speak my name in hushed whispers in the night,” Mycroft confesses.

“What happened to Stevens and Sweeting?”