Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Legwork. Mycroft curled his lip in distaste as he watched the video feed playing on his phone, tucked in a hidden nook in the wall. He abhorred legwork and had hoped to be done with it ages ago, but this mission was of a delicate nature and required his precision in execution. There was no sound in the hall he occupied, the sound of his breathing prominent in the dead silence. It was two twenty in the morning and the air was still with it, no life force disturbing the peace around him. The weight of his gun was a comforting presence in the hand not holding his phone, and the comm nestled in his ear provided another level of security, no matter how fragile that security may be.
He squinted at the grainy footage showing on his screen, nose practically pressed to the glass. It was a live feed of all the entrances into the laboratory building that Mycroft was currently occupying. He was waiting for the guards to switch shifts before infiltrating one of the labs and retrieving important information. Standing still, he waited for another ten minutes, diligently watching the grainy feed and mentally cursing the shit quality.
"Shift switch successfully completed at 02:30," Anthea's voice buzzed quietly in his ear. "Free to move, sir. You should have ten minutes to get in and out before the guards are near your area of the labs."
"Thank you. Moving in." Mycroft pocketed his phone and shifted his gun to both hands, keeping it tucked close to his body as he quietly made his way down the cold, deserted hallway and to the door between the doorway and the laboratory. Reaching the metal door marked "exclusive personnel only", Mycroft took out a keycard from his pocket and swiped it, holding his breath as he waited for the light to turn from red to green. When it did, he opened the door with a muted click and entered the room.
Darkness stretched out endlessly in front of him, a halo of light surrounding him from the small window in the door the only illumination into the room. Digging in one of the many pockets of his tac suit, Mycroft retrieved a flashlight and clicked it on, creating a concentrated circle of light. Swinging the beam back and forth, he took in the rows and rows of long, empty workbenches, supplies piled on the counters and in the cupboards lining the walls. Quietly, Mycroft stalked down the main aisle, scouring the space for a filing cabinet or desk that might hold the information he was after. Going deeper into the room he noticed another metal door at the end of the main aisle, this one without a window. He hummed quietly under his breath, considering whether he should enter the room.
"Anthea, is there another room attached to this one on the ground plans of the building?" he checked. He couldn’t recall there being one, but wasn’t above double-checking.
"No, sir," she replied.
"I seem to have found a secret room. I believe it's where the information is. I'm going in."
"Be careful sir. We have an extraction team ready to go if necessary."
"Copy that. Going in now." Quietly Mycroft tiptoed to the door, pressing his ear to the seam and hearing nothing on the other side. He wrapped his fingers around the cool metal of the handle of the door and threw it open, gun preceding him into the room. Light spilled forth as the door swung open and Mycroft was greeted with the sight of a room shallower than the previous one, containing only one workbench and an examination table. At the examination table was a woman in her mid-twenties, hair tied back loosely into a ponytail and white lab coat hanging haphazardly on her frame, questionable stains covering it. Laying on the table in front of her was a small child, eyes glassy and blonde curls plastered to her forehead with sweat, dressed only in a diaper. She was sobbing quietly, hands pressed to her chest by one of the woman's hands.
"Get out," The woman snarled, eyeing Mycroft's gun warily.
"I believe that's my line," Mycroft drawled, an eyebrow raising elegantly as he thumbed the safety on the gun. The woman’s eyes darted quickly between the gun, Mycroft's face, the child and the workbench.
"I wouldn't make any sudden moves if I were you," Mycroft warned the woman. "Grab the child and I will allow you to leave unharmed. I was never here. You were never here."
"Alright," the woman said, grabbing the baby around the waist and resting her on one hip. The child was still crying, big tears rolling down her already soaked face.
Mycroft would later blame his lack of deducing the woman’s motive on the distractingly screaming baby in the woman’s arms. The woman started moving towards Mycroft and the door, keeping her eyes fixed on the gun. When she drew level with Mycroft, she sprung into action, shoving the baby roughly at him and diving for the workbench, hitting a button under it and running for the door. Cursing, Mycroft caught the baby one handed and plopped her unceremoniously on the workbench, turning to race after the woman. In the distance, he heard the pounding of several sets of approaching footsteps, and quickly figured that at least three guards were on their way to take him out. By this point, the baby was working her way up to a shriek.
"Anthea, we have a situation. Three guards are en route my way and I have a child with me. Ready the evac team. I will get the information and work my way out of here."
"Copy that, sir." Huffing in frustration at the mission gone awry, Mycroft tucked his gun away and hurried over to the filing cabinet he had spotted by the workbench and opened the middle drawer, having deduced where the information he sought was located. Quickly pulling it out, he folded it and tucked it into its designated pocket on the outside of his upper right forearm. Turning back to the door, he caught sight of the baby on the workbench, face red as her body wracked with sobs.
"Oh for-" going towards the baby, he tried to pick her up. In response she screamed bloody murder and started pushing at his hands, futilely trying to get him off her.
"Come, I'm not going to hurt you," he said, annoyed and pressured as he heard the pounding footsteps getting closer. "You are making the situation worse, not better," he singsonged through clenched teeth. The baby went stiff as a board, sobs still wracking her small body as she heaved ear-piercing shrieks. Mycroft hooked one arm around her back and the other beneath her bum, securing her close to his chest even though she was stiff and unpliable.
Dashing towards the exit, Mycroft took out his gun once more and kept it at his side, ready to take aim if the need arose. He got out of the room and started sprinting towards the nearest exit, pulse pounding in his ears and drowning out any other noise. As he turned the corner, he spotted a guard at the other end of the hall running towards him. He swung back around the corner, cursing quietly as he tried to think of another way out. Making a decision, he sat the baby on the floor beside him.
"Stay" he told her firmly, positioning his gun in his hands and leaning around the corner, taking aim and firing at the guard. He watched as his bullet passed unerringly through the guard’s heart, a searing pain lancing his side as he watched the guard fall. Belatedly, he realized the guard had also fired and, lifting his arm, Mycroft noticed a graze along his ribs that was starting to bleed freely. "Great," he muttered, switching his gun to his injured side as he bent down and scooped up the child, propping her on his uninsured hip. The baby had not stopped crying but had tucked her thumb in her mouth and went with Mycroft without resistance.
"All it took was killing a man to earn your trust, eh?" Mycroft asked drily. He took a moment to lean against the wall and looked down at the baby, noticing a small bracelet on her wrist. 'Jaclynn-13522' was engraved on it, similar to a medical emergency bracelet. He noticed that now that the child had calmed somewhat, she was still very warm to the touch, which was worrying. "Well, Jaclynn, we'd best get moving." Tucking the girl closer to him, Mycroft started running once more down the hallway, each breath burning a little more. When he reached the end of the hallway, he ran headlong into another man. Lifting his gun on instinct, it took him a few seconds to recognize the man as one of his own people.
"Sir," the other man greeted. "We've got an ambulance waiting around the corner."
Gratefully, Mycroft followed the other man out of the building and down the block, entering a deep alley that had an unmarked ambulance parked at the end. "Thank you, report back to Anthea."
" Yes, sir." With a salute, the other man trotted back down the alley and disappeared around the corner.
"Hello, sir," Marcia, the only paramedic that Mycroft trusted implicitly, greeted him. "Bit of a rough night?"
"You have no idea," he sighed, a chuckle escaping at the end. "I've only got a graze on my side, but little Jaclynn seems to be running a fever of some sort."
"Alright, we'll get you patched up quickly and see what we can do for little miss," Marcia replied, smiling kindly at the baby.
"She hasn't stopped crying," Mycroft commented as he handed her to Marcia so that he could remove his shirt. As soon as he lost contact with her, Jaclynn started panicking again, screaming and kicking and sobbing in Marcia's arms. Quickly Mycroft finished, taking Jaclynn back and bouncing her on his knees, trying to soothe her.
"Um, sir I wouldn't-" but Marcia's warning came too late as vomit covered Jaclynn's front as well as a good portion of Mycroft's lap and bare chest. Mycroft just shrugged and sighed; honestly his day couldn't get any worse. Marcia got flannels from a compartment in the ambulance and quickly mopped up the vomit, throwing the dirty flannels in a plastic bag and settling in to look at Mycroft's side. "It's not bad," she commented as she cleaned it. "No stitches I'll just bandage it up for you." And she did just that, efficiently wrapping Mycroft's torso in white gauze and taping the end to the rest of the bandage. She then handed him a paracetamol to swallow dry. Jaclynn had slowly calmed down throughout the process, the tears stopping but her thumb staying firmly in her mouth.
"Alright, can you lay her on your lap for me?" Mycroft placed one hand carefully behind Jaclynn's head, lowering her slowly so that she was on her back. "Good. Now, it does appear she's running a fever so I'll just grab a thermometer and put it under her armpit, yes that's a good girl you be good and don't squirm. Alright, yes indeed that's a fever higher than we would like so I'll just grab a cold compress here and if you could hold it to her forehead, yeah she's not going to like that," she switched fluidly in and out of baby talk as she handed the compress to Mycroft and continued her examination. "Alright, love, I don't feel any unusual lumps or swelling anywhere, you've probably just got a cold. She's got a bit of a runny nose that I don't think is from her crying, so that's something to keep an eye out for. I'd say pick up some baby paracetamol and I’ve got some ORS that you can give her alongside her formula to help with the dehydration. Have her take it easy for the next couple days. You are planning on taking her, sir?" Marcia asked innocently.
"Well, I hardly think that's proper protocol," Mycroft blustered weakly.
"So I'll send care instructions to Anthea to pass along to you?" Marcia asked, a grin lighting up her features.
"Yes, alright," Mycroft responded, rolling his eyes and gazing down fondly at the small girl on his lap.
"She seems to be about thirteen months, if it matters," Marcia supplied, both of them gazing at Jaclynn as she fought to keep her eyes open.
"Yes, I figured as much. I remember Sherlock at around the same age."
"Well then she's in good hands." Marcia started packing up her equipment as Mycroft smiled goofily down at the baby in front of him, cooling compress still pressed gently to her forehead.
"Sir?" Anthea poked her head into the ambulance. "All done?"
"I'll just take her temperature one more time before you leave" Marcia said, brandishing the thermometer towards Mycroft and Jaclynn. Mycroft lifted the sleeping baby's arm up, allowing Marcia to slot in the thermometer.
"The info is in the pocket in my shirt," Mycroft told Anthea, nodding at the shirt in question, still laying on the floor. Anthea quickly retrieved the sheets of paper, tucking them into her own shirt. The thermometer beeped and Marcia pulled it out, glancing down at it. "Fevers gone down considerably. Probably all that crying spiked it as well. I'd say you're both clear to go, and Anthea, I'll be sending you instructions to pass on to Mr. Holmes on the care and keeping of a baby."
“I look forward to it," Anthea said with a small smirk, turning away and heading back towards the car.
"Thank you, as ever, Marcia," Mycroft said softly as he handed the cool compress back to Marcia. In return, she gave him a package of ORS and a thin muslin.
“To keep her warm on the ride home. You’ll be wanting to find her proper clothes.”
“First thing as soon as the shops open,” Mycroft responded as he climbed out of the ambulance, Jaclynn cradled carefully in him arms.
"Good to hear. You take care of that little one now, okay?"
"Of course. I will see you soon."
"Not too soon, I hope. Bye, sir. Good luck." With a wave, Mycroft jogged to the waiting car and climbed in, letting his head fall against the headrest.
"Shall I find someone in foster care to take her, sir?" Anthea asked as the driver pointed the car towards his apartment.
"No," Mycroft responded sternly. "I will take care of her. For now at least." An inexplicable sense of protectiveness washed over him and he looked down at the little girl sleeping peacefully in his arms. Silently, he promised never to let her go.

Chapter Text

Anthea dropped them off at Mycroft’s flat, promising to see that all the loose ends of the mission were tied up. Mycroft carried a sleeping Jaclynn to the elevator, keeping her close to his bare chest and making sure to keep the muslin wrapped tightly around her small form.
As the elevator started ascending, Jaclynn shifted, rubbing her small face into Mycroft’s bare chest and suckling lightly at the skin there.
“Shh,” Mycroft soothed, gently bouncing up and down. “You’re probably hungry, but stores don’t open for another,” here he checked his watch, “five hours. Please don’t wake up.” Jaclynn seemingly complied, stilling once more in his arms as her breathing evened out. “Good girl.” They reached his floor, the penthouse in his building, and he got out of the elevator, digging his key out of his pocket and shifting Jaclynn to his uninjured side, inserting the key into the lock and pressing his thumb to the print-scanner beside the doorknob that he had had installed when he first moved in. With a click the door unlocked and he pushed it open. Turning on the light in his front hall, Mycroft kicked off his shoes and beelined to his bedroom, stopping briefly in the kitchen to drop off the ORS on the counter. Quietly opening the door to his bedroom, he placed Jaclynn gently on his bed and arranged pillows to bracket her on both sides of her torso, keeping her in place. Grabbing a thin blanket from the end of his bed, he tucked it gently around her small body. Looking at her for a moment, Mycroft smiled gently before turning to his closet and opening it, quickly taking out a sleep shirt and sleep pants. He donned them, careful of his grazed side, and climbed into the bed beside Jaclynn. Turning to face her, he watched her eyes flicker behind her pale closed lids. There was still a light sheen of sweat beading on her face, so Mycroft picked up a corner of the blanket, gently running it over her face to clear it of sweat. Jaclynn’s brow furrowed momentarily before smoothing out once more, and Mycroft watched her sleep for as long as he could before he succumbed to sleep as well.
An insistent ringing woke Mycroft some time later. Blearily he looked at his bedside clock and noted it was 7:30 A.M. Reaching down to the floor to fish through the pockets of his pants, Mycroft found his ringing cellphone and answered it.
“Holmes,” Mycroft answered hoarsely.
“Sir,” Anthea greeted. “I’ve just about finished tying up the loose ends of the case. I’m just outside the flat and I’ve got a onesie, a diaper and a bottle for the baby. May I come in?”
“Yes, of course, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” Rubbing his hand over his face, Mycroft looked over to Jaclynn, whose face was scrunching up as she started waking up. Small little whimpers started escaping through her nose as she started squirming and fussing on the bed. Mycroft quickly sat up, scooping Jaclynn and the muslin into his arms and rubbing soothing circles on her back, shushing quietly in her ear. It did little to soothe her, and her cries ramped up in volume and intensity very quickly.
“Come on, Jaclynn, here we go, let’s go see Anthea,” he soothed as he rolled quickly out of bed, Jaclynn tucked securely to his chest. He padded to the kitchen, where Anthea was already waiting with a bottle of ORS and water; gratefully, he took the bottle from Anthea and cradled Jaclynn in one arm, the other coming up to press the nipple of the bottle to Jaclynn’s lips. Greedily she wrapped her lips around the nipple, sucking on the bottle. She finished half the bottle in under a minute and Mycroft wrestled it from her mouth, much to her displeasure.
“If you go too fast, you’ll make yourself sick,” he told her gently, rocking back and forth and rubbing her stomach soothingly. He waited another minute, rocking back and forth, and let her have the rest of the bottle. She finished it quickly, whining a little when the bottle was empty. “Good girl,” Mycroft soothed, taking the muslin that was previously wrapped around her and laying it on his shoulder, propping Jaclynn over his shoulder, rubbing and patting her back and trying to get a burp out of her. Although it had been roughly thirty years since he had done this with Sherlock, it was all quickly coming back to him. It only took a second before she released a little burp, spittle following behind it.
“Very good,” Mycroft praised, laying her on the table and laying the soiled muslin beside her. Removing her diaper, Mycroft looked and noticed a rash starting to form on her bum, and added cream to the mental list of things that needed to be picked up. He put the new one on her, quickly slipping her into the onesie and snapping it up. “There, that’s better,” he crooned softly at her.
“Sir, would you like me to order the things required to care for a baby?”
Mycroft looked at her for a moment. “No, it will be quicker if I go and do it myself.” He was in a “if you want it done right, do it yourself,’ state of mind.
“Yes, sir. Would you like me to come with you?”
“That will be unnecessary. Please finish cleaning up the mission, and find me anything you can on Jaclynn. Then, if you could handle any other emergencies that may arise over the next few days, I will be taking the rest of the week off to get her acclimatized.”
“Yes, sir. You know, Jaclynn is a bit of a long name for everyday use, don’t you think?”
Mycroft regarded Anthea for a moment as he watched her put a hand gently on Jaclynn’s back. “Yes, I suppose so. I quite fancy Jackie as a nickname, don’t you?”
“It’s beautiful, sir.” She smiled at him for a moment. “Well, I’ll be leaving you two now. There’s a car downstairs waiting for you. I’ll be available by phone if you need me.”
“Likewise, if there are any emergencies I will have my phone on me at all times.”
Anthea nodded once more before quietly letting herself out of the flat. Mycroft watched her go before going back to his bedroom, taking Jackie with him and placing her once more on the bed before quickly getting changed into a suit, foregoing the tie. Picking Jackie up once more, Mycroft wrapped her in the muslin, folding the side with the spittle facing out. “We’re going shopping, just for you,” Mycroft whispered as he made his way to the kitchen. Laying her on the table, Mycroft made himself a travel mug of coffee to take along with them. When it was ready, Mycroft picked up Jackie and propped her on his uninjured side, keeping the muslin draped loosely around her. It was an unusually warm summer, so Mycroft wasn’t worried about Jackie getting cold. She was still sniffling and snot was occasionally dripping out of her nose, so Mycroft made sure to tuck a few tissues into his pockets before leaving the flat. The door locked automatically behind him and he quickly got into the elevator and then into the car waiting for him.
“Harrod’s, please,” he told the driver as he got in the back, holding Jackie securely on his lap.
They arrived there quickly, and Mycroft climbed out of the car, slinging Jackie so that she was securely on his hip. “Practical things first, I think, and then the fun stuff,” he told Jackie as he slotted her into the seat in the shopping cart.
She grabbed onto the bar in front of her, slamming her fists onto it a couple times and giving Mycroft a small smile. It was the first time she had smiled at him, and Mycroft smiled back, looking around at the signs and heading towards the children’s section. He quickly headed to the big items, picking out the best crib, pram and car seat, as well as a black leather changing bag and plain front-carrying papoose. He also picked out various three-packs of muslin, one with jungle animals, one with elephants and one with raindrops on them. He also picked out a Burberry check sleep bag, a change mat, a baby bath, several baby towels and a bath wrap that looked like a bear. An assortment of baby body washes, shampoos and conditioners followed, and he determined that he would experiment and determine the best brand. Other essentials including several jumbo boxes of diapers, numerous tins of formula and a bottle of baby paracetamol later, and Mycroft figured they had finished the practical side of their shopping. He quickly arranged with a sales associate to have all the large items shipped to his flat that day.
“Now for the fun stuff,” he grinned at Jackie, who had been impressively silent throughout the first part of the shopping trip. “Let’s start at clothes.” He wheeled the cart to the baby clothing section. Frills, bright colours and frothy lace surrounded him. It was early enough in the morning that the children’s section was mostly empty, most parents at work or still at home with their young children. Mycroft headed to one of the racks and picked out onesies in a variety of plain colours, as well as various pairs of baby jeans and jumpers. He also picked out a Paddington Bear style raincoat.
He then found the dress section. There was enough frill and lace to make a pageant mom happy for the rest of her life, and Mycrof, loathe as he was to admit it, indulged a little. He picked out a dress that had stripes on the top and a floral skirt, a soft pink dress made completely of lace, a more practical cotton, pleated, striped dress in light blue, a polo striped dress in a lilac, a sailor-style light dress with polkadots covering it and a handful of body and playsuits, one with a pastel rainbow print, one with a cartoon elephant on the front, one made of denim and one in a buttery cream colour.
“Perhaps that’s enough for now,” Mycroft said after a moment, looking at the mountain of fabric now piled in their cart. Jackie just looked at him and clapped her hands, clueless to the hint of embarrassment Mycroft was feeling. Looking more sedately through the section, he picked out several packages of multi-coloured socks, some with lace, some with polka dots, and some that were plain. “That should last you for the rest of the summer, at least,” he decided, looking around. “And now, for toys.” He pushed the cart towards the toy section, hesitant as lights, colours, and sounds more overwhelming than a multi-national conference of world leaders surronded him.
“Where to start, hmmm?” he asked Jackie, who looked around as if contemplating their dilemma.
“Ooh!” she cried suddenly, both hands reaching out for a soft teddy bear on display.
“You like that?” Mycroft asked, picking it up off the shelf. It was a sandy brown, a little bigger than his hand and softer than sin. He handed it to Jackie, who wrapped her arms around it immediately. “Anything else that catches your eye?” But Jackie was enthralled with the bear now, rubbing her face in the soft fur. Mycroft smiled softly and then an idea occurred to him. Pulling out his phone, he quickly clicked a photo and sent it to Anthea, pocketing the phone once more and pushing forward. He spotted blocks with letters and pictures on all sides. Taking a set off the shelf, he put it in the shopping cart. Beside that set was another set, a set of blocks with the periodic elements on them.
“Perfect,” he said, picking it up and dropping that into the cart as well. “I’m not sure if you’re walking yet, or what your mobility is, so we’ll hold off on a walker right now.” Then another brightly coloured toy caught his eye. “Or maybe not. A 3-in-1 bounce, stride and ride elephant. Well, that seems good for all developmental stages. Let’s get one of those then, shall we?” He put the large box into the shopping cart. Then he spotted a brightly coloured, flashing toy. “This?” he asked hesitantly, showing it to Jackie.
“No!” she shrieked, smiling as she did so.
“What other words do you know?” Mycroft asked contemplatively, not really expecting an answer. He was quickly realizing that he knew very little about the baby in front of him, including developmental stage and health concerns. He shook himself out of his thoughts quickly. “Well, I don’t like it either. This one would’ve just been annoying.” He put the toy back on the shelf and continued down the aisles. Together they picked out a few more stuffed animals, as well as some other developmental and play toys. He decided they would go to a bookstore another time to pick out a selection of books.
They made their way to the checkout, Mycroft quickly unloading his cart and watching the salesperson ring it through. He sent off a quick text to his driver, requesting he come in and help bring out his purchases. Jackie was starting to get fussy now, kicking her small legs and narrowly missing Mycroft’s crotch. She was also pursing her lips and wrinkling her nose.
“Time to eat, I’d say,” the saleswoman chuckled as she quickly rang Mycroft through.
“I suppose it’s been a couple hours, yes,” he answered, realizing for the first time how long they’d been in the store. Distractedly, he waved his hand in front of Jackie’s face. She was not amused by this, however. She started crying, fat tears rolling down her face and falling into the fur of the teddy bear she was holding.
“Oh dear,” Mycroft sighed, pulling her out of the shopping cart and propping her on his hip, bouncing her gently as she continued to sob. “There, there,” he soothed. “We’re just going to have to borrow that for a second, my dear,” he continued, gently prying the teddy bear from Jackie’s fingers. She sobbed even harder, and the saleswoman quickly scanned the bear before handing it back to Mycroft. “Thank you.” He quickly pulled out his card and paid, bouncing Jackie continuously in his arms to no avail. “Come, Jackie, it’s okay.” Then, he remembered a trick that used to work on Sherlock when he was a baby. Digging in his pockets, Mycroft pulled out his house keys and dangled them in front of Jackie, getting them to jangle enticingly. Jackie’s sobs slowed as she focused on the keys in front of her. Reaching out, she grabbed onto the keys and tugged, sticking one into her mouth happily and dropping her bear in the process. As long as she was quiet and happy, Mycroft was happy as well. Picking up the dropped bear, he threw it in a bag. His driver approached just then, grabbing the assembled bags in both hands and walking towards the door. Mycroft followed, taking a content Jackie with him. He slid into the backseat, holding her once more on his lap. Although he had purchased a car seat, he was having it delivered along with the other big items. The drive was quiet, Mycroft occasionally jangling the keys in front of Jackie to keep her occupied. When they got in, Mycroft and the driver went up to his flat, and the driver dropped the bags in the sitting room.
“That will be all, thank you,” Mycroft dismissed him. The driver left without another word, closing the door quietly behind him. “Food first, I think,” Mycroft said to Jackie, finding the formula in the bags and quickly making a bottle for her. Efficiently he cradled Jackie in one arm, feeding the bottle to her with the other hand and rocking her. When she was halfway through the bottle, there was knock on the door. Mycroft went to open it and was greeted with the sight of two men in overalls.
“Hello sir, we’re here with a Harrod’s delivery. Where would you like the stuff?”
Mycroft paused, momentary panic setting in as one thought coursed through his head. Where will I put all of this?

Chapter Text

“It’s a good thing I have a spare room,” Mycroft said to Jackie, who was sitting on the floor of said room, happily banging blocks on the floor. He had quickly snapped out of his panic after the moving men arrived, directing them to drop the large boxes in his spare room. He turned down their offer to help him set things up and sent them on their way with a generous tip.
He was now in the process of building the crib, which had come in a flat-pack box. “I’m a genius, and I cannot for the life of me figure out where this stupid piece is supposed to go,” Mycroft said, brandishing a long piece of wood uselessly. “Do you know where this goes?” he asked Jackie, who giggled and clapped. “You, my dear, are completely useless,” he said with a soft smile towards her, not meaning it.
Jackie sneezed in reply, dropping the block she had been holding in her hand. “Oh dear,” Mycroft whispered, dropping the piece of wood and rushing to cross the few feet between Jackie and himself, pulling out a tissue and quickly wiping her nose with it. He had given her some of the baby paracetamol that he had picked up, and it had helped with the fever but did not help much with the congestion. If it didn’t let up in a couple of days, he would see about taking her to a doctor.
“There, better now?” he asked as he finished mopping the snot off her face. Without waiting for a response, he tucked the tissue back into his pockets and went back over to the pile of wooden slats that were supposed to form a crib, leaving Jackie to play with the blocks once more. Sitting down in front of the pile, Mycroft picked up the directions again and read through them, reading the directions in all the languages provided to see if they would give him any more clarity. They did not.
Frustrated, he grabbed two pieces and tried to slot them together; they were half a centimeter off and wouldn’t fit together. Huffing in frustration, Mycroft picked up another slat and tried to fit it to both of the previous slats, to no avail. Growling, he scooped up one last one and jammed it into another slat, and it was a perfect fit. Shouting in triumph, Mycroft held the two pieces aloft. “Look, Jackie, I am smarter than this stupid piece of furniture!” Looking over, Mycroft was greeted with the sight of an abandoned pile of blocks, no baby in sight.
“Oh, shit.” Springing up, Mycroft ran to the abandoned pile and looked around the room devoid of any furniture. “Bugger.”
Rushing through the open bedroom door, Mycroft spotted a tiny bottom crawling merrily towards the living room. “Oh, no you don’t,” he said, easily catching up with his long strides and scooping Jackie up and into his arms. “Good try, my love,” he said, laying a tentative kiss on the top of her head. It was the first time he had kissed her, but it felt right. “A government official almost confounded by a baby,” he said to her, shaking his head. “Not today.” Hopefully not ever, he added silently. “Come now, I was starting to get the hang of this crib. Let’s see if I can’t finish it.” Carrying her back into the room, Mycroft deposited Jackie by the blocks once more.
“Alright, little one. Once I’m done this we’ll take a break.” And Mycroft got back to work, building the crib with less difficulty. He made sure to keep an eye on Jackie, who crawled over to him at one point and sat beside him, watching him assemble her crib.
When he was done, Mycroft scooped her up and sat her in the crib momentarily. “How is that?” he asked as he leaned his arms against the crib’s bar, resting his head on his crossed arms. Jackie flailed her arms, knocking herself onto her back. She looked startled for a moment and then looked around her from her new vantage point, kicking her legs in the air. “Close enough to approval for me,” Mycroft said, scooping the baby up and going to the kitchen. On their way, Jackie’s stomach grumbled perceptibly. “Snack time it is,” Mycroft said, bouncing her a few times before sitting her on the counter in the kitchen. He started digging through the bags, finding a bottle and a tin of formula. “I’ll just make you up a bottle and-“ a thought occurred to him, stopping him in his tracks. “Have you begun eating solids yet?” Starting back into motion, he finished making the bottle absently and sat at the kitchen table with it, sitting Jackie on his lap and offering her the bottle one handed. She wrapped both her hands around it, helping him support it. With his other hand, Mycroft did a quick internet search. “It says here that some pediatricians think you should start to wean at 12 months. You don’t seem to be weaned yet, so we’ll have to get started on that shortly. Oh and you should start on solid food. Good thing I bought some baby food, isn’t it? Well, we’ll give that a go next mealtime, shall we?” Jackie had been happily sucking at the bottle, not needing Mycroft’s help supporting it. When she finished it she dropped it, sending it rolling across the floor and into the feet of one consulting detective.
“Brother,” Sherlock greeted. Mycroft could see John stood a little behind him.
“Sherlock, how did you get in?”
“You have a baby?” Sherlock asked, ignoring Mycroft’s question.
“Yes.”
“I picked the lock. And you have my thumbprint encoded into the system, as well as Anthea’s and John’s.”
“Your thumbprints are in that system for emergencies. Is this an emergency?”
“Well if you have kidnapped a baby, then I would consider it an emergency,” Sherlock retorted.
“I did not kidnap her, as you can well deduce,” Mycroft answered back.
“Yes you clearly weren’t expecting her, going by the slapdash readying you have done for her arrival.” Sherlock let his eyes wander around to the open bedroom door. “Did the baby build that crib?” he asked. “I think some of the pieces are in the wrong places.”
“No, she did not build the crib,” Mycroft said, rolling his eyes. “And her name is Jackie.”
“Jackie? A pedestrian name, isn’t it?”
“Sherlock, be nice,” John scolded from behind him.
“It’s short for Jaclynn,” Mycroft continued.
“It’s a beautiful name,” John supplied, stepping forward and putting a hand on the small of Sherlock’s back. Although it looked like an affectionate move, and it was, Mycroft saw it for the warning move that it also was. Sherlock hummed, non-committal. Mycroft knew it was all for show, could tell by the small smile that Sherlock couldn’t keep from playing around his lips and the warm spark in his eyes. “So how exactly did you get her, if it’s not confidential?”
“Well I can’t say much more than a botched mission,” Mycroft admitted, picking her up and propping her on his shoulder after grabbing a nearby muslin.
“And is she… permanently yours?” John asked delicately.
“That is the plan,” Mycroft answered back, cringing as he felt a warmth spread over his back, predicated by a burp.
“Good aim,” Sherlock praised as he held out his hands for Jackie. Mycroft hesitated for only a moment before putting Jackie in Sherlock’s outstretched arms. Sherlock took her eagerly, confident in his hold on her. As confident as he was, Jackie still fussed at being put in a stranger’s arms, kicking her legs and swinging her arms. Pulling the muslin gently from his back, Mycroft folded the soiled cloth and put it in one of the hampers he had placed in every room of the flat. He figured they would come in use.
“How old? Twelve months?” Sherlock asked, looking down at her and grabbing the hand that was reaching for his curls. “Do not grab that,” he cooed at her.
“Thirteen. She’s a bit small,” Mycroft answered.
“You’re good with her,” John said to Sherlock, smiling at him.
“Yes, well, babies are too new to be dull,” he retorted. John just rolled his eyes.
“Well, if you’re planning on keeping her, do you want me to be her GP? Since I’m yours and your brothers?” John asked Mycroft.
“Of course, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“For someone this cute, I wouldn’t mind at all,” John cooed at Jackie. “Sherlock, give your brother his baby back.” Sherlock handed Jackie back over to Mycroft as John went to the sink to wash his hands. Instantly, Jackie calmed down. Sherlock crossed his arms and leaned against the opposite counter, watching John. “She’s very comfortable with you. Can you sit on the table for me, Mycroft?”
Mycroft sat himself easily on the table. “Yes, I… rescued her. I’m not sure of all the details myself, but it did not seem like a good situation she was in. She seems to realize on some level that I saved her, as it were.”
“Good,” John said distractedly, looking into her eyes. Putting his hand gently on her cheek, he pulled down the bottom lid so that he could examine her eye. He quickly did the same on the other side. “Eyes are clear. Penlight?” he asked from the brothers.
“Here,” Sherlock offered one from his coat pocket.
“Thanks, love.” John took it from him and moved to the side, shining it into Jackie’s ear before moving to the other side and doing the same thing. Moving back to the front, John grabbed Jackie’s chin in his hand and gently pulled downward, prompting her to open her mouth. Up until this point she had been relatively still, only squirming when John had touched her face. Now she jerked violently, whimpering a little as she turned her head. “It’s okay,” John crooned at Jackie. “Come now, nice and easy.” But she refused to face him, burrowing her face into Mycroft’s side. “Mycroft, I’m going to need your help.” Mycroft was looking down at the small face burrowed into his shirt.
“Must we? Clearly she’s not enjoying it.”
“Mycroft,” John said flatly. Mycroft sighed.
“Yes, alright.” Gently he took Jackie’s face in one hand and turned it towards John, using his thumb to press her mouth open. She struggled a bit, but seemed calmer with Mycroft’s hand on her.
“There we go, that’s a good girl,” John murmured as he shone the light in her mouth. Gently he ran his finger over her gums. She already had her four front teeth. “Gums look good, it doesn’t look like any other teeth are coming in yet but you should be expecting them shortly.” Handing Sherlock’s penlight back to him, John put his hands on Jackie’s head. She whimpered quietly but let him. “All looks good. Can you lay her on the table for me?” Mycroft did quickly as asked, holding her hand with his and keeping his other hand on her head. John quickly ran his hands over her stomach and legs, moving her legs around and checking her joints. Opening her onesie, he pulled it up and opened her diaper, checking for rashes or infection. He quickly fastened the diaper back on her, snapping the onesie back up. “All seems well here, I noticed she’s got a bit of a runny nose?” John asked, motioning that Mycroft could pick her back up. Doing so, Mycroft cradled her securely to his chest.
“Yes, she had a bit of a fever when I… when she joined me,” he said. “She was checked out by a trusted paramedic and she said baby paracetamol for the fever, which I did. The fever seems to have gone down.” Mycroft tried to tamp down the note of panic he could feel creeping into his voice.
“That’s perfectly fine. I wouldn’t do any more now that the fever has gone down. Unfortunately with babies the most you can do is use a saline solution to clear her nostrils. I’ll text you instructions and bring over some saline. You wouldn’t happen to know if she’s had her shots, would you?”
“I don’t know. I am having Anthea get all the information she can, so hopefully I will know soon enough. I will have her send you all the medical information we have on her.”
“That would be great. When exactly did you get her, anyway?”
“Last night. Well, this morning to be exact.”
“You’ve done remarkably well, considering,” John said, impressed.
“Yes, we went shopping this morning.” Jackie was starting to yawn and rub her face against his chest. “And it seems it’s catching up to us.” Mycroft gently rocked her, shushing into her ear.
“Well, we’d better leave you to it, then,” John whispered, smiling at the baby who was having trouble keeping her eyes open. “You’ll get to test out that new crib.”
“Quite,” Mycroft said with a smile. “Thank you for everything, John.”
“Of course. We’ll be by in the next few days. Bye.”
“Goodbye John, Sherlock.”
“Make sure she sleeps,” Sherlock told Mycroft. Mycroft knew it was his brother’s way of showing his affection towards Jackie. They let themselves out while Mycroft moved into the bedroom, gently laying Jackie in the crib and pulling the light blanket over her. She went down without much of a fuss, falling readily into a deep sleep.
“It’s been a long day,” Mycroft whispered, looking down at her. “Sleep now, my love.” Going into the living room, he rooted through some bags before finding the baby monitors he had purchased. Quickly inserting the batteries, he turned them on and moved back to the bedroom, placing one on the floor by the bed. Taking the matching one, he moved back into the living room and stretched out on the couch. He had only gotten a few hours of sleep the night before and was starting to feel the exhaustion of a busy day. Moments later he fell asleep, baby monitor still clutched in his hand.

Chapter Text

A sharp cry woke Mycroft as it pierced from the monitor in his hand. Jerking out of a deep sleep, Mycroft tossed the monitor onto the couch and hurried into Jackie’s room. It was still filled mostly with boxes, Jackie’s crib like an island in the middle of the room. Going quickly to the crib, Mycroft leaned in and picked up a crying Jackie under the armpits, tucking her to his chest and bouncing her up and down, shushing soothingly in her ear.
“It’s alright, you’re alright,” he murmured. “What’s the matter?” Rubbing her back, Mycroft went into the kitchen and laid Jackie on the kitchen table, which had become a temporary changing table. Laying her down, he unsnapped her onesie and opened her diaper; greeted with the cause of at least some of Jackie’s distress, Mycroft quickly stripped it off and grabbed a wet wipe, wiping her down and putting cream on her before putting on a new diaper.
“There, that’s better,” Mycroft tried to soothe, but Jackie wasn’t buying it. She kept crying, kicking her tiny legs into the air and waving her fists. Mycroft picked her up, propping her on one hip as he went and gathered a bottle and the formula. Juggling the baby in one arm while making the bottle with the other hand, Mycroft quickly put the formula and water in the bottle, warming it up and presenting it to an unimpressed Jackie. She fussed a little, huffing a few angry breaths out of her mouth before accepting the nipple.
“Someone’s grumpy in the morning,” he crooned as Jackie eagerly sucked down the bottle, grabbing onto it with both hands. Glancing at the clock, Mycroft was surprised to note that it was 6:00 a.m. Both he and Jackie had passed out for the entire night. Mycroft was interrupted in his thoughts by a knock on the door. It was very rare that Mycroft have visitors, and he was hesitant to answer the door with a baby in his arms. Reluctantly, Mycroft approached the door and tapped the LED screen in the wall, turning on the camera aimed at his front door.
“It’s me,” John called through the door as Mycroft’s screen came to life, showing that it was indeed John. Opening the door, Mycroft greeted him with a tired smile.
“It will take me a while to get used to that sight,” John said, smiling at Jackie.
“How can I help you, John?” Mycroft asked as Jackie finished her bottle, dropping it. Mycroft sighed and crouched down, picking up the bottle.
“I was just stopping by on my way to work to drop off the saline and bulb syringe,” he answered, brandishing a small plastic bag.
“Ah, yes, thank you,” Mycroft said, taking the bag. “I believe these will come in handy. She has been sounding particularly congested this morning.”
“Poor thing,” John answered. “Well I’d best get going. We’ll see you soon, and if you ever need babysitters, feel free to ask Sherlock and I.”
“Thank you, John,” Mycroft said, closing the door as John turned to catch the elevator.
Turning back into his flat, Mycroft looked down as Jackie’s stomach grumbled. “Still hungry?” he asked. “Well, I suppose we were going to try solids today, weren’t we? Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here.” Mycroft moved into the kitchen once more and took stock. Reaching into one of the bags he had yet to unpack, Mycroft pulled out a small container of pureed bananas and a baby spoon.
“Let’s try this, shall we?” he asked, sitting down on one of the chairs at the kitchen table and sitting Jackie on his lap. Opening the container, Mycroft dipped the spoon into the purée and presented it to Jackie. Leaning forward, she wrapped her lips around the small spoon and Mycroft pulled it out of her mouth, clean. She smacked her lips, a clear invitation for more.
“Good, then,” Mycroft decided. He fed her the rest of the container to Jackie, happy that he had found something she liked to eat. When they had finished, he sat her on the floor, threw out the container and rinsed the spoon, putting it away.
“What now, my dear?” Jackie gave no response. Mycroft looked around and decided that he should put away the shopping that he hadn’t gotten to yesterday.
Slipping into the sitting room, Mycroft picked up a stuffed animal and the set of blocks with the periodical elements on them. He brought them back into the kitchen, dropping them on the floor beside Jackie and making sure she was confortable before he turned to the multitude of bags.
They spent most of the morning like this, Jackie occasionally making a break for it and Mycroft quickly catching her before she crawled too far. It was around lunch that their day changed.
Mycroft was finishing feeding Jackie a lunch of mashed peas when his phone rang from the other room.
“One minute,” Mycroft told Jackie, leaving her happily babbling to herself in the high chair he had unpacked that morning. Reaching the sitting room, he picked up his phone.
“Holmes,” Mycroft greeted, not looking at the call display on his phone.
“Mr. Holmes, it’s Greg Lestrade,” came the harried voice down the line.
“Hello Mr. Lestrade. What can I help you with?”
“It’s Sherlock. I called him in on a case and the perp was on the scene and tried to make an escape, and in that attempt he sliced Sherlock pretty bad with a knife. He’s in surgery now, but I thought you’d want to know.”
Mycroft felt ice wrapped around his heart. Usually he would drop everything without a second thought, but now he had Jackie to worry about.
“You’re at Bart’s?” he asked curtly.
“Yeah, he went into surgery twenty minutes ago.”
“Where was John?”
“Work. I called him and he’s on his way over.”
“Of course.” Mycroft thought for a minute more, but couldn’t bear sitting at home waiting to hear news. “I’m coming. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“See you.”
With that, Mycroft clicked off his phone, letting out a soft curse under his breath. “We’re going on another field trip,” Mycroft told Jackie as he texted his driver. He assembled a diaper bag, making sure he had a container of baby cereal and a divertissement for Jackie. Then he dressed her, slipping a tiny pair of jeans and a short sleeve shirt over her onesie. Taking out the papousse, he took a moment to figure out how it worked and strapped on and then got Jackie securely in it. Double checking that he had everything, Mycroft quickly exited, locked up his flat and rode the elevator to the first floor. Getting out, Mycroft exited through the lobby, nodding at the doorman on his way out and ducking into his waiting car.
“Bart’s,” he told the driver. He was silent on the ride over, playing absentmindedly with Jackie’s hands and feet as he let himself float in his thoughts.
When they pulled up to Bart’s, Mycroft exited the car, grabbing the diaper bag on his way. He hurried into the hospital; when he reached the front desk, he greeted the woman behind the desk with a “Holmes, Sherlock. What room?”
Her fingers flew across the keyboard and her eyes scanned the screen in front of her. “He’s still in surgery, but you can head to family waiting room F down the hall, I believe some of his family is already there.”
‘Yes, thank you.” Turning down the hall, Mycroft found the right door and pushed it open. He was met with the sight of John pacing the length of the room, Lestrade sitting on a chair with his head hanging, hands clasped between his knees. When the door opened, John stopped and spun towards it and Greg’s head shot up.
“Mycroft,” John greeted curtly.
“How is he?” Mycroft asked.
“Stabbed in the abdomen, they got his lower intestine. He should be coming out of surgery soon.” The unspoken ‘if all goes well’ hung ominously in the room.
“Did you at least get the perp?” This was directed at Lestrade.
Lestrade, who had been staring at the papousse, jerked out of his distraction. “Yeah, one of my constables caught him on his way out the door. Sorry, is that a baby?”
“Good.” Jackie was craning her neck, trying to locate the other voices in the room. “Yes, it is a baby, her name is Jackie. Seeing as we’re going to be here for a while, I’d like to get her out of here. Doctor, your assistance?”
“Of course,” John said, moving forward and holding out his hands. Mycroft lifted Jackie out of the papousse, handing her to John as he worked himself out of the straps. When he had gotten the holder off and placed it on a chair, he took Jackie back from John.
“She’s looking good,” John noted as he handed her over.
“Yes, I fed her some solids today, that seems to have perked her up a bit.”
“Good,” John nodded.
“Sorry, is she yours?”
“Ah yes, allow me to introduce you. Mr. Lestrade, this is Jackie. Jackie, this is Gregory Lestrade. I recently… acquired her. She is not mine biologically.” Jackie was sat on Mycroft’s hip and stared at Lestrade with unwavering eyes.
“Hello Jackie,” Greg said softly, leaning down so that he would be on the same eye level as her. “She’s gorgeous.”
“Yes, I think so too,” Mycroft answered, bouncing her gently. Sitting down on one of the hard plastic chairs, Mycroft sat Jackie on his lap and brought out her teddy bear from the diaper bag. Holding it in front of her, Mycroft wiggled the bear in her direction. Jackie reached out with both hands, grabbing fistfuls of fur and fluff and bringing the bear towards her, swinging it up and down. Mycroft smiled softly at her, holding her firmly on his lap. She looked up at Mycroft, smiling and giggling. “Yes, very good,” he praised her softly.
There was a knock on the door and Anthea poked her head in. “Sir, I have the information you requested.” At his nod, she entered the room fully and crossed to him, giving him a folder. He scanned quickly through, memorizing the folder before handing it off to John. He kept his temper carefully under control.
John took it with an inquisitive brow, opening it up and quickly reading the first page. His brow cleared, and then furrowed again in anger.
“What-“ Greg started.
“It’s Jackie’s file,” Mycroft told him. “I found her a day ago in a research facility and rescued her. It says in the file that she was an orphan that the company got hold of because she was small and underdeveloped for her age, and they were working on some sort of genetic experiment to help with baby growth. Thankfully she was sick with a cold, which she still hasn’t managed to kick, and they hadn’t done any experiments on her yet.” Mycroft was carefully controlling the anger that was boiling up inside him.
“That’s outrageous,” Greg exclaimed. “And illegal, I would hope.”
“Yes, well that’s part of the reason we infiltrated it,” Mycroft answered. “This is of the highest security, and I would thank you not to go repeating what you hear in this room, Detective Inspector.”
“Of course,” Greg confirmed. “Were there others?”
“She was the first in the line of human experiments,” Mycroft answered.
“It also says she hasn’t gotten her pokes yet,” John said, closing the folder and handing it back to Anthea. “We’ll need to do that pretty quickly.”
“Yes,” Mycroft sighed, knowing it wouldn’t be fun when the time came. “Anthea, I’m sure you have more important things to be doing. Thank you for bringing me the information.”
“My pleasure, sir. Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will.” With that, Anthea quietly left the room.
“Have you gotten to use the saline yet?” John asked after a few minutes of silence.
“Not yet. I was going to do it after lunch, but we were interrupted.”
“Mmm well she doesn’t seem to be suffering too much for it.”
“Yes, a full night’s sleep seems to have done wonders.” They let silence reign once more, only broken by Jackie’s giggles on Mycroft’s lap. All three men sat and watched Jackie play innocently, unaware of the tension in the room.
What felt like hours later the door opened once more, admitting a doctor.
“For Holmes?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m his brother,” Mycroft moved forward, securing Jackie on his hip.
“I’m doctor Michaels,” she greeted, extending her hand.
“Mycroft Holmes. How is my brother?” he asked, shaking her outstretched hand.
“He is doing well, he’s just got out of surgery. He’ll be asleep for a while yet but he’s in his room now so you may go see him if you wish.”
“Yes, we will.” Turning back, Mycroft quickly gathered the diaper bag and discarded papousse and motioned for the doctor to lead the way. The three of them followed her in silence until they reached a closed door. When Dr. Michaels opened the door, she revealed a pale, sleeping Sherlock stretched out on a crisp, clean hospital bed.
“He should wake up within the next hour or so,” the doctor told the three men.
“Thank you, doctor,” Mycroft said, walking towards the bed and sitting in one of the chairs pulled up to the side of the bed. Dr. Michaels shook John’s hand before leaving the room. John and Greg pulled chairs up to the other side of the bed and sat, and they all waited. Mycroft was near the foot of the bed, and there was enough room to sit Jackie on it. Pulling a few blocks from the diaper bag, Mycroft sat them beside Jackie on the bed. Leaning forward, she grabbed one in each hand and picked them up, banging them together.
“Very good,” Mycroft praised. Jackie let out a little giggle before a blank look washed over her face, followed by a furrowing of her small brow. “What’s the matter?” Mycroft asked. The other two men were watching him and Jackie, and Greg let out a little chuckle.
“That’s a poop face,” Greg said decisively.
“What?”
“Poop face. That little lady is pooping,” Greg said, pointing at Jackie.
A smirk lit John’s features but he remained silent.
“Ah, well regular bowel movements are good,” Mycroft nodded, trying to mask his awkwardness behind indifference and failing utterly. Jackie’s brow cleared and she leaned forward to drop a block on the bed. As she did, her face crumpled and she let out a whine.
“Time to change her,” Greg said with a chuckle. Huffing, Mycroft got a changing pad out of the diaper bag, quickly picked Jackie up and laid her on her back on the pad, pulling down the tiny jeans and unbuttoning the onesie. He took off the soiled diaper, pausing only for a moment to check its contents before folding it up and putting it beside her on the mat. He finished up efficiently, getting her back in her clothes and throwing the diaper out in the small garbage in the room. He folded the mat back up and put it back in the diaper bag after sitting Jackie back on the bed.
“You brought her into the hospital?” a soft voice came from the head of the bed.
“I wouldn’t have had to if you stopped putting yourself in harm’s way,” Mycroft retorted back. Sherlock hummed low in his throat and rested his head back against the pillows.
“How are you feeling, love?” John asked.
“I’ve been better,” Sherlock said, eyes softening as he looked at John. “Did you catch him?” Sherlock asked, looking at Lestrade.
“Yeah, right after you went down.”
“Good.” Sherlock closed his eyes again. “Can I hold her?” he asked quietly without opening his eyes.
“Of course,” Mycroft lifted Jackie gently from the bed and moved her up to his chest, careful to keep her off his stomach. Sherlock placed one hand under her bum and wrapped the other around her back, holding her securely. Leaning down, he put his nose to her hair and inhaled. He closed his eyes and exhaled as he leaned back into the pillow, his breathing quickly evening out even as his hands stay steady on Jackie.
“He’ll probably be out for another hour or so,” John murmured. They all settled in to wait.

Chapter Text

Mycroft woke, once again on the sofa, to Jackie’s piercing shriek coming through the baby monitor. They had returned to his flat the previous evening when it became apparent that Sherlock was asleep for the night. Mycroft had put Jackie to bed upon their arrival and had sat on the sofa, reading various parenting books and websites. Clearly he had fallen asleep poring over these and now he was waking with a crick in his neck.

Rolling his neck on his shoulder and wincing, Mycroft stood and went into Jackie’s bedroom. He quickly scooped her up and bounced her gently, changing her diaper on the changing table in her room. As soon as he had touched her she had quieted, a tiny scowl still on her face. Mycroft decided to keep her n her plain baby grow for now. Moving into the kitchen and efficiently preparing a bottle, Mycroft also made himself a coffee one handed, holding Jackie on his hip. Jackie sucked back her bottle, hiccupping slightly as she finished it. Mycroft took it from her before she could drop it, quickly learning from past experience. She grumbled unhappily, her face scrunching into a moue of discontent.

“Okay, okay, real food is on it’s way,” Mycroft chuckled as he placed her bottle in the sink and dug out a container of baby food from the pantry. Grabbing a baby spoon from the appropriate door, Mycroft sat at the kitchen table, putting his coffee on the table and brandishing the spoon in one hand and the container in the other. He opened the container and spooned mashed pears into Jackie’s waiting mouth. She so far hadn’t shown any fussiness towards food, for which Mycroft was eternally grateful.

They had gotten about halfway through the container when there was a knock on the door. Mycroft, confused, picked up Jackie and went to the door. Tapping the LED screen beside the door, he was greeted by the view of John Watson for the second time in two days. Behind him was a pale glowering Sherlock, looking straight into the camera. Mycroft swung the door open.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Thought I‘d pop by and give Jackie her pokes. Also, as soon as this one woke up he got on every nurses nerves, and was discharged into my care so he could get on MY nerves. He’s been in a strop since then so I thought visiting Jackie might help.” John didn’t mention that he also wanted to distract Sherlock so that he wouldn’t go gallivanting about and pull his stitches. Mycroft easily read the truth of John’s words on him and stepped aside to allow them to enter. Wordlessly he pointed Sherlock to his recently vacated chair, plopping Jackie into his lap and pointing to the half-eaten container of food. Sherlock rolled his eyes and grumbled about doing Mycroft’s job, but dutifully scooped the pears onto the spoon and into Jackie’s mouth.

“Tea?” Mycroft asked. Both men answered in the affirmative and Mycroft moved to start the kettle as John set out the needles on the table. By the time Mycroft was done making the tea, Sherlock was done feeding Jackie and she was sitting happily on his lap, waving her fists sporadically. He had one arm wrapped around her waist and the other one was waving in front of her, captivating her attention. Mycroft brought the two mugs of tea to the table and placed them in front of John and Sherlock.

“Ta,” John picked up his mug and took a sip, laying out the last needle and clapping his hands together. “Well, we may as well get this out of the way. She’s not going to be happy after these,” he warned Mycroft.

“Yes, I gathered as much,” Mycroft said drily.

“I’m going to get you to hold her on your lap,” John said, pulling another chair out for Mycroft beside the table. Mycroft took Jackie from Sherlock and sat her on his lap facing out. She gurgled happily, clapping her hands and grinning gummily at John. “We’ll keep her in her grow. We’ll be doing three jabs today, one in each arm and one in her leg.” John had slipped into his doctor voice. “I’m going to need you to hold her hands down. Wrap one arm around her and use the other to distract her?”

Mycroft looked to Sherlock. “Her teddy bear is in her room, could you grab that?”

“If I must,” Sherlock drawled, but his heart wasn’t in it. He slunk out of the room and came back quickly, teddy bear in hand. Giving it to Mycroft, Sherlock sat in his chair once more, staying out of the way. Mycroft took it in his left, snaking his right arm around Jackie and trapping her arms under his.

“Look Jackie,” Mycroft cooed. “Teddy. Yes, good girl,” he cooed, shaking the bear in front of her. Meanwhile, John circled around behind them and reached Jackie’s right arm.

“On the count of three. One,” John knelt down. “Two,” John grabbed the skin of Jackie’s arm between thumb and forefinger. “Three.” John quickly stuck the needle in, depressing the plunger and pulling out the needle. As soon as the needle was inserted, Jackie screamed a blood-curdling howl, pulling against Mycroft. Mycroft held on tighter burying his face in her hair and humming soothingly in her ear. It did nothing as Jackie tried to twist out of Mycroft’s grip. John watched Mycroft as he tightened his arms around Jackie; he also watched as Mycroft let a mask of indifference slip over his expression, going glacially cold. Worried at what that meant, he hastened to finish up.

“Next one,” John called over Jackie’s wails, pinching the skin on her left arm and getting the needle in and out of her arm as quickly as possible. “Last one,” John said, coming closer to Mycroft and Jackie.

“Wait,” Mycroft said coolly, a corner of his mask slipping as his eyes softened and he rocked Jackie back and forth. Her shrieks had turned into body-wracking sobs.

“We’re almost there. It’s best to get it over with now and then you can hold onto her for as long as you want afterwards.”

Mycroft pursed his lips as Jackie continued to sob in his arms. “Alright.”

“One, two, three,” John administered the last jab and placed the empty needle in a biohazard container his bag, taking out three small plasters and applying them to each injection point. “I’ll take that and you give her a cuddle,” John said, holding out his hand for the teddy bear. Mycroft absently handed the teddy bear to John and turned Jackie so she was facing him. As soon as her arms were free, Jackie started pushing at Mycroft’s chest with her tiny fists. “Watch for signs of swelling or flu-like symptoms like fever and vomiting and if she starts exhibiting any of them text me.” At this point John had finished packing up his bag and had put the teddy bear on the table. Looking at Sherlock, he noticed the pinched and pained expression on his paler-than-usual face. “We’re going to leave now,” John told Mycroft, who was looking detachedly at the baby in his hands, the only sign of his distress the little wrinkle between his raised eyebrows. “Sherlock, can you take my bag and hail a cab for us?”

“Whatever you are going to say to my brother, you can say in front of me. I’m not a child.”

“It’s not for your sake that I’m asking you to leave the room. Now go. Please.” Sherlock narrowed his eyes but didn’t argue as he swept to the table, scooped up John’s bag and swanned out the door. “Alright, here’s the deal,” John said over Jackie’s distress. She had stopped pushing at Mycroft and was now sobbing into his chest. “You do not go Iceman on this baby, alright? She is depending on you for emotional support and you need to teach her how to express those emotions in a healthy way and I have no doubt that you will be able to do it and do it well but you can’t go cold on her, got it?” John now had his finger about an inch from Mycroft’s face.

“Of course,” Mycroft responded, shocked at the doctor’s outburst. “I’m just not sure how to do that.”

John took his finger back. “Of course you’re not, no one really is and you didn’t have any time to prepare. That’s perfectly understandable. And you’ve got a support system. You’ve got me and your prat brother, even if he pretends otherwise, and you’ve got Greg and Anthea and Molly I’m sure. You are not alone, Mycroft Holmes, and don’t you forget it,” he finished fiercely.

“Thank you, Dr. Watson,” Mycroft said a little unevenly. John looked at him for a moment, seeing a lot more emotion than he had ever seen on Mycroft’s face. Nodding once, John turned on his heel and stalked out of the flat.

Mycroft looked down at Jackie, who had started crying louder at John’s raised voice. Mycroft bounced her up and down, standing and walking around. He shushed quietly in her ear as he paced around his kitchen. He felt hateful tears building in his eyes as he looked down at the baby who had wormed her way behind his icy barriers in a record few days. He felt ripped apart by the hurt and betrayal that had shone in Jackie’s tearful eyes as she had slammed her tiny fists against his chest. Her sobs had not stopped and had only dropped slightly in intensity and Mycroft was getting worried. She was starting to feel warm against his cheek, and he didn’t know if it was because she was crying or because she was reacting t the vaccination.

“Jackie, please stop crying,” he said gently around the lump in his throat. “Please, for me,” he stood in place, rocking and bouncing and waffling about what he should do. Sherlock had clearly been affected by Jackie’s distress and so Mycroft didn’t want to call him and John back, but he also wanted a second opinion on what to do. He remembered Lestrade’s words from the night before as he was leaving.

Lestrade stood as Mycroft finished gathering his things and stood with Jackie in his hands. “I’ll walk out with you,” he said, trailing behind Mycroft. As they left the room, Greg looked over at Mycroft. “So… a baby?”

“Yes, completely by surprise,” Mycroft reiterated. Greg nodded awkwardly for a moment.

“You know if you ever need any help… It’s just, I’ve got two of my own, as I’m sure you know, so please contact me. If you ever have questions or get overwhelmed or need a babysitter or whatever, give me a ring. Whenever.” Greg had avoided eye contact throughout his speech. They reached the doors exiting the hospital. “You can tell me to piss off too, you know.”

“Please be assured that I feel no such inclination. I would like to thank you for your offers and will not hesitate to call should I require assistance.” With that, they had parted ways for the night.

Mycroft walked to his bedroom, picking up his cellphone and choosing Gregory in his contacts. Bringing the phone up to his ear, Mycroft listened to the phone ring twice.

“Lestrade.”

“Gregory, hello. How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. How are you and Jackie?”

“Well, that’s why I’m calling. Doctor Watson administered her shots and…”

“And she’s not taking it so well. Yeah, I can hear her over the line. Have you tried your usuals for soothing her?”

“The few I have figured out I have tried, but it doesn’t seem to be working.”

“Right. I’m free right now, do you want me to come over?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Mycroft answered hesitantly.

“Of course not. I’ll be right over.” With that he hung up, not giving Mycroft the chance to go back on his decision.

Greg arrived twenty minutes later, knocking at the door. Mycroft let him in gratefully, looking lost and a little hopeless. Jackie’s crying had slowed fractionally, but now her nose was running at an alarming rate.

“Oh dear,” Greg tutted as he took in the sight of Jackie. “Have you got a bulb syringe?”

“Yes, I haven’t gotten the chance to use it, considering yesterday’s events.”

“Well, now is as good a time as any,” Greg answered. “I can take her if you want to go get it?”

“Yes, of course.” Mycroft handed Jackie to Greg, who cradled her in the crook of his arm and rocked gently, cooing at her. Her crying hiccupped for a moment as she took in the new person in front of her.

“Hello, Jackie,” Greg crooned at her, rubbing her stomach soothingly. It seemed to calm her somewhat and she let out a few more whimpers. “There you go,” he soothed. “You’re alright. Daddy will make it right as soon as he gets back.” Greg looked up and saw Mycroft in the door, looking equal parts despairing and relieved. “I’ve had ten years of practice,” Greg reassured him, looking back down at Jackie. “The first time Layla got her pokes, I thought I was the worst parent ever because I couldn’t make it better and I couldn’t protect her from the pain. And then I realized that it was normal and that I won’t be able to protect them from everything, no matter how hard I try.” Greg made eye contact with Mycroft once more and smiled gently. Mycroft felt his stomach flutter but pushed down the emotion.

“So how does one use this?” Mycroft asked, brandishing the small bulb syringe.

“Well, we should probably lay her down,” Greg moved into the living room and laid her on the sofa, Mycroft trailing behind. “Do you have a tissue? We’re going to need a tissue.”

“I’ve a handkerchief,” Mycroft said, pulling it out of his pocket.

“That will work just fine.” Greg held his had out for it. As the handkerchief and syringe passed from one hand to another, their fingers lingered. “Right. So it’s pretty easy, all you do is depress the bulb part, insert the syringe into the nostril, and then release the bulb, allowing it to fill up with mucous. Once it’s full, just squeeze the mucous onto the handkerchief.” He demonstrated as he explained, squeezing the light green mucous onto the handkerchief. “That part always grosses me out,” he admitted with a low chuckle.

“It is not very appealing,” Mycroft agreed with a low chuckle.

“You try,” Greg said, offering the syringe to Mycroft. Mycroft took it, switching places with Greg. He put a hand soothingly on Jackie’s stomach and gently inserted the syringe, allowing it to fill with mucous and then emptying it onto the handkerchief. “Good,” Greg praised. “And it looks like she’s starting to calm down.” It was true; Jackie was gazing at them both unblinkingly but had stopped crying.

“Yes, I think she’s starting to feel better now, thankfully.” Mycroft suctioned each nostril again before picking her up and holding her close. “Thank you for helping,” Mycroft said. “Can I get you some tea?”

“I would love one. Can I hold her while you make it?”

“Yes, of course.” Mycroft handed Jackie once more to Greg, who took her to the kitchen table and sat on the chair that had earlier been occupied by Sherlock. He picked up the teddy bear and held it in front of Jackie, bopping it’s nose against hers and making her giggle. Greg and Mycroft both smiled at her as her face lit up.

“Thank you,” Greg said as Mycroft placed a mug of tea in front of him.

“It’s I who should be thanking you,” Mycroft said.

“You had it, you just needed someone to tell you that you had it,” Greg said, bouncing Jackie on his knee as he handed her the bear and took a sip of his drink.

They drank their tea and chatted easily as Greg bounced Jackie on his knee, and when he was done he handed her back to Mycroft and made his way towards the door. “You be good for daddy now,” he said as he exited. “Don’t give him too much trouble.” Then he smiled at Mycroft. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes, I have no doubt I’ll have more questions,” Mycroft held the door open as Greg waited for the elevator.

“And I look forward to answering them.” The elevator had arrived and Greg got on. “Bye,” he called as the doors started closing.

“Goodbye.”

Chapter Text

It was a few days later that Mycroft and Jackie were lounging on the sofa after a productive morning of eating, playing and eating some more. Jackie was cradled carefully in Mycroft’s lap, playing happily with a ring of plastic keys, teddy sat faithfully at her side. Mycroft occasionally bounced his knees, jangling the keys with the hand not holding Jackie in place.
Mycroft was starting to think about preparing a lunch for Jackie when an appalling smell hit his nose, prompting him to wrinkle it and lift Jackie quickly off his lap.
“Diaper change,” he proclaimed, moving into her bedroom to the changing table there. Quickly Mycroft unsnapped her onesie, opening the nappy on auto-pilot. He glanced quickly at the nappy, stopping when he noticed the rosy colour found within. Mycroft’s mind stuttered momentarily and, without giving it a second thought, Mycroft was pulling out his mobile and choosing Gregory’s number in his contacts. Putting the phone up to his ear, he waited impatiently while Jackie started to fuss, the air on her bare bottom uncomfortable. The line rang three times before clicking through.
“Lestrade.”
Hearing Gregory’s voice snapped Mycroft out of his panicked daze. He practically ran the whole country for God’s sake, but every time Jackie so much as bumped herself he panicked.
“Hello?” Gregory’s voice came down the line sounding annoyed.
“Gregory, hello, you’re busy, I’m sorry for disturbing you.” Mycroft went to disconnect the phone but was stopped by Gregory’s voice.
“What? No, I’m not busy, why would you say that?”
“The tone of your voice implied that you were busy.”
“No, there was just a strange bloke breathing down the phone, it was starting to get a little weird,” he answered, smile evident in his tone. “So, what’s up?”
“I was changing Jackie and she had defecated and-“
“What colour?”
Mycroft was taken aback by the quick response. “Um, pink?”
“What kind of pink?”
“I don’t know, rosy pink?”
“Definitely not red though, right?”
Mycroft took a moment to examine the contents of the nappy. “I wouldn’t say so, no.”
“And not like a raspberry colour?”
“How many different shades of pink can one baby produce?” Mycroft asked, exasperated.
“You would be surprised.” Greg paused. “Do you want me to come over?”
“Oh, I’m sure you don’t have time,” Mycroft insisted.
“Of course I do, I just got off work.”
“It’s practically noon and you just got off work? You must be exhausted.”
“No more than usual,” Greg insisted. “As long as you’ve got tea and maybe a little something to throw down my throat, I’ll be good to go. I was just going to sit on my sofa and watch the match anyway, may as well be a little more social.”
“I’m not sure I would qualify as ‘social’, but I do have tea and food.”
“Then I’ll be over in fifteen.”

True to his word, Gregory showed up fifteen minutes later. Mycroft had changed Jackie’s nappy and put her onesie back on, but had kept the other nappy.
“Hello, you two,” Greg greeted as Mycroft let him into the apartment.
“Hello, Gregory. Here, look a this.” Mycroft unceremoniously shoved the soiled nappy into Gregory’s hands.
“Can’t a man get a little caffeine in him first?” he asked with a chuckle, obediently opening the nappy and peering inside.
“Of course, my apologies.” Mycroft moved into the kitchen, Greg behind him; Mycroft removed a teabag from a mug that had been steeping on the counter.
“Yeah, this is nothing to worry about,” Greg confirmed as Mycroft set the mug of tea before him. Handing the nappy back to Mycroft he continued, “has she eaten anything like beets, cranberries, tomatoes, anything like that?”
“She had tomatoes last night,” Mycroft confirmed, relieved.
“There you go, then.” He paused for a moment. “Although you do know that you can call John if you’re ever concerned? Or do a quick internet search? Not that I’m not pleased that you asked me, because I really am, and I love getting to see you and Jackie on a regular basis.”
“Yes, thank you, “ Mycroft said, sitting across from Greg at the table and sitting Jackie on it. “I did tell you that you needn’t come of you were busy,” Mycroft reminded him coolly.
“I know, I was only teasing,” Greg said, a twinkle in his eye as he took a sip of his tea.
“Right,” Mycroft responded, looking at Jackie to avoid eye contact. Taking her hands in his, he bounced them up and down before laying a kiss on each.
Suddenly an insistent electronic beeping permeated throughout the kitchen. Greg furrowed his brow in confusion, looking around.
“Can you watch her for a moment?” Mycroft asked, dumping Jackie in Greg’s lap without waiting for an answer and briskly walking to the front door.
“I wonder what’s going on,” Greg said softly to Jackie in a silly voice, keeping her entertained. She chortled in response.
“Shit!” Greg heard from the other room.
“Oy!” Greg covered Jackie’s ears. “Don’t want little ears hearing those words,” he addressed her.
Mycroft came rushing into the kitchen. “We have to go right now,” he said, pausing in the doorway before rushing through to the sitting room. Greg stood and followed Mycroft through to the other room.
“What?”
“There are people who have broken through my security. I believe they may be the same people that I rescued Jackie from. I’ve contacted my security team, there will be a car for us in short order. I’m sorry Gregory but if you want to live you’ll have to come with us.” Throughout this, Mycroft had been dashing around the sitting room, scooping up toys and freshly laundered clothes and throwing them into the diaper bag he had grabbed from the end of the sofa.
“Okay,” Greg said, taking it in stride. “I’ll put her in a coat and clothes, you grab bottles and food enough for her and anything else you need to bring with you.”
“Thank you,” Mycroft ran back into the kitchen as Greg made his way into Jackie’s room.
“Alright, Little Miss. Let’s see here, jeans and a jumper I think. Ah, here we go.” Greg found the appropriate pieces of clothing in her wardrobe and pulled them on Jackie after making a quick nappy check. Greg grabbed a small rain jacket and put it on Jackie, just in case it started to rain. Moving back into the sitting room, Greg watched Mycroft slip a laptop and gun into the diaper bag. A loud bang reverberated through the room, followed shortly by another. They were trying to break down the door.
“Got everything?”
“I believe so,” Mycroft said, pulling out his phone. “And the car has arrived just in time.” Mycroft led the way to his room and, pushing a bookcase aside, revealed a hidden door.
“Well that’s cool,” Greg chimed in, tucking Jackie safely against himself as the bookcase slid closed behind him. Through the bookshelf, he heard the front door splinter under the weight of a battering ram. Swearing softly, he picked up his pace as he followed Mycroft down a stairwell and to a waiting car at the back of the building.
“Safehouse number 3,” Mycroft told the driver after they were both securely inside.
“Yes sir,” she said, pulling smoothly into traffic. She weaved the car deftly between the others, getting them out of London in record time. Greg and Mycroft rode in silence as they watched the city peter out around them, Greg quietly handing over Jackie to Mycroft once they both had settled.
“So, is there anything else you can tell me?” Greg asked when the silence had become unbearably heavy.
“I’m not sure what those people want from me,” Mycroft admitted softly. “But I will be working non-stop with my people to figure it out.”
“What kind of people are they?”
“Science men, or so I thought.”
“You thought? Where exactly did you find her, again?”
“The situation that Jackie was found in is unfortunately classified.”
Greg sighed a full body sigh. “I hate classified.” He thought a moment. “Could they be hired men?”
“It’s possible,” Mycroft allowed, frowning at his lack of knowledge. Mycroft was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of Jackie’s stomach rumbling. “Lunch,” Mycroft stated, handing her to Greg in order to fish out the spoon and container of mashed peas he had brought along. He let Greg hold onto her as he spooned the green mush into her mouth. Jackie ate the entire container and was handed a digestive cookie to finish off, which she munched and drooled on happily. She fell asleep soon after in Greg’s arms and both men remained quiet until they reached their destination.

They pulled up a little over an hour later to a small house surrounded by trees and not much else. Mycroft got out, making sure to grab the diaper bag on his way out.
“Thank you, Emily, that will be all for today,” Mycroft said to their driver.
“Yes, sir.” The car pulled away, leaving the two men and an alert baby to climb the front steps.
“Unfortunately, I did not have time to warn the cleaners of our arrival. They come in once a week to maintain the house,” Mycroft told Greg, “but we will have to wait until tomorrow for the beds to be made and the rooms to be aired.”
“Nonsense, you’ve got the linens in the house, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well then we can make the beds and open the shutters. Nothing to it, and we’ve got a whole afternoon to fill.”
Mycroft looked skeptical for a moment. “I will be working with my staff via phone for most of the afternoon.”
“Something for me and Jackie to do all afternoon, then,” Greg corrected with a smile.
“You don’t mind watching her?”
“Not at all.” Greg bounced Jackie in his arms. “Shall we go in?” Mycroft dug out a keyring, unlocking the door and turning on the light. The light revealed a rustic one-floor cabin, equipped with modern electrics, a television in the sitting room visible from the front entrance and comfortable looking furniture.
“It’s small, but it is a safe house,” Mycroft said, taking off his coat and hanging it in the small closet by the door.
“It’s really not that small,” Greg said as he handed Jackie to Mycroft so he could remove his own coat. “Anything to eat in the house?”
“There are always non-perishables stored in these houses, and we will go into town tomorrow to pick up groceries.”
“Someone just tried to kill you. Shouldn’t you be laying low for the next couple of days?”
“Technically we don’t know if they were trying to kill me or kidnap me, and by extension, you. But no, it is better that my people do not come to our location; it lessens the chance of them being followed out of town and to the safehouse. The village is perfectly safe.”
“Do you own it or something?” Greg asked suspiciously.
“Don’t be absurd. Nobody in the village knows who I am. Tomorrow, we will go into town posing as a couple on vacation stocking up their cabin for the week.”
“We’re going to pretend to be a couple?” Greg asked. He pointedly ignored the small flurry of butterflies that seemed to have taken residence in his stomach.
“Yes, it is the best way to go unnoticed.” Although Mycroft could think of several different ways they could go into town without pretending to be a couple, Mycroft chose not to mention them. It was easier this way, he told himself.
“Alright, well I’m hungry, so let’s see what we can scrounge up.” Greg started moving into the house. “Kitchen is…?” He looked back at Mycroft. Silently, Mycroft pointed left. Greg followed his finger and wandered into a surprisingly modern kitchen.
“This I can work with,” he said appreciatively. Opening the pantry, he noted shelves filled with crackers and canned food and drink. “Beans to eat, I think.” He pulled a can out of the pantry and, after a moment of searching, found a saucepan to dump the contents in. He put the saucepan on one of the burners and leaned on the counter beside the stove, arms crossed as he took in the sight of Mycroft who had followed Greg into the kitchen.
“Set the table?” Greg asked. Wordlessly Mycroft put Jackie on the floor and set about digging out two plates and cutlery. When the beans were done, Greg divided them evenly between the two plates and sat at the table. Mycroft sat across from him, picking at his beans and eating a couple at a time. Although they weren’t great, they were filling, and that was all that mattered. Jackie tried to make a break for it a few times, but Mycroft was quick enough to catch her before she could crawl out of the kitchen.
When they were done, Greg took both their dishes quickly washed them while Mycroft laid a changing mat on the table and changed Jackie’s nappy.
“Anything suspicious in there?” Greg asked with a small smirk.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, thankfully,” Mycroft said, putting the new nappy on. Just as he was finishing, his mobile rang. Fishing it out of his pocket, Mycroft glanced at the screen. “Duty calls,” he said by way of explanation. “The linens are in the closet at the end of the hall, and I will be in the study. It is the first door on the right. I do have to ask that you avoid entering the room unless it is a matter of emergency. I will hopefully be out in time for supper.” He didn’t bother giving instructions on how to care for Jackie; in the interactions he had seen, Gregory was more than capable of handling her.
“Great, go save the world,” Greg said with a smile, scooping Jackie off the floor and holding her out towards Mycroft. “Say goodbye to Daddy.”
“I’ll just be in the next room,” Mycroft said.
“Even so, kiss your daughter.” Mycroft, realizing resistance was futile, leaned in to kiss Jackie. “Have fun, you two,” he said, leaning back and smiling at Greg as he answered his phone. “Holmes,” he said into the phone, going into the study and closing the door.
“Well, looks like it’s just you and me, kiddo,” Greg said, looking at Jackie in his arms. “Let’s make the beds first, shall we?”
Greg spent the next few hours making the beds, opening the shutters and keeping Jackie entertained. Because she had already had a nap in the car, she was wide-eyed and alert as she watched Greg bustle happily around the house. Greg always found he was happier when he had something to do.
“What now?” he asked Jackie. “Shall we see what Daddy brought you to play with?” Jackie clapped her hands, smiling. Moving into the sitting room, Greg opened the diaper bag and pulled out blocks, teddy and a small plastic tea set that played music when different buttons were pressed. Jackie immediately reached for the blocks, picking one up and putting it on the ground, picking up another and lining it up with the first. “Very good,” Greg praised, clapping his hands. Jackie smiled and clapped her hands in return. Picking up both blocks, she slapped them together, producing a sharp sound. She laughed maniacally, doing it a couple more times. Greg chuckled back, piling a few blocks one on top of the other. Then, with a glee reserved for childish pleasure, he knocked them down. Jackie looked shocked and a little scandalized until Greg piled a few more blocks closer to her. Carefully, she reached out and pushed them, toppling the tower over. Giggling, she clapped her hands together once more, Greg joining in.
“What is all the noise out here?” Mycroft asked as he entered the room, the smile on his face softening his words. “It sounds like there is positively too much giggling.”
“Just playing with blocks,” Greg said. “We’ve discovered knocking down blocks. Look!” Greg quickly piled blocks in front of Jackie and, without hesitating, she reached over and knocked them down. She proceeded to laugh madly, prompting Greg and Mycroft to join in.
“I see what you mean,” Mycroft conceded.
“Done for the day?” Greg asked, craning his neck to look at Mycroft still in the doorway.
“For now, at any rate.”
“Dinner?” Greg asked.
“If you’re hungry. I should feed Jackie, at any rate.”
“You’re just like your brother, aren’t you?” Greg asked.
Mycroft drew himself up. “I am not.”
“Whoa, there I didn’t mean to offend. I just meant he doesn’t eat much either.”
“I eat when I need to,” Mycroft told him distantly.
“Alright, well I saw some canned pasta in there and I’ll make enough for both of us.”
“Very well,” Mycroft sat down cross-legged beside Greg, who swiftly stood and moved to the kitchen. As he dug out the can of pasta, he heard thrilled shrieks come from the other room. After he had emptied it into a saucepan and put it on the burner, he went to the sitting room and watched from the doorway as Mycroft put the finishing touches on an elaborate block tower. Greg dug out his phone and managed to snap a picture of the tower and it’s imminent destruction. He also managed to catch Mycroft as he turned towards the door to address Gregory.
“Enjoying the view?”
“Very much so.” Greg smiled at Mycroft as e put his mobile away. “I felt left out of the fun.”
“You’re always welcome to join in,” Mycroft told him, gesturing to the floor beside him.
“I’ve got to keep an eye on the stove,” Greg said, motioning to the kitchen. They looked at each other for a few moments, tension steadily building. Then, with a small quirk of his lips, Greg turned and went back to the kitchen.
“Da!” Jackie shrieked, throwing a block towards Mycroft and ripping him out of his thoughts.
“What did you say?” Mycroft asked softly.
“Da! Da!” Jackie picked up two blocks and banged them together, grinning the entire time. Greg’s head poked back around the doorframe.
“Did she just say what I thought she said?” he asked.
“Again,” Mycroft ordered, pulling out his phone.
“Da! Da! Da!” Jackie happily slapped two blocks together as she repeated the word over and over again into the camera on Mycroft’ mobile.
“What a charmer,” Greg commented with a chuckle and a shake of his head as he moved back into the kitchen to take the pasta off the burner. Dumping it into two bowls, he brought them both out into the sitting room and placed one beside Mycroft on the floor, sitting down beside the bowl. Both men were now facing Jackie as she dropped the blocks in favour of the tea set.
“Better eat up before she gets hungry,” Greg said, looking pointedly at the bowl of pasta between them.
“Indeed.” Scooping up the bowl, Mycroft spooned some of the pasta into his mouth as he watched Jackie pick up one stackable teacup and put it in the other. Then, she reached over to the small cake and pressed the button on top, prompting it to play a garish song.
“Oh, that won’t get annoying at all,” Greg said with a wide smile.
“It was one of the recommended developmental toys. How could I resist?”
“How indeed?” They continued to eat in silence, watching Jackie occupy herself. When they had both finished, Greg scooped up their bowls and washed them in the kitchen while Mycroft fed Jackie in the sitting room.
Greg moved to the sitting room when he was done to find a drowsy Jackie propped on Mycroft’s chest, head supported in his large hand.
“Someone’s sleepy,” Greg commented with a smile.
“It is getting to be quite late,” Mycroft commented. “For her, at any rate.”
“Do you want to put her down?”
“Yes, I think I’ll put her in my bed.”
“Okay. You know how to make a wall of pillows?”
“I do, but if you would like to accompany us, I would not be opposed.”
They worked efficiently as a team, getting Jackie changed and ready for bed and set up with pillows bracketing her on either side, preventing her from rolling off. Mycroft set up the baby monitor that he had thought to throw in the diaper bag. Taking one of the pair, both men moved into the sitting room and took up residence in the two armchairs by the fire.
“Scotch?” Mycroft asked, moving to a sideboard and revealing a hidden liquor cabinet.
“Of course,” Greg said, raising one eyebrow in silent question.
“It doesn’t go bad,” Mycroft said by way of explanation.
“Fair enough.”
Mycroft poured two fingers for each of them and sat in his chair, handing one glass to Gregory.
“So, was that the first word she said?” Greg asked after they had both taken a sip.
“She said ‘no’ when we went shopping, and she’s constantly babbling,” Mycroft said.
“But still, that’s exciting.”
“Yes,” Mycroft contemplated his scotch for a moment before knocking it back and getting up to pour himself another. “More?”
“Sure,” Greg knocked his back, watching Mycroft bring the whole bottle over and place it between them.
After both their drinks had been refreshed, Mycroft started speaking.
“I’m not sure what drew me to her,” he admitted, staring determinedly into his glass. “Why I didn’t just hand her off to CPS, or leave her there for someone else to find.”
“Because you’re a compassionate human being,” Greg supplied.
“Perhaps. I saw a little bit of Sherlock in her. It’s been years since he was that small, obviously, but it’s in the eyes. They’ve got the same eyes.”
“She’s not his, though, right?” Greg was pretty certain, but thought he would double check.
“No, no, she’s an orphan, both parents dead in a plane crash. Maybe that’s what I saw in her. I don’t know. But now she’s in danger. Because of me she is in more danger than she was in that stupid lab. I shouldn’t keep her, but I will never be able to give her up to a safer life. How selfish.” He was quiet for a moment as he took a long sip from his glass and topped it up. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly.
“What for?”
“For putting you in danger. For putting her in danger. I should never have called you.”
“Bullshit.”
Mycroft was momentarily taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”
“Sure, maybe because you contacted me today I was put in danger but that doesn’t mean I’m not in danger every day. I track down killers with your loon of a brother. That puts me in danger.”
“But I’ve put you in more danger.”
“And consequently protected me.”
“You have children.”
“Who are in no more danger than they ever are. And frankly, who I see so rarely they’re really not in any danger.” His ex-wife had gotten custody in the divorce and he got them every weekend and on holidays. “I won’t be able to take them this weekend. And I won’t be at my job.”
“Already all taken care of,” Mycroft waved his hand in Greg’s direction.
“Well that’s handy then.” Greg poured himself another. “You’re good for her, you know?” When Mycroft didn’t answer, he continued. “Although this was sort of thrust upon you, you’ll make a wonderful father. You already are, and it’s only been a few days. Trust e, you are the best thing that could have happened to that baby.” Mycroft still didn’t answer, but his eyes got embarrassingly misty and he nodded. “So how was work this afternoon?” Greg asked to clear the tension, noticing his tongue getting a little heavier with the drink.
“Tedious, although we have gotten a little closer to finding out who attacked us. Nothing I can divulge.”
“Of course not. How long we gonna have to stay here?” Greg felt the world start to spin as he rested his head back against the chair.
“Probably another few days, a week at most.”
“Great. It will be like a holiday Jus’ you, me, and a baby. Pretending to be a family.”
Mycroft hummed in agreement. They both sat silent for a few seconds before simultaneously downing their glasses.
“Well, I’m off to bed,” Greg said, standing and putting his hand unsteadily on Mycroft’s shoulder. “Get some rest, okay?”
“Yes, Gregory.” Mycroft placed his hand on top of Greg’s for a moment before letting go. The last thing he noticed before falling asleep was Gregory’s slightly unsteady swagger as he left the room.

Chapter Text

This time it wasn’t a baby crying that woke Mycroft but the soft murmur of a male voice coming from the baby monitor. Clearing the sleep from his eyes, Mycroft cursed the fact that he had slept yet another night on a sofa. He moved stiffly to Jackie’s room, pausing in the doorway to take in the sight before him. Gregory was at Jackie’s crib and had her in his arms, slowly rocking her back and forth as he murmured gently to her.
“Good morning, sleepy,” Greg said when he turned and noticed Mycroft watching him. “I heard her crying and figured it would be alright if I came in and took care of her.”
“Yes, of course,” Mycroft said, crossing to them. “Did you have a good sleep?”
“Better than yours, I imagine. You spent the night on the sofa, didn’t you?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Mycroft admitted somewhat reluctantly. “Does she need a change?” he asked, switching the subject.
“Yeah, I got here seconds before you did, I haven’t had the time to change her yet.” Greg moved towards the changing table. Mycroft watched as Greg laid Jackie down on the table and unsnapped her baby-gro, conflict roiling inside him. He was still protective of Jackie but knew that Gregory was one of the few people he could trust with her.
“Well, I’ll go prepare breakfast while you do that, shall I?” Mycroft said.
“That would be great, thanks!” Greg said, smiling at Mycroft. He watched Greg for a moment more before moving into the kitchen. He turned the coffee maker on and set four pieces of toast in the toaster. Leaning against the counter, Mycroft let himself drift into his thoughts, reflecting over the rather tumultuous past couple days. If someone had asked him a week ago where he thought he would be today, he would have easily answered almost every country in the world, but never would he have thought he would be in a safe house with a baby and Gregory Lestrade.
The man in question walked in just as the coffee maker was finishing, carrying Jackie on one hip.
“Just in time,” Mycroft said, moving to the coffee maker.
“I’ll do that,” Greg said, also moving towards the coffee maker. “You take this,” he handed Jackie over to Mycroft, “have a bit of a cuddle since I got to first, and I’ll finish making breakfast.”
“Oh- I don’t… cuddle,” Mycroft said, pulling Jackie towards his chest.
“Sure,” Greg said slyly, watching as Mycroft did exactly that. He poured their coffee, buttered his slices of toast and spread jam on Mycroft’s. Dropping the mugs and plates in front of their chairs, Greg sat at the table. Mycroft joined him there, Jackie on his lap. Keeping her in the circle of his arms, Mycroft ripped a bite-sized piece of toast from one slice and handed it to Jackie, who stuck it happily in her mouth.
“So, we’re going in to town today?” Greg asked around a bite of toast.
“Yes, quickly to pick up groceries. And to show our faces; I’ve used the house as a safe house before, it’s good let the locals know we’ll be staying here for the forseeable future.”
“Do they know that it’s a safe house?”
“No, of course not, they think I’m a British ambassador stationed in Canada who vacations here when my schedule allows.”
Greg let out a bark of laughter. “An ambassador? And they buy that?”
“Yes, well, it’s not as if I come here often.” Mycroft focused on Jackie, feeding her another piece of the toast.
“I would hope not.” Greg paused for a moment. “And we’re… pretending to be a couple?”
“Yes.”
“Are we going to get our story straight, then?”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Mycroft said.
“Well, we’re pretending to be a couple. We need to have a story. Are we married? Engaged? Just partners? How did we meet? Where’s our favourite place to go on dates? Whose is she?” Greg continued, pointing at Jackie, “Do we raise her together? When did we get her? Or was she yours and now we’re in a relationship and maybe I’ll help raise her one day but for now we’re seeing where it will take us?” That last scenario hit Greg too close to home. He could easily see himself integrating himself into Mycroft’s life and eventually raise Jackie alongside him.
Mycroft was embarrassed, loathe as he was to admit it even to himself. He had obviously let the situation get to him, and he wasn’t thinking straight.
“Of course, you’re right,” he said, still not making eye contact with Greg. “I’m sorry I did not think of that.”
“No, don’t apologize!” Greg hastened to say. “It’s just something we should iron out before we go out in public.” Mycroft nodded as he gave Jackie the last of one piece of toast. “So how about we stick close to the truth? We say that you adopted her because you wanted a family, and then we met, and this is our first vacation together.”
“And how did we meet?” Mycroft asked.
“You were in London on business and we met when you were taking Jackie to the same park I took my kids to. You and I hit it off from there.”
“And you are a divorced police officer with three kids you only see on weekends and holidays?”
“Yeah, may as well not change my backstory. Keep things simple, and all that.”
“Right. And you also mentioned our favourite place to go on dates?”
“Yeah, you know, couples have favourite spots to go that are usually significant in some way.”
“Then shall we make it the park we first fictionally met?”
“Sure. Where was our first date?”
“The park?”
“The park can’t be your answer for everything,” Greg said, chuckling. “How about a restaurant? What’s your favourite restaurant to take dates to?”
Mycroft, who had been avoiding eye contact throughout most of the conversation, made an extra effort to not look at Greg.
“I do not date,” he stated factually.
“Okay then, what’s your favourite restaurant in genral?” Greg asked, ignoring Mycroft’s embarrassment.
“There is a small Italian place called Ben Nutriti that does a wonderful tiramisu.”
“Sounds great. That’s where we’ll say we had our first date, then,” Greg said. “And if we get asked anything that didn’t come up, leave the answers to me?”
Mycroft paused for a moment before conceding. “That may be best. My mind, much as I hate to admit it, is apparently not quite working at it’s normal capacity.”
“Understandably,” Greg said. “You’re under a lot of pressure, even more so now that you have another life to think about.”
Another two lives, Mycroft thought but didn’t say it out loud.
“Quite. Well, shall we go get ready?” Mycroft asked, aiming the question at both Jackie and Lestrade.
“Yeah, I’m going to grab a quick shower and then I’ll be good to go,” Greg answered.
“I will also have a shower, and dress Jackie for the day.”
“Great, let me know if you need any help with getting Jackie ready.”
“Of course,” Mycroft said, putting his plate in the sink and whisking himself and Jackie out towards their room.

*******

Greg was just coming out of his room when he spotted Mycroft through the partially ajar door of his own room. The man had his shirt unbuttoned and was standing beside the bed, leaning over Jackie as he got her dressed. Greg, throwing all caution to the wind, crossed the hall to Mycroft’s room and nudged the door all the way open, leaning against the doorframe.
“Need any help?” Greg asked as he crossed his arms.
“Yes, actually if you wouldn’t mind. Can you finish dressing her while I finish getting dressed?”
“Of course,” Greg said, forcing his eyes from the thin strip of skin he could see peeking from Mycroft’s shirt. As Mycroft shifted away from the bed Greg squeezed past, narrowly avoiding dragging his front against Mycroft’s. Looking away, Greg focused on Jackie, picking up the dress that was laid out beside her and slipping it on.
“Jumper or no jumper?” Greg called to Mycroft, who had retreated back into his bathroom.
“It looks like it will be sunny, but I will pack one in the diaper bag just in case.”
“Good thinking,” Greg said, scooping Jackie off the bed and holding her close. “She really is beautiful,” he said, brushing a bit of hair off her forehead.
“I can take no credit for that,” Mycroft said as he emerged from the bathroom, straightening his tie.
“No tie,” Greg said immediately, shaking his head.
“What?”
“No tie. We’re on vacation,” Greg said with a quirked lip and a raised brow.
“I- must I?” Mycroft closed his hand around the knot of his tie protectively.
“Yes. Right Jackie?” Greg asked the baby in his arms.
“Rie!” Jackie said, smiling widely at Mycroft.
“So it has been decreed,” Greg said grandly, using his free hand to bat Mycroft’s hand away from the knot of his tie.
“This teaming up against me is unappreciated,” Mycroft said as he loosened his tie.
“Yeah but together we are a force so cute even you can’t resist.”
Mycroft didn’t dignify that with a response but instead finished loosening his tie. He stored it over the back of the chair in the room. “Better?” he asked.
“Much,” Greg said. “Just one more thing.” He reached forward, unbuttoning the first two buttons of Mycroft’s shirt. Mycroft jerked back a little initially and then held still, gulping when Greg’s fingers lingered at his throat.
“Shall we?” Mycroft said when Greg lowered his hand.
Greg cleared his throat. “Yeah.” He turned away from Mycroft and walked to the front door. “Who’s driving?”
“I will,” Mycroft said. They got out to the car, a non-descript black four-door, and Mycroft slung the diaper bag into the back before getting in on the driver’s side. Greg sat in the passenger’s side, Jackie firmly on his lap.
“You should probably pick her up a car seat, hey?”
“Yes, I believe there is a store in town that will provide what we need,” Mycroft said. “We will stop there first, and then pick up groceries before going home.”
“Maybe we can stop to eat, too,” Greg said.
“We just ate,” Mycroft said incredulously. “How can you already be thinking about food?”
“Just thinking ahead,” Greg said. They spent the rest of the ride watching the countryside slowly disappear to reveal a small town. It was slightly larger than most of the tourist towns that Greg had seen, big enough to have a chain-store grocers, but not much else. Jackie sat quietly in Greg’s lap, watching the trees flash by beside them. Mycroft navigated what seemed to be familiar streets, parking and exiting the vehicle. Greg followed suit, fishing the diaper bag out of the back seat and slinging it on his shoulder.
“Your turn to take her,” Greg said, handing Jackie off to Mycroft. “You may want to pick up some sort of strap-on carrier as well.”
“Yes, I had thought of that. ”Mycroft was walking towards a store called ‘Lots and Lots For Babies and Tots’.
“I love the name,” Greg said, grinning.
“Yes, well, family run businesses tend to have more original names,” Mycroft said. “Most of the stores in this town are local, family-owned stores. It’s a tourist attraction in the summer months but it dies down in the winter.”
“The more you know,” Greg said as they entered the store, the smell of baby powder and lightly scented products thick in the air.
“Hello there!” a perky, middle aged woman called from the register. She had grey-blonde hair done up in a high tower and light wrinkle lines around her eyes and mouth. “Can I help you gentlemen?”
“Yes! We’re looking for a car seat and a front-carrier,” Greg said, smiling charmingly.
“Ah, newly adopted?” she asked, smiling knowingly at them.
“No, actually, um Mycroft’s had her for about six months now?”
“Yes,” Mycroft nodded. Greg had told him to go along with whatever he said, and it was the easiest option in Mycroft’s opinion.
“But he did adopt her, you’re right on that front. We just got so excited about our first vacation together that we forgot to take her car seat on the plane with us,” Greg explained.
“Oh? And where are you two from?”
“London, originally, but Mycroft here is the British ambassador in Canada. He had a little bit of work to finish up there before we could go on vacation and since I’ve never been to Canada, I decided to tag along. We came straight from there. We’ve been flying around a lot.” Greg chuckled.
“Oh wow, how exciting! And you rented a car to get around?”
“Exactly,” Greg said, still smiling disarmingly.
“Very smart!” she said. “Well, let me show you the models we have here.” She circled out from behind the counter and bustled down an aisle, not looking back to see if the two men would follow. They did, Greg taking the lead.
“So how old is she?” the woman asked conversationally.
“About thirteen months,” Mycroft answered; these questions, he could field easily.
“Well, she’s gorgeous,” the woman continued, bending down so she was level with Jackie and cooing and waving at her. “What’s her name?”
“Jackie,” Mycroft said. “Short for Jaclynn.”
“Hello Jackie,” she said, and Jackie waved tentatively back. “Oh, isn’t she just precious.” The woman smiled at Mycroft who smiled thinly back.
“I’m very proud of her,” is all he said.
“I’m sure you are.” She turned back towards the shelves. “So we’ve got these three models, I would recommend this one because it is adjustable and can be turned into a booster car seat as she gets older.” She was pointing at a vibrant red and black model that was mid-sized compared to the others.
“Yes, I believe that one will do nicely. We’ll take one of those,” Mycroft said. “And carriers?”
“Right over this way,” she said, bustling down the next aisle. “Now for these, I would suggest this one because it can be converted into a front carrier or a back carrier.”
“Yes, we’ll take that one as well. Anything else you can think of, Gregory?”
“Not really,” Greg said, looking around. He noticed Jackie staring at a stuffed dog in a police outfit. He broke out into a grin. Mycroft narrowed his eyes at the mischievous glint in Greg’s eye. Following his gaze, Mycroft noticed where he was looking, huffed and rolled his eyes.
“Oh my god. Very well, we’ll take the dog in the police uniform as well.”
“Good choice, that one is quite cute,” the saleswoman said. “I’ll just ring these up for you, shall I?”
“Yes, please,” Mycroft said. Mycroft handed over his credit card and the transaction was completed quickly.
“There you go,” the woman said, handing over the items.
“Thank you,” Greg said, taking the carrier and car seat as Mycroft reached for the dog. “Have a good day.”
“You as well!”
They walked out of the store and back to the car. When they got there, Greg loaded the carrier and car seat into the back of the car. “Let’s try her out in this, shall we?” Greg asked Mycroft.
“Yes, good idea.” He handed Jackie to Greg, who situated her in the car seat. Then, he took the proffered dog from Mycroft and tucked it in beside Jackie. “There we go, all snug,” he said. “Time to get groceries.” He and Mycroft got into the front and Mycroft drove the couple blocks to the grocery store. When they got out, Greg put the carrier on and Mycroft helped slide Jackie into it.
“You push the cart and I’ll pick all the food?” Greg teased.
“Very funny, Gregory.”
They did all the aisles, Jackie drawing attention from most of the females and some of the males in the store. This meant that Gregory was constantly stopping to make conversation with strangers while Mycroft would alternately look at food on the shelves or stand by the cart, watching Gregory field questions like a pro. It took them about three times as long to get through the grocery store because of it, but Mycroft couldn’t bring himself to care.
As they were walking out, Jackie kicked her legs and started to fuss, her face scrunching up.
“We’re hungry,” Greg said, making puppy-dog eyes at Mycroft. “Can we stop for lunch?”
“Of course,” Mycroft sighed, resigning himself to being wrapped around the combined finger of Greg and Jackie. “There’s a restaurant a few doors down. We will drop the groceries at the car and eat there.”
“Yay!” Greg said, grabbing Jackie’s hands and waving them in the air. This made Jackie fussier and she started to whine. “Okay, okay, Little Miss Grumpy, we’re on our way there.” Greg rubbed her stomach through the carrier. “Just hold on.”
By the time they got to the restaurant, Jackie was well on her way to a fit. Mycroft pulled a digestive cookie out of the diaper bag and gave it to Jackie, who whined a little more before sticking it in her mouth, glaring at Mycroft to let him know she was unimpressed.
“For three, please,” Greg said to the hostess.
“Right this way,” she took them to a table against the wall.
“Thank you,” Greg said, smiling. The hostess brought over a high chair for Jackie, which Greg was grateful for. Taking her out of the carrier, Greg set Jackie in the high chair. She tapped happily on the table part, the remnants of her digestive being smeared over the top.
Mycroft pulled the menu towards himself, scanning quickly down it. There wasn’t much to choose from- there was one salad, four sandwiches, two soups, three pasta dishes and chicken fingers to choose from.
“Can I get you drinks?” The waitress, a young girl with braces, pulled up to their table.
“Yes, and I believe we’re ready to order,” Mycroft said. “I will have a tea and the salad.”
“And I’ll have a coke and the burger.” They handed their menus to the waitress.
“Anything for her?” The waitress asked, pointing at Jackie.
“No thank you, I’ve got juice and food for her.”
“How old is she?” the waitress asked.
“Just over thirteen months,” Mycroft said mechanically, reaching for the diaper bag to get the juice and food out.
“And what brings you to our town?” she asked genially.
“We’re on vacation here,” Greg said, taking over as Mycroft found the bottle of juice and handed it to Jackie.
“Oh, fun! And you two are… together?”
“Yup, our first vacation,” Greg said, reaching over and grabbing Mycroft’s hand and interrupting his search for baby food. Mycroft tensed minutely before relaxing, looking at Gregory who was looking at the waitress.
“Cute!” she squealed. “I’ll have your drinks right out.”
“Sorry about that,” Greg said softly when she had left, not letting go of Mycroft’s hand. “Acting the part and all that.”
“No need to apologize, it’s… good.” Mycroft squeezed Greg’s hand.
“Good,” Greg smiled at Mycroft. “Wanna finish getting her food?”
“Yes, of course.” Mycroft slipped his hand out of Greg’s and fished the jar and a spoon out of the bag. “There you go, Jackie,” Mycroft said, spooning some carrots out of the jar and offering the spoon. Jackie took it greedily into her mouth. Greg watched as Mycroft fed her, smiling softly at how easy he was with her.
“What?” Mycroft asked when he noticed Greg staring.
“Nothing, just enjoying the view,” Greg smirked just as their waitress came back.
“Awww!” she cooed as she placed their drinks on the table. “How long have you two been together?”
“About four months,” Greg said, smiling as Mycroft concentrated on Jackie.
“Wow, that’s great!” She left them once more.
“Why is everyone so… chipper around here?” Mycroft asked absently.
“Charms of living in a small town, I suppose. Also happy babies tend to make happy adults,” Greg shrugged. An older woman at the next table over leaned over.
“She’s gorgeous,” she said, smiling.
“Thank you,” Mycroft said. At this point he was scraping the bottom of the jar of mashed carrots. “Good?” he asked, addressing Jackie.
“Goo!” she responded, smiling.
“I think that’s the most I’ve heard her speak in one day,” Greg said.
“Yes, she’s in a particularly good mood today.”
“It’s because she gets to spend time with both of us,” Greg said. Just then the waitress came back with their food. She placed both plates on the table and smiled at Jackie before leaving them to eat. The two men ate quickly, only speaking a little.
When they were done Mycroft paid the bill and they headed back to the car and on towards the safe house. When they arrived, Greg pulled Jackie from the car seat and propped her on his hip, digging the carrier from the back and carrying it in his other hand. Mycroft, meanwhile, grabbed the grocery bags and brought them inside.
“Unfortunately, I have work that needs attending,” Mycroft said when he had placed all the bags in the kitchen.
“Not to worry,” Greg said easily. “Jackie and I will put the groceries away, and then I think it will be time for a nap.” He smiled at Mycroft.
“Thank you,” Mycroft said, crossing to him and putting his hand on Greg’s shoulder. “It means a lot how understanding you’re being.”
“I know,” Greg said, putting his hand on top of Mycroft’s in a mirror gesture of the other night. “It’s my pleasure. Also, you’re working to make our lives safer. I can’t really complain.” They stared at each other for another few seconds until Mycroft nodded and left to his office; he could still feel where Greg’s hand had rested only moments before.
“Well Jackie, looks like it’s just you and I for now.”

Chapter Text

A week passed by quickly, Mycroft and Greg simultaneously dancing around each other and working together seamlessly to take care of Jackie. Mycroft was shut into his office more often than not, leaving Greg with Jackie for stretches of time, something Greg wasn’t complaining about. He quickly found himself falling in love with Jackie.
They were at the local grocer again, picking up more food and other essentials, and picking up a DVD at Gregory’s insistence. He had mentioned something earlier about relaxing on the sofa with a good movie. Mycroft was again pushing the cart while Greg loaded it up.
“What about some Jammie Dodgers?” Greg asked Mycroft, holding up a packet. “We could always use Jammie Dodgers.”
Mycroft waved towards the cart he was pushing. “Yes, of course.” He smiled, knowing he would eat the whole pack himself if he wasn’t careful. He occupied himself with Jackie, who was seated in the cart in front of him.
“Do you like Jammie Dodgers, Jackie?” Greg asked her, circling around the cart so that he was standing beside Mycroft.
“Ya!” she cried, grinning at Greg.
“Don’t be silly, you’ve never had any,” Mycroft said, smiling down at Jackie.
“Ya!” she said again.
“Well, that decides it then,” Greg said, smiling at Mycroft. “Anything else we need?”
“No, I think we have everything we require,” Mycroft said, pushing their cart towards the checkout lanes. Mycroft paid for everything while Greg entertained Jackie in the cart.
“Oh, aren’t you the sweetest?” The lady behind the counter asked. She was in her late sixties, grey hair cropped close to her head. “How old is she?” she asked.
“Thirteen months,” Mycroft responded, inserting his card in the chip and pin machine.
“And how long have you two been together?”
“About four months,” Greg cut in.
“That’s nice.” The woman smiled at Jackie before looking at the two men in front of her, a twinkle in her eye. “Why don’t you give us a kiss, then.”
“Pardon?” Mycroft asked.
“A kiss. Please, for me. It’s so nice to see young things in love.”
Both men looked at each other, Mycroft a touch more panicked than Greg.
“Oh, we don’t really-” Mycroft started, flustered.
“It’s fine,” Greg said, smiling at the lady. “Just a small peck.” Greg rounded on Mycroft from behind the cart, leaving Jackie in the seat. He moved slowly as if approaching a spooked beast. Laying his hand slowly on the side of Mycroft’s face, he drew him down and gently pressed their lips together. The kiss only lasted a couple of seconds and was nothing more than a pressing of their lips. Pulling away, Greg smiled at Mycroft. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked gently, smiling. Mycroft spluttered for a moment before the chip and pin machine started beeping at him. Clearing his throat, he busied himself with removing the card from the machine and storing it back in his pocket. Greg scooped Jackie out of the cart and accepted the bags from the teller, proceeding out the store. He went quickly to the car and left the bags in it. The local electronics store was right beside the grocery store, which was their next stop.
“What shall we pick?” Greg asked playfully to Jackie as he bounced her in his arms. “Any preferences, Mycroft?”
“I am not one for movies generally, so I leave it in your capable hands.”
Greg hummed thoughtfully. “Are you a plot man or an action man?” he asked, scrutinizing Mycroft. Mycroft shrugged helplessly in response. “I think an action man. There’s no plot out there you wouldn’t be able to call. Seen any Bond films?”
“None of the new ones,” Mycroft said, hands in his pocket.
“We’ll take this one then,” Greg said, picking up Skyfall. “Should we pick one up for Jackie?”
“May as well, as long as you don’t mind listening to the incessant drivel that is children’s programs.”
“I do not mind, in fact,” Greg said, picking a Peppa Pig DVD as well. The checkout this time went smoother; Greg insisted on paying for the DVDs.
They left the store, the sun shining cheerfully as they walked out onto the sidewalk. Greg had Jackie propped on one arm, the bag with the DVDs in the other hand. A group of two couples were approaching them from up the sidewalk. They paused in order to let the couples pass them, but the couples insisted they go first.
Mycroft pressed himself up against Greg in the guise of kissing him on the cheek as they proceeded forward.
“The people behind us have guns,” he whispered in Greg’s ear. “Stay calm and go straight to the car. My people are on their way.” They walked a little faster, but the couple drew even with them easily.
Greg felt something hard press into the small of his back.
“Don’t stop walking,” a delicate feminine voice hissed in his ear. “We don’t want to cause any trouble for this small town, do we?”
Greg didn’t answer, but he shifted Jackie so that she was cradled on his front instead of propped on his side. Distantly he wondered how he always ended up holding Jackie when they were being attacked.
“No sudden moves, now,” the woman whispered in his ear, digging the gun in further. “No need to get jumpy.”
Greg tightened his hold on Jackie, who squirmed in response. “Shhh,” he soothed, rubbing her back. He could feel sweat sliding down his spine.
“Take a left here,” one of the men behind them said, and they did, ending up in a dead-end alley.
“Kill the spare,” one woman said, pointing to Greg. “We only need the baby, and some information from Mr. Holmes.”
“No,” Mycroft said. “You kill him and you won’t be getting anything from me.”
“Then we’ll kill you too,” the woman shrugged. She seemed to be the leader. “The baby is our top priority. Give it here.”
“No,” Greg said this time, pulling Jackie even closer. “There is no way I’m letting go of her.”
“Give it here, or we’ll shoot you in the head while you’re still holding it.”
“No,” Greg said calmly. If he was to die today, at least it would be protecting a child he loved. He spared a moment of regret for not getting to say goodbye to his own children before resolutely making eye contact with the woman. Jackie started crying. “I’m not handing her over.”
“I’ll give you to the count of three. One-“ The woman raised her gun and pointed it at Greg. Behind the woman, he could see a shadow creeping up. Another was approaching the others in the group. “Two-“ The woman didn’t get the chance to finish counting before the shadows manifested into Mycroft’s men. The one behind the woman hit her on the collarbone, breaking it and causing her to drop her weapon. Her assailant had her in handcuffs in a matter of seconds. On the other side of the alley, the remaining attackers were facing off with Mycroft’s other man. Mycroft had also pulled out a pistol and was aiming it at their attackers. Faster than anyone could react, the three attackers turned tail and ran, prompting Mycroft and his two men to chase after them. Greg stood at the entrance of the alley, effectively blocking it from prying eyes that may pass by. He watched as they all disappeared around a corner and sighed. He wished he could be chasing their attackers too instead of staying behind like a damsel in distress, but he also knew the importance of staying with Jackie. He set about calming Jackie, humming in her ear and rubbing her back, gently rocking back and forth.
“We’re okay, everything’s okay, Daddy will protect you,” he murmured, pressing his lips against her head. She quieted quickly under the attention, pushing at Greg’s chest so she could look at him.
“Da?” she said.
“Yes, Daddy’s run off to catch the bad guys, he’ll be back shortly hopefully,” Greg said, unsure if she could understand any of what he was saying.
“Kay,” she said, patting Greg on the nose.
“Ta,” he said, pretending to bite at her fingers. She giggled, pulling her hand away.
“Are you just going to let me rot here?” the handcuffed woman asked, leaning against the wall. She was pale and a little green, sweat covering her face.
“Unfortunately, no,” Greg said. “We’re just going to wait on Mycroft, and then we’ll be on our way, hopefully with the rest of your company in tow.”
“I could scream, you know.”
“You could, but you won’t. You know why?” Greg asked in a false cheery tone, intent on keeping Jackie quiet. “Because Mycroft’s got more of an influence in this town, hell in this country, than you and whoever you work for do. And you know that if you scream, sure you may be uncuffed for now, but more likely you’ll just be brought into custody where you will rot. And even if you are set free, there’s no way you’ll escape for long. Mycroft has people. Mycroft’s people have people. You will not win.” Greg shot a shark-like grin at the woman, who looked away from him.
Jackie was starting to squirm in his arms again, beginning to get bored of waiting. “I know, pretty girl, it’s dull, but we have to wait for Daddy and his men.”
“No,” Jackie pouted, tapping Greg’s chest with her open hand. “No no no no no,” she chanted happily.
Shifting her to one arm, Greg dug in his pockets for something to entertain her with. He found his set of car keys.
“Brilliant,” he said handing them to Jackie. She grabbed them, jingling them happily. “Yes, that’s fun,” he cooed.
Just then Mycroft and his men come jogging around the corner, alone.
“They got away?” Greg asked.
“Unfortunately. My men will take this one,” he points to the cuffed woman behind Greg, “and place her somewhere secure. We’ll be leaving.” Without another word he walks to the car, Greg following behind. Greg quietly puts Jackie in her car seat, letting her keep his keys. He got into the passenger seat, buckling up and looking over at Mycroft.
“So what now?” he asked quietly as Mycroft pulled out of their parking spot and onto the road.
“I will be going to interrogate her tonight,” Mycroft said. “Hopefully I will find out exactly who they are, why they are here and how they knew where we were, among other things. Meanwhile, you will stay in the house with Jackie. Some of my people will be coming over as extra security. You will also be getting a firearm.”
“Okay, is there anything else I can do to help you?”
“Watch her for me again?” Mycroft asked uncertainly.
“Well that’s a given. I meant anything other than that.”
Mycroft was caught off guard. “Oh- um, no of course not, you are doing more than enough as it is.”
“Well, let me know if that changes. What time are you leaving?”
“I’ll wait until my people arrive to guard the house and then I’ll leave,” he said, turning into the driveway.
“Then you’d better spend that time with your child,” Greg said. “I’ll take care of the shopping and you can grab Jackie,” he continued.
“I really shouldn’t-“
“Spend time being a human before you have to go interrogate our attacker?” Greg said drily. “I’d say that’s exactly what you need. I’m not dumb- I know that what you’ll be doing when you leave this place will not be pretty, or nice, or even maybe humane. That comes with the territory, I’m sure. But you need to take what time you do have to be with your family.” Greg left no room for arguing.
“Right,” Mycroft said, picking Jackie out of the car seat. He went inside the house, Greg following behind. Mycroft moved into the living area with Jackie, sitting on the floor with Jackie and pulling out some of her blocks. Greg moved quietly into the kitchen, putting away the groceries. When he was done, he moved back out to the living area, perching on the arm of the sofa and watching Mycroft stack the blocks as Jackie pushed over the stacks. Mycroft’s expression was unguarded like it rarely was- he was looking softly at Jackie, a grin fighting to turn into an outright smile as Jackie cackled delightedly.
“Thank you,” Mycroft murmured, looking quickly at Greg. “I do need this.”
“I know,” Greg replied smiling. “Enjoy it while you can.”

Chapter Text

“Name?”
The woman sat in stony silence, arms bound to the back of the wooden chair she was seated in. They were in one of Mycroft’s many abandoned warehouses, Mycroft facing the woman as two of his men stood watch at the door.
“As I see it, you have two choices,” Mycroft continued when he got no response. “You can give me the information I’m looking for and leave here with nothing more than a few bruises and a broken collar bone, which you already came in with. Or, you can give me the information I need and leave here far more grievously injured, or possibly dead. But either way, you will reveal what I want eventually. It’s up to you.”
The woman sat staring at him for a moment more.
“Sara,” she spat after a few moments.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked, condescending smile quirking his lips. The woman didn’t answer him.
“Now, who sent you?”
Sara glared at him, jaw set determinedly. Mycroft ran his eyes over her, trying to deduce the best way to get information from her. She was strong-willed, he could see that very clearly. In her body language he saw a willingness to suffer for the cause she was working for, but also a hesitation. She clearly wasn’t willing to die for the cause, and in that Mycroft found a weakness. But he knew he would have to wear her down before breaking her.
“You will die, you know?” he told her conversationally. “If you don’t tell me, that is. So I will ask again, who do you work for?”
Unsurprisingly, she didn’t answer. Mycroft sighed, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows. He had already gotten rid of his jacket and waistcoat when he had arrived at the warehouse.
Pulling to the side, Mycroft landed a hard punch to Sara’s stomach. She leaned over and retched, bile stringing out of her mouth and onto the floor in front of her.
“Who do you work for?” Mycroft asked again conversationally.
“Why does it matter to you?” Sara asked, voice rough.
“Because you are after my child and I do not appreciate it.” He scrutinized the woman for a moment. “How much are they paying you?”
“Not nearly enough,” she ground out.
“No, but there’s something motivating you and it’s not loyalty to the project. If it’s not money, what else could it be?” he mused aloud. “Family?” he noticed her hands tightening imperceptibly where they were clasping the legs of the chair. “That’s it. Have they threatened your family? Or made you a promise?” He saw her eyes widen marginally and she looked away from him. “A promise. Of what, a family? A baby? Ah yes, that’s it, they promised you a baby from their experiment.” He could tell that she was a single woman in her early thirties. She wanted a baby, but knew she wouldn’t be in a relationship any time soon. “My baby, perhaps?”
Sara tilted her head down, avoiding eye contact.
“Did they offer you my baby?” Mycroft asked in a dangerously low voice. Sara still didn’t answer, glaring away from Mycroft. Mycroft, without warning, punched Sara in the nose. Fury was building up inside of him at the thought that this stupid woman was being so god-forsakenly stubborn while out there people were plotting against the safety of his child. “I will ask again,” he said, deceptively calm. “Did they offer you my baby?”
“No,” she said finally before snapping her mouth closed.
“Ah, my dear I’m afraid you’ve shown your hand. No use trying to stay quiet now. You clearly know something. So do you know what the experiment is about?”
“No,” she said again. “All I know is I was promised a healthy baby and one million pounds if I could bring you both in.”
“Promised by who?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Think harder,” he said, looming over her.
“Look, we’re contract workers. We don’t ask questions, we are approached by anonymous offers.”
“Where were you going to bring us, then?” Mycroft asked.
“They gave us an address. It’s a compound north of the city.”
Mycroft nodded. It was the same one he had initially rescued Jackie from. After the botched recon mission, his people had not been able to secure the facility.
“Do you know where the rest of your team is right now?”
“Do I look like I have had contact with them?” she asked bitterly.
“You have a home base, as it were. Where is that?” Mycroft crossed his arms as he stared at Sara. She lapsed back into silence, shaking her head. Mycroft laid his hand on her shoulder. To an outside viewer, it would look like a comforting gesture. As it was, Mycroft was watching sweat bead on Sara’s face as he put more pressure on her broken clavicle. She steadily grew paler and started breathing harshly through her nose, teeth creaking with the effort to not cry out.
“Stop!” she said finally.
“Are you going to tell me where your team is?” Mycroft asked, not letting up.
“Stop, please just stop, plea-“ she leaned over and threw up on Mycroft’s shoes. Mycroft grimaced slightly but did not let go.
“If I promise not to harm them, will you tell me where the others are?”
“How do I know you won’t lie?” she asked, gasping.
“You’re going to have to trust me,” Mycroft said coolly. “I haven’t lied to you so far, have I?”
“Fine, let go, I’ll tell you,” she said finally. She gasped out an address as Mycroft let go of her shoulder. “It’s an abandoned flat that we were using,” she said as he let go, slumping in the ropes binding her to the chair.
“Thank you,” he said. He considered her for a moment. She seemed loyal enough, relatively smart as far as thugs went, and could obviously withstand a certain amount of pain. If his people hadn’t been there, her and her people would have had a chance at getting Jackie. “Your team, is that a permanent arrangement?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, scrutinizing him. “Why?”
“Well, I told you if you told me what I wanted to know you would walk out of here. I’d like to offer you and your team a place among my staff, if you are interested.”
“What’s my other option? It’s not like you’ll let me walk out on my own.”
“No, you’re right,” he said easily. “I will let you walk out, but I will ensure you are never offered another job again.” He watched for her reaction. “I can’t promise you a baby,” he says with a small quirk of his lips, “but I can promise you a job that is slightly more stable and conducive to single parenting than the one you currently have.”
“How did-?”
“I just know these things,” he said, small smile still on his lips. “I think you and your team could be helpful to me. I treat my employees well.” She was clearly considering his offer. “Either way, I will have your clavicle looked at. And your nose. Probably should have your stomach looked at too. Sorry about that.”
Sara looked at him incredulously. “Really? You act like this is so normal.”
“You were about to abduct a baby, and you want to talk to me about normal?”
“I suppose not,” she murmured. “I will talk to the team, but I don’t see them having a problem with your offer,” she said after a moment.
Mycroft nodded. “I will have you brought to my medical facility, where you will be held until we have collected your team. Then we may discuss further.” Mycroft nodded at her, pulling out his phone and texting instructions to his people.

**********************************************

He arrived at his house mid-afternoon and walked in, finding Greg laying on the couch with Jackie on his chest, both fast asleep. Smiling fondly, he walked over and shook Greg’s shoulder gently. Greg jumped, hand tightening on Jackie’s back.
“Oh, hey Mycroft,” he said softly, looking down to make sure Jackie was still asleep. “How’d it go?” Sitting up slowly, Greg lifted Jackie and handed her over to Mycroft.
“I found out where the rest of the woman’s team is,” he said. “My team and I have also discovered over the week that Jackie was indeed a test subject where we found her. She was apparently injected with some sort of super booster when she was first brought into their facility because she was small and sickly.” Mycroft looked down at the sleeping baby now cradled against his chest. “Lucky for us, it doesn’t seem to have had any adverse effects as of yet.”
Greg turned so that he was facing Mycroft, one leg propped up on the sofa. “Lucky,” he agreed smiling. He looked down. “It looks like you’ve got something on your shoes,” he said, leaning down.
“Ah, yes, that is vomit.” He offered no further explanation, allowing Greg to draw his own conclusions.
“I won’t ask,” Greg said. “Confidential, right?” Smiling, he leaned his arm across the back of the sofa, leaning closer to Mycroft and putting his hand on Mycroft’s leg comfortingly. He looked earnestly into Mycroft’s startled eyes, squeezing where his hand rested.
Mycroft cleared his throat a few times before scooting out of Greg’s reach. “You don’t need to pretend to like me when we are alone,” he told Greg, looking down at Jackie.
Greg furrowed his brow. “But I do like you, I like you a-“
“I have to go and get changed,” Mycroft interrupted, speaking over Greg. He stood and handed Jackie back to him. The movement woke her up and she started crying. “I only came home to check on her and change my clothes before heading out again.” Turning on his heel, Mycroft ran up the stairs. While he was upstairs, Greg rocked Jackie back and forth, his distress matching hers. He could have sworn that him and Mycroft were getting closer and, after the kiss the other day, he was sure… well, he had really screwed up now. Jackie stopped crying quickly, having only been momentarily shocked.
“Da?” she asked.
“Just gone upstairs, but he’ll be leaving quickly,” he told her, knowing she wouldn’t really understand. Tapping on his chest, Jackie pointed down to the ground.
“What, no cuddles for me?” Greg asked her, softly smiling. Leaning down, he put her on the ground and let her crawl towards the police dog that lay forgotten on the floor. Greg didn’t notice when Mycroft came back into the room, too engrossed watching Jackie.
Mycroft took a moment to observe Greg. He was confused as to why Greg had touched him as he had earlier. Obviously he was only pretending to like Mycroft in order to continue the charade, but didn’t he realize he didn’t have to do that in private? Mycroft carefully ignored the pit that opened in the bottom of his stomach when he thought of Greg only pretending. Greg was too kind to be attracted to someone as emotionally stunted as he was, and it was best he let him know that now.
Jackie noticed Mycroft in the doorway and her face lit up. “Da!” she said, picking up the police dog and scooching towards Mycroft. When she got close, she held her arms up in a clear invitation to be picked up. Mycroft didn’t hesitate, bending down and scooping her up. He held her close for a moment, closing his eyes and kissing the top of her head. Greg noticed that Mycroft had changed into what looked like a black tac suit.
Mycroft looked back up at Greg for a moment before stalking over to him and handing Jackie back to him.
“I’m going to infiltrate the compound.”

Chapter Text

“Like hell you are,” Greg said, shifting Jackie so that she was on his hip. He couldn't believe Mycroft would put himself in danger like that. “Don’t you have people to do that for you?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but some things require my personal attention. This is one of those times.”
Greg huffed. “Then I’m coming with you,” he said, shrugging. “You need someone to have your back.”
“You are not coming. I already have people to have my back.”
“Yes but I don’t know those people and therefore I don’t trust those people,” Greg said as if that explained everything.
“And that has relevance how?” Mycroft asked.
“It has relevance because I need to know you are going to come home to this little girl and that you are going to come home okay and frankly, she’s too young to worry so that comes down to me so now I’m worrying for the both of us and I care about you!” he practically shouted. He paused, catching his breath and controlling his voice. “You are such a great father, and you need to make sure that you come home alive for her and for… me.” Greg stood there and glared at Mycroft for a moment before turning and heading to the kitchen, Jackie still on his hip.
Mycroft debated following him for a moment before deciding against it. It was better this way, anyway. He had gotten to say goodbye to Jackie, and it wasn’t as if he was planning on not making it back. He would see them again I a few hours, a few days at most.

He arrived at the base a few hours later, back-up close behind. This time, the plan was to find the head of the project and put a stop to the whole program. Mycroft had had enough of being on high alert, and he couldn’t stand the idea of other helpless children being taken advantage of.
This time, they had planned for more backup. There was a whole team accompanying Mycroft into the building and another team following them in. They knew there was a chance that the facility had upped its security and had taken that into account.
Mycroft sat in the van, thinking on the plans they had formulated and pushing out any thoughts of Greg or Jackie. Emotion would not help him in a situation like this, and he endeavored to shut it out.
“Sir, everyone’s ready to go in when you are,” Anthea said from beside him. She would be coordinating the raid from inside the van.
“I am ready now,” Mycroft said, ensuring he had his guns in place before climbing out of the van. His men followed him out of the van and gathered around him.
“The goal here is to incapacitate any security that might be in the building. From our intel, we know that there are only four scientists who partake in this particular experiment. At this time of night, the leader of the program will be the only one in the building. She will be my target. Our back-up is approximately ten minutes away, but unless there is exponentially more security than predicted, we should be fine and they will serve more as clean up. Any questions?”
“No, sir,” chorused around him and he nodded.
“Usual formation, then. On my signal.” Mycroft watched as everyone fell into formation around and behind him. Silently he signaled for them to approach the building. They crept down the drive that connected the road to the building, silent and sticking to the shadows. Mycroft lifted his hand, signaling for two of his men to take out the two guards standing in front of the door. Silently they incapacitated the guards, leaving them alive but unconscious on the ground. The group continued silently moving in, one of the men moving forward to hack into the electronic security system. When he gave them the all-clear, the men entered the building and fanned out, all drawing their weapons. While the others would go to deal with the rest of the security, Mycroft was moving to the back of the building to find the head of the project. He went to the same secret room he had found the first time without meeting any other guards. When he got there he pressed his ear against the door like last time and, again hearing nothing, threw open the door.
He was met with the sight of the same scientist as last time, but this time she was sitting at the desk, notes spread out in front of her. Instead of looking at the notes, however, she was looking at the door with the gun pointed directly at it.
“Did you really think we hadn’t put more security on the building after last time?” she asked calmly, gun not wavering in her hand.
“Of course not,” Mycroft answered, shrugging.
“And yet you didn’t seen this coming?”
“Who says that?” Mycroft asked nonchalantly.
“Your lack of back up for one thing, as well as the fact that I’m pointing a gun at you.”
Mycroft rocked his head side to side, considering. “That could mean I’m unprepared. It also could mean I know exactly how this is going to play out.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Do tell me, Mr. Holmes.” She emphasized his name, proving that she knew who she was dealing with. “How exactly will this play out?”
“Now why would I ruin the surprise?” Mycroft asked, cocking an eyebrow in return.
“Let me tell you how it will go, then,” she said. “We already know where you are hiding the child. After I take you out tonight, we will move out tomorrow and gather the child.”
“Why do you want her so bad?” Mycroft asked.
“Because she’s full of the first successful dose of our booster. She is literally all we’ve been working towards. Has she shown any symptoms since you’ve had her?”
“She had a cold when I first got her, but recovered normally and since then nothing out of the ordinary has happened.” He hated the inane chatting but needed to know as much as possible about what was running through his child.
“Fantastic,” the woman said, voice slightly awed. “Before that booster, that cold would have killed her,” she told Mycroft. “I’ve got all the files on the booster right here,” she said, pointing at the papers spread out in front of her.
“You won’t just hand them over, by any chance?” Mycroft asked sardonically.
“Nope, and if you take one step closer, I won’t hesitate to shoot you.”
Mycroft hummed. “Then it seems we are at a bit of an impasse.”
“So it would seem.”
Mycroft stood in the doorway, his gun still clasped in his lowered hand. Calculations were frantically racing around his head- whether he could get his gun up fast enough to shoot her, whether he could lunge for her gun and the papers before she shot him. He was also wondering why the scientist hadn’t shot him yet.
“Unless we’re not,” the scientist said with a smirk. As if triggered by Mycroft’s thoughts, she shifted in her seat and shot at Mycroft. He dove to the side, but not quickly enough. He felt the bullet rip through his thigh, coming out the other side. Hissing, he slumped against the doorframe and gritted his jaw against the pain. This was much worse than the glancing shot he had received last time. Raising his gun, he shot at the scientist. A bloom of red appeared on her shoulder, just above her heart. She fell backward into her chair, a look of shock painting across her face. Apparently, she had forgotten that shooting him in the leg would not prevent him from shooting her. Mycroft moved forward, keeping his eyes and gun trained on her. He swallowed back the pain, sweat beading on his face. It was not the first time he would be working through intense pain.
When he reached the desk, he knocked the gun out of her hand and swept up all the papers, tucking them into one of his zippered pockets.
“I have incapacitated the scientist and acquired the information. I will need some assistance getting her out,” Mycroft said into his earpiece.
“The back up team is just arriving, I will send some of them your way,” Anthea answered.
“Quickly, if you please.” Mycroft could feel the blood steadily draining out of his leg, and spots were starting to dance. He focused on one point on the wall ahead of him, trying to maintain consciousness as he simultaneously watched over the scientist in front of him.
Some time later three of Mycroft’s people came through the door, two moving to apprehend the scientist and one to support Mycroft, who was leaning on the desk in front of him.
“Sir?” he heard the agent ask from a distance. Dimly he realized he was about to lose consciousness and bent his knees, trying to lessen the distance between him and the floor. A last lance of pain cut through his thigh and his last thought was of how angry Gregory was going to be.

Chapter Text

Greg was still seething, four hours later. He had put Jackie down to sleep about an hour ago and was now furiously scrubbing every surface in the kitchen in hopes of working out some of his anger and frustration. He couldn’t believe that Mycroft would leave and put his life in danger without thinking it through first. This line of thought led him to scrub even harder on the sink tap, which came off in his hand.
“Shit,” he swore roughly, slamming the broken tap on the counter and growling in frustration. He slammed the tap handle back on, making sure it worked. He rubbed one hand roughly over his eyes and considered succumbing to the pressure building up behind them when a loud commotion came from the front door. “Seriously?” he mumbled quietly under his breath, pulling the gun that Mycroft had given him out of his hip holster and moving quietly to the kitchen door, carefully leaning around the corner. A giant dark mass was outlined by the front door and Greg could hear grunting. Slowly moving towards the front door he raised the gun, clearing his throat.
“Can I help you?” he asked, still not able to see clearly.
“Yes, actually, put that gun away and turn on a light, for starters,” a gruff female voice replied. “Also I could use a hand with this idiot.”
Thoroughly confused, Greg moved to the light switch and turned it on, illuminating the shape in front of him. What he saw was a female in a paramedic’s jacket with Mycroft’s arm slung over her shoulder, clearly struggling under his weight. Greg swore and holstered his gun, hurrying so he was on Mycroft’s other side and supporting him.
“Who are you? What happened?” Greg asked as they moved towards the closest bedroom, which happened to be his.
“I’m Marica, his personal EMT. How much do you know?” She asked.
“He was going to infiltrate the lab where he found Jackie,” Greg huffed as they gently lowered him onto the bed.
“He was shot in the thigh,” she replied, straightening his legs and undoing the jacket of Mycroft’s tac suit.
“Why isn’t he in hospital?” Greg asked as he watched her, frustrated that there was nothing he could do to help.
“Mr. Holmes doesn’t do hospitals,” Marcia said, her tone revealing exactly what she thought about that.
“What? Why not? That’s ridiculous.”
“Oh, I know that,” Marcia said. She opened the bag that had been slung on her shoulder, pulling out bandages, a medical sewing kit and medical scissors. “Can you grab me a bowl of hot water?”
“Yeah, of course,” Greg said, running out of the room and putting the kettle on, standing impatiently as he watched it boil. When it was mostly done Greg emptied it out into a bowl, putting a rag in the bowl, grabbing a hand towel and walking as quickly as he could back to the bedroom while not spilling the boiling water. “Here,” he said when he got there, standing beside Marcia.
“Thanks,” she said, reaching in and grabbing the rag. Wringing it out, she wiped the wound on Mycroft’s leg. Greg realized that she had cut off the leg of Mycroft’s tac suit in order to reach the wound. When she was done cleaning and drying it, she inspected it for a moment before pulling out a needle and filling it with lidocaine. She numbed the front of Mycroft’s thigh quickly and then got the thread and needle ready.
“I’ll need to stitch both sides of his thigh. He’s passed out right now but he may wake up. I’m going to need you to hold his hand if that happens. Do you think you can do that?” She spoke to him simply, clearly shifting into crisis mode.
“Yes,” Greg said immediately. He moved to the head of the bed and took Mycroft’s hand in his own.
“Okay, here we go,” Marcia said and without any more hesitation leaned forward and stabbed the needle into his skin. Mycroft didn’t flinch, but Greg did. He dutifully watched as Marcia administered the stitches, holding strong to Mycroft’s hand.
When she was done, Marcia put the needle and thread down on the bed. “Now we’re going to need to flip him,” she said. “I’ll grab his arm and hip, you push from behind, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Greg dropped Mycroft’s hand, positioning himself on the opposite side of the bed from Marcia so that he could push. Together they flipped Mycroft over onto his back, his head tilted towards Greg. Greg took Mycroft’s hand again as Marcia picked up the needle, giving another shot of lidocaine to Mycroft. Marcia picked up the needle, making the first jab into Mycroft’s skin. At the first jab, Mycroft stirred, groaning as his eyes cracked open.
“Hi, you fucking nutter,” Greg said gently, still incredibly angry with Mycroft. “Marcia is stitching up the hole you got in your buggering leg, I imagine that doesn’t feel good. What were you bloody thinking?” This was all said in a whisper, Greg trying to maintain a calm façade. He knew he shouldn’t be attacking Mycroft while he was only partially conscious, but he couldn’t help it.
“Home?” Mycroft asked blearily, looking at Greg.
“Yeah, Marcia dragged your ass in here.”
“Safe now,” Mycroft said, closing his eyes again.
“Just stay still,” Greg told Mycroft, gently running his hand down Mycroft’s hair. “It’s almost done.”
“All done,” Marcia said a few seconds later, tying off the stitches. “He’ll need to stay off the leg for the next few days, and he’ll need a lot of rest and relaxation. He lost a lot of blood, but nothing I’m too worried about. Lucky for him, the bullet missed anything vital. Again, sleep and nourishment should do the job in replenishing there.”
“Okay, thanks,” Greg said.
“I’ve contacted Dr. Watson and apprised him of the situation, he will be over tomorrow to look over the injury. You should probably get some sleep while he does, he will be difficult once he’s awake.”
“I have no doubt,” Greg said. They were interrupted by a wail in the next room.
“I should go get her,” he said. “Are you good for right now?”
“Yeah, go take care of her. How is he with her?”
“Incredible,” Greg said. “A natural, and a natural worrier,” Greg smirked.
“As I suspected,” she chuckled. “Go grab her and bring her in. I can watch her for a couple hours if you want to take a nap.”
Greg hesitated for a moment. As much as sleep seemed like a good idea, he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep for the next year, as keyed up as he was. He also had a sudden urge to protect Mycroft and Jackie at whatever cost.
“I’m good, thanks. I’ll go grab her and you can say hi though?”
“Sure,” Marcia said. Greg went to Jackie and Mycroft’s room, picking Jackie up from the bed and cradling her to his chest.
“Hi love,” he murmured. “Have a good nap? Do you need a nappy change?” He checked her nappy, but she seemed clean and dry. “Okay, let’s go say hi to Marcia.” He propped her on his hip, rubbing her leg where it rested on his waist. When they got into his room, Marcia’s face lit up.
“Hi, baby girl,” she said, moving towards them and beaming.
Jackie said a quiet “ah” to Marcia, watching her with wide eyes. Greg noted that Marica had packed up her things and had tucked Mycroft under the covers, what remained of his tac suit thrown on top of the bed.
“Can you wave to Marcia?” Greg asked Jackie, demonstrating. Jackie tentatively waved her hand up and down, head burrowing shyly into Greg’s shoulder.
“She looks good, a lot healthier than last time I saw her,” Marcia said, smiling up at Greg.
“Yeah, he’s been great with her.”
“Well, I’m going to get going. It was nice to meet you, and to see her again. Remember, sleep and fluids. No getting out of that bed until Dr. Watson comes tomorrow morning. And probably not even after that. I’ve left some pain relievers on the bedside table for him.”
“What about bathroom trips?” Greg asked.
“As long as he doesn’t put weight on the leg,” Marcia answered. “So you’ll have to help him get there.”
“He’ll love that,” Greg said sarcastically.
“Well he shouldn’t have gotten shot. Then he wouldn’t have this problem.”
“Oh, I agree completely,” Greg said. “You kept his pants on, right?”
“Yes, he’s in his vest and pants. Hopefully I won’t see you too soon, there’s only so many times he can stand to injure himself,” Marcia said, letting herself out of the bedroom and out of the house.
“Looks like it’s just us, now, for a while at least,” Greg said to Jackie, grabbing a chair from against the wall and pulling it over to the bedside. He rested Jackie on his lap, facing her out towards Mycroft.
“Da!” she said, trying to lean forward and touch Mycroft.
“Yeah, Daddy was in an idiot who got himself shot and now he’s asleep,” Greg said to Jackie. “Sometimes he’s very smart but very stupid, all at the same time. He’s quite the oxymoron.”
Jackie babbled back at Greg, looking quite serious.
“Yes, I know he’s silly,” Greg agreed. “Now, I believe it is time to feed you. I think Daddy will be out for a little while yet. We’ll nip quickly down to the kitchen to get you a bottle and some munchies, stop by the sitting room for toys, and take up residence here, how does that sound?”
Jackie continued looking at Greg expectantly. “Num?” she said.
“Yes, we’ll go get you some food,” Greg chuckled. Picking her up, Greg went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle and enough snacks for the afternoon for both him and Jackie. Then he went to the sitting room and grabbed toys for Jackie and books for both of them. Carrying it all, he went back into his room, sitting on the chair again and giving Jackie the bottle. She happily sucked it back, dropping the bottle onto Greg’s lap when she was done with it. Greg gave her a digestive cracker to munch on, which she did happily. Halfway through, she offered the mushy cracker to Greg.
“No, thank you,” he said quietly, pushing her hand back towards her mouth. “You eat that one.” He grabbed another one to eat for himself. “See, I’ve got my own.” Jackie finished eating her cracker, watching Greg eat his. When she was done, Greg put her on the floor with some of her toys. He let her crawl around for about an hour, keeping an eye between her and Mycroft. Mycroft barely moved, twitching a few times in his sleep but otherwise still very much asleep.
Eventually Jackie grew tired, crawling back towards Greg and holding her arms to be picked up. Greg scooped her up and held her close. “How about a story?” he asked her, leaning down and picking up the first picture book he saw. It was “The Jolly Postman”, one of Greg’s favourites. He read it to her, holding it so she could see and touch the pages as he was reading. Soon she was leaning her head back against his chest, fast asleep. Greg stopped reading, putting the book down beside him and closing his eyes. He figured he was safe to rest them for a moment.
Next thing he knew, he was being awoken by a loud rustling. Opening his eyes, Greg saw Mycroft propped up on one arm, trying to throw off the covers and get out of bed.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Greg asked, looking down to see it Jackie was awake. She was still blissfully asleep.
“Going to my own room,” Mycroft said weakly, still trying to get out of bed.
“I don’t think so. Now get back in that bed.” Greg could feel his anger starting to build again.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Greg. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. Do you know how I know you’re not fine? Your EMT had to drag your unconscious body in here, and then I had to help her drag you to your bed. And then I had to watch her stitch up your gunshot wound. No hospitals? Jesus Mycroft, what if you had been seriously injured? What if you were on the edge of death, with me and Jackie waiting anxiously at home, and you refused to go to hospital?”
“I have a facility that I can be brought to if operation is necessary. It is only used as a last resort, however. I do not like hospitals, Marcia is quite competent at patching me up, as you saw.”
“As I saw? Yeah, as I saw, as I saw your unconscious body on this bed and I waited for you to wake up and took care of Jackie and hoped that you would wake up okay.”
“I’m sure Marcia told you it was-“
“I’m not done!” Greg shouted. “You wouldn’t know what Marcia said because you were unconscious, Mycroft! And sure, she did say you were okay, but that means shite when you haven’t woken up in hours. Things can go downhill quickly, as I’m sure you know, so don’t you ‘Marcia said’ me.” Greg took a deep breath and let it out. He looked down at Jackie, who had been woken by his shouting but who had miraculously stayed silent. “Sorry you had to see that, Jackie,” he said, gentler than moments before. He wrapped an arm around Jackie’s middle, keeping her steady.
“You can go now, Gregory,” Mycroft said, voice equally quiet. “I’ve eliminated the threat. You are no longer obligated to be here. No need to pretend to like me anymore.”
Greg gaped at him for a moment. “I- what? You think I don’t care? God, are you thick? I literally sat here for hours waiting for you to come back and then waiting for you to wake up, and you think I did that because I don’t care? Where the hell did you pull that from?” Greg was ramping right back up. “Look Myc, I don’t know why the hell you think that would be the case, if something happened in your childhood or whatever, but I do care for you. Goddammit I haven’t felt an obligation to be here since after that first day. This has been, I hesitate to say now, nice. Really rather enjoyable, for all that we were being chased by bad guys. And before that, I really thought we were becoming friends, at least. More, hopefully. So don’t you dare pull that ‘not obligated’ shit out of your ass. I love you, Mycroft Holmes, and I love Jackie and I would love to be a part of your life if you’d let me!” Greg’s voice had not gone down in intensity, so he ended up partially screaming the last part.
Mycroft sat on the bed, blinking for a few moments. “Um.”
“Of course, if you want me to leave…” Greg said after an awkwardly long pause.
“No!” Mycroft said, reaching towards Greg. “No, I… just, it’s a lot.”
“Really? You didn’t feel an inkling of anything?” Greg asked, dejected.
“Well of course I did, I just didn’t think you would reciprocate.”
“You daft sod,” Greg said, picking Jackie up and moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “Of course I felt something. We have a connection, Mycroft.” Greg leaned forward and without any hesitation kissed Mycroft. It wasn’t long, and it was rather innocent, and to Mycroft it was perfect. They pulled away after a moment, grinning at each other.
“Now, I was told very firmly by Marcia that you need rest and fluids. So I’ve got a glass of water here that I want you to finish, and then you’ll be going back to sleep.”
“I won’t be able to sleep anymore, but I will take the glass of water,” Mycroft said, leaning back. “Can I hold her?”
“Of course,” Greg said, handing Jackie over to Mycroft. He pulled her close, kissing both her cheeks and tucking her under his chin, burying his nose in her hair.
“Drink up,” Greg said, handing Mycroft the glass of water. Mycroft kept one hand supporting Jackie to his chest, taking the glass in the other. He quickly downed the glass, handing it back to Greg when he was done.
“Could I have tea?” he asked.
“Sure,” Greg said, taking the glass. “You cuddle with your baby, I’ll be right back with tea for us. No getting out of bed, okay?” Greg’s tone left no room for argument.
“Okay,” Mycroft said, sighing. “I will have to urinate eventually, you know,” Mycroft said.
“And I will help you to the bathroom when you do,” Greg said. “Marcia said no weight on that leg.”
“You will not.” Mycroft looked affronted.
“I will, in fact,” Greg said. “And I won’t stand any more arguing about it. Just because I said I love you doesn’t mean I’m not still angry at you,” Greg said, giving him a pointed look.
“Yes, Gregory,” Mycroft sighed, figuring they could cross that bridge when they got there.
“I’ll be back in a tic with that tea,” Greg said, smiling at Mycroft to reassure him. Most of his anger had been released in the chewing out he had delivered. They would eventually have to talk more, but Greg was confident it could wait until Mycroft was feeling better.
When he re-entered the bedroom carrying two mugs, it was to the sight of Mycroft with Jackie sitting beside him, happily babbling at him while he answered her.
“That sounds very interesting!” he said to her as she paused in her babbling. “I believe she’s telling me all about her day,” Mycroft informed Greg.
“Ah yes, the fascinating hour of playing with her toys, followed by my reading the Jolly Postman.”
“Yes, she was just getting to that part,” Mycroft smirked at Greg. “Thank you,” he said as he took the mug Greg offered. He drank the tea quickly, taking a painkiller with it.
Greg drank his tea more slowly, watching Mycroft from his chair. Jackie was now crawling towards Greg on the bed.
“Hey Jackie, who’s that?” Greg asked, pointing at Mycroft. Jackie turned her head quickly, following Greg’s finger.
“Da!” she cried crawling back towards Mycroft. Mycroft scooped her up and nuzzled into her belly, eliciting a laugh. Greg had never seen him so easy with her and wondered if the painkillers had something to do with it.
“I think I will lay down, now,” Mycroft said. “But I will not sleep. I have done that enough, already.” Mycroft laid Jackie on her back beside him, lying on his side on the thigh that was not shot. Jackie looked at him from her position on her back. “Would you care to join us?” Mycroft asked tentatively of Greg.
“Sure,” Greg replied. “I’m going to be here all night, may as well be comfortable.”
“You don’t have to, you know.”
“Shut it,” Greg said with no bite behind his words. He crawled on top of the sheets, still fully clothed.
“You can come under the blankets,” Mycroft said.
“Sure,” Greg said, shifting until he was under the blankets, facing Mycroft and Jackie. Jackie looked over to see what all the commotion was about, watching Greg settle in. Greg put his hand on Jackie’s tummy. “Hi, gorgeous,” he said gently. She cooed gently back at him, reaching her hand towards him and opening and closing her fist. Mycroft put his hand over Greg’s, closing his eyes and falling asleep.
Greg was woken again by rustling sheets.
“Where are you going?” Greg asked.
“Loo,” Mycroft grunted, getting his feet solidly on the ground. Beside Greg, Jackie had woken up. She cooed at them both.
“Okay, just give me a second,” Greg said, crawling over the bed and sitting himself beside Mycroft. “Put your arm around my shoulder.”
“What about Jackie? We shouldn’t leave her here while she’s awake.”
Greg paused for a moment, thinking. “Can you hold on a moment?” Greg asked.
“Sure,” Mycroft said.
“I mean it, no getting up until I get back.”
“Yes, alright,” Mycroft said. “I will spend time with my daughter while I wait.”
“Good.” Greg ran to the sitting room and then returned to the bedroom holding the baby carrier. “Ta-da!” he said, proud of his idea.
“Hm, quite smart,” Mycroft acknowledged as Greg strapped it onto himself. Mycroft handed Jackie to Greg, who kissed her on the head before sliding her into the holder on his front, her head tucked into his chest. Once she was secure, he slung his arm around Mycroft’s back.
“Okay, let’s do this,” he said. “On three. One, two, three.” They both stood, Mycroft leaning heavily on Greg for support. They made their way to the bathroom one step at a time, Mycroft wincing the entire way. When they reached the toilet, Mycroft looked at Gregory.
“You may leave me now.”
“Nope. No weight on that leg, Mycroft, that means even standing.”
“You are not watching me urinate.”
Greg sighed. “I’ll look away,” he said, the ‘obviously’ implied in his tone.
“I- well- if there is no other alternative?”
“Well you could sit, but you would have to get your pants off first which would have a larger chance of me getting a peek of something you don’t want me getting a peek at. It’s really your choice.”
Mycroft heaved a put-upon sigh. “Very well, look away.” Greg averted his eyes.
A few minutes later Mycroft cleared his throat. “I am done,” he announced.
“Great, back to bed we go,” Greg answered, turning and slowly directing Mycroft back to the bed. When Mycroft was tucked under the covers, Greg stood back. “I’m going to make us something to eat,” he said. “I’m not sure exactly what time it is, but we should both eat, that’s what I know. Any requests?”
“Toast will be good,” Mycroft said.
“You were just shot, you’re going to need a little more than toast.”
“Toast and fried eggs, then.”
“Fine, tea?”
“Please.”
“Alright, you take her and I’ll go make us some food. Be back soon. Also, John will be coming over sometime this morning.”
“Okay,” Mycroft answered, sitting Jackie on the bed. “Could you put some of her toys on the bed?”
“Any particular ones?”
“Her blocks, the animal figurines and of course the stuffed police dog, please.”
Greg smiled as he complied, putting all the requested items on the bed as well as a couple of books. “Anything else?”
“Not at the moment.”
“If you need anything, give us a holler.” Greg leaned forward and kissed Mycroft on the cheek, pulling back when Mycroft stiffened. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
Mycroft had gone beet red. “That’s quite alright, I don’t mind,” he said. The two men locked eyes, the tension building until it was broken by Jackie’s exclamation of “Da!”
“Yes, sorry, was I not paying enough attention to you?” Mycroft asked, smiling down at her.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Greg chuckled, whistling as he left the room.
“What a silly man,” Mycroft murmured to Jackie. “Now, what have we here?” he picked up the figure of the cow. “Can you say cow?” he said, pointing the cow at Jackie. “Come on, cow.” Although Jackie was becoming more vocal, there weren’t many words past no and da that she had mastered, and Mycroft was starting to worry that she was falling behind developmentally. Some of the parenting books said that babies could start talking as early as six months and, although he hadn’t known her at six months, Mycroft had a suspicion that she hadn’t been talked to much wherever she had been. He tried to make up for that neglect by speaking to her as often as he could. Other books said that she could be starting her first words at 11 months, which placated him somewhat.
“Look Jackie.” Mycroft showed her the cow once more. “Coooow.”
“Ooow,” Jackie said slowly, reaching out for the plastic figurine.
“Close! Cow, cow,” Mycroft enunciated, putting emphasis on the c.
“Cow,” Jackie said clumsily, looking at Mycroft.
“Yes! Very good, Jackie, what a smart, smart baby.” He picked her up and kissed her on the cheek.
“Cow, cow, cow!” she said happily, giggling and clapping her hands together.
“Did your baby just call you a cow?”
Mycroft turned towards the door and saw both John and Sherlock standing in the doorway.
“No, brother, she was talking to this figurine of a cow,” he said, showing Sherlock the figure. Sherlock looked amused.
“Cow!” Jackie confirmed.
“I feel I will regret teaching her that word.”
“You may be right,” John said, chuckling. “Now, how’s that leg feeling?”
“Like it was shot,” Mycroft answered honestly.
“Let’s take a look then.” John placed his medical bag on the bed and opened it up. “Sherlock, will you go help Greg with breakfast?”
“But why?” Sherlock whined.
“Because this is a medical check up between doctor and patient. Now get out.” John slapped Sherlock lightly on the bum. “And take Jackie with you.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, swooping in to take Jackie from Mycroft. “Let’s go show Lestrade what you learned.”
“I wanted to show him,” Mycroft grumbled as Sherlock swanned out the door.
John chuckled. “You two kiss and make up?” he asked as he pulled back the sheets.
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Mycroft said, a blush marring his cheeks.
“No strenuous activity I hope?” John asked with a raised brow as he unwound the bandages.
“No, nothing like that,” Mycroft hastened to reassure. “All innocent, I assure you.”
“You happy, then?”
“Very.” They left it at that as John finished unwrapping the bandage and took a look at the stitches.
“Marcia did a good job here.”
“When doesn’t she?”
“True,” John acknowledged. “Between the two of us, we’ll keep you alive, yet.”
“I have more to live for now,” Mycroft agreed.
“Not that you didn’t have a lot to live for before.”
“No, you’re right. But now it’s not just Sherlock.”
John hummed in agreement. ”Well, as I’m sure Marica told you, no weight on the leg for at least a week, especially since we only did superficial stitches. She said nothing internal was hit but better to be too cautious than not cautious enough. Lots of rest and relaxation, fluids and nourishment, the usual. She left you a bottle of pain relievers there, let me know if you need the prescription refilled.”
“Yes, John,” Mycroft said. They had done this enough times over the years that this part was routine.
“It’s been a while since we’ve had to do this.” John looked at Mycroft. “You can’t afford to get shot, seriously, Mycroft,” John said as he packed up his bag. “There are people in this world that would miss you, including Sherlock and myself.”
“I know,” he said meekly. “It seems I may have grown a touch rusty in the time that I have taken a more stationary role at my job.”
“Did you just admit that you made a mistake?” Sherlock asked incredulously from the doorway, Jackie held on his hip.
“Why is it you walk in at the most inopportune moments?” Mycroft asked.
“I have impeccable timing, what can I say?” Sherlock asked as Greg followed behind him, a tray with two plates and two mugs of tea balanced on it. Mycroft looked unimpressed but didn’t say anything as Greg put down the tray, giving him his mug to place on the bedside table. He sat down, picking up his cutlery from the tray and digging into his own food.
“Eat up,” he said to Mycroft, who sighed but picked up his cutlery.
“Yes, mother.”
“Ah, is that the dynamic in this relationship?” Sherlock asked, eyes cutting between the two of them.
“Don’t answer that!” John said. “What is or isn’t the dynamic of their relationship is none of your business, Sherlock.”
“And for the record, no, it’s not our dynamic,” Greg said around a mouthful of egg.
“Right well, if there’s nothing else you want me to look at, I think we will be going,” John said.
“Actually, I obtained some information about Jackie before I got shot. If you look in the lining of my tac jacket, you’ll find documents detailing a booster that was administered to Jackie.” John picked up the jacket, finding the papers after a little more direction from Mycroft. He opened them up, eyes scanning quickly over the papers.
“Seems harmless enough, mostly just a mixture of vitamins and immune system boosters. I’ll take a look at her and you should keep an eye on her, but I’m not too worried. Luckily, it seems to have actually helped.”
John got Sherlock to hold her as he looked her over, sitting on the edge of the bed and laying her down or sitting her up as directed. Greg and Mycroft watched from the middle of the bed, both working their way through their plates.
“Looks good,” John said finally, giving her belly a tickle. She giggled and squirmed in Sherlock’s hands. “Give Mycroft his baby back, Sherlock,” John said. “We’ll see you two in a few days so that I can check on both of you again, alright?” John asked.
“Yes,” Mycroft said, finishing his eggs and picking up a piece of toast. “Thank you,” he said as Sherlock passed him Jackie, sticking the piece of toast in his mouth so that he could receive Jackie. He sat her between his legs and continued munching on his toast, ripping his second piece and handing a bit to Jackie.
“See you later,” John said as he led Sherlock out by the hand.
“Bye!” Greg called after them. “So Jackie said another word, huh?” Greg asked Mycroft after a moment.
“Yes, did Sherlock show you?”
“Well, Jackie kind of screamed it when they entered the kitchen,” Greg chuckled.
“She was quite excited,” Mycroft agreed.
“You both were, I’m sure.”
“Indeed.”
Greg picked up the tray when they were both done, putting on the floor beside the bed. “So, what now?” he asked.
“See where the future takes us, one moment at a time?”
“Sounds good to me.”

Chapter Text

Greg rubbed his hands together against the brisk spring air as he waited for someone to answer the door.
“Da!” Charlie, Greg’s twelve-year-old son cried, swinging the front door open. “Happy Easter!”
“Thanks Charlie, you too,” he said. “Where’s Alice?”
“Mum’s helping her pack her bag. She said they’ll be down in a couple minutes.”
“And where’s David today?” David was his ex, Sarah’s, new husband.
“David’s gone out to pick up food for Monday.” It was late Saturday afternoon, and Greg and Mycroft would have the kids until Monday morning.
“Ah. And how was school this week?”
“Good, we learned about oxymorons in English. One of the kids in my class called another kid an oxymoron and he got angry and told the teacher. It was pretty funny.”
“That does sound pretty funny,” Greg agreed, smiling at Alice as she appeared at the front entrance. “Hi, love,” he said.
“Daddy!” she cried, rushing to wrap her arms around him.
“Happy Easter,” he said.
“Happy Easter!” she replied.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“Yup!” Greg took Alice’s bag from Sarah, slinging Charlie’s over his shoulder.
“You’ll pick them up Monday morning?” he asked Sarah.
“Yes, I’ll text you Sunday night to confirm.”
“Okay, Happy Easter,” he said. When they had first divorced, Greg had been angry at Sarah because of her cheating, but over the years he had become rather indifferent. Finding Mycroft had helped him in that regard.
“You too,” she said with a small smile. Greg ushered his children out the door, loading them and their bags into his car. On the drive to his and Mycroft’s flat, Charlie and Alice caught Greg up on all he had missed in the last week. When they got to the flat, Greg unloaded the car while Charlie and Alice raced inside, quite familiar with the layout. Greg had moved into Mycroft’s flat as soon as they had returned to London and, in the few months between then and now, they had had Charlie and Alice over a number of times.
Greg could hear Mycroft talking as he approached the door to the flat.
“How was school this week?” Greg heard Mycroft ask through the door. Greg walked through the door, putting Charlie and Alice’s bag in the room they shared when they were staying at the flat. As he was exiting he saw Jackie come tottering towards him. She had started walking in the past few months, much to Mycroft’s chagrin. It was much harder to catch a running baby than a scooching baby when she put her mind to it.
“Hello!” Greg exclaimed, swinging her up into his arms and kissing her on the cheek. “Have you been causing trouble?”
“Papa!” she cried. She had also started that in the last few months. It had started with a ‘pa’ that Greg insisted was just a noise she made, but after that Mycroft had taken to calling him papa when talking to Jackie, and she had picked up on it. “Papa down,” she continued.
“Alright, if you insist.” He put her on her feet, watching her run back towards the kitchen where Mycroft and the kids were. Greg followed her, smiling at the sight of Mycroft peeling potatoes at the counter, Charlie and Alice sat on the benches watching him and keeping up a constant chatter.
Jackie tottered up to Alice’s bench. “Up!” she said imperiously. Alice leaned over without hesitation and picked her up mid-sentence, putting Jackie on her lap.
“-and then my teacher gave the boy detention,” Alice finished her story.
“Well, it sounds like he deserved it,” Mycroft chuckled as he started peeling carrots. Looking up, he smiled at Greg. “Hello, Gregory. I put the ham in an hour ago like you told me to.”
“Hi, love,” Greg went and wrapped his arms around Mycroft from behind. “Thanks for peeling and getting everything ready. I’ll take over from here.”
“I gladly pass the reins over to you,” Mycroft said, moving to the side so Greg could take over cooking. “I shall go set the table.” Mycroft gathered plates from the cupboard and went into the dining room.
“Anybody want to help their old man?” Greg asked, turning towards where his children were sitting.
“Sure,” Charlie said, hopping off his bench.
“I think I’ll just watch,” Alice said.
“Alright, let’s get those potatoes boiling so we can mash them,” Greg said. “Fill the pot with water and put it on the stove, please.”
“’Kay.” Charlie did as instructed, wobbling slightly under the weight of the pot but managing to get it on the stove without spilling a drop.
“Great, now cut these carrots in half and get them on the stove as well.”
Again, Charlie did as told, putting the pot on the last burner.
“Thanks, Charlie. Alice and Jackie, would you like to toss the salad?”
“Sure,” Alice said. Greg slid the bowl, tongs and pre-made salad towards Alice. Standing Jackie on her lap, Alice reached forward and opened the plastic salad container, dumping the contents into the bowl. Picking up the spoons, Alice dug them into the salad, Jackie leaning back so that Alice supported her and trying to grab the spoons as well. Alice brought the spoons closer to Jackie, dragging the bowl to the edge of the counter. Together they mixed the salad, Jackie giggling delightedly in Alice’s lap.
Jackie’s giggles were cut short by the doorbell ringing.
“Doe!” she cried.
“Yes, thank you, Jackie. Alice, would you like to get the door with her? That should be Sherlock and John.”
“Sure,” Alice said, hopping off the stool with Jackie in her arms. She went to the front door and opened it. “Hi John, Hi Sherlock,” she said, grinning up at them.
“Lok! Joh!” Jackie cried happily.
“Hi Alice, hi Jackie,” John said. “Happy Easter!”
“Happy Easter!” Alice responded, moving aside so they could come in.
“We brought dessert,” Sherlock said, lifting the bag he was holding.
“What’d you bring?” Alice asked as she trailed them into the kitchen.
“Chocolate cake,” Sherlock responded.
“Yay!” Alice responded, grinning toothily at Sherlock.
“My sentiments exactly,” Sherlock replied, putting the bag on the counter as they entered the kitchen.
“Happy Easter,” Greg greeted them. “What’d you bring for dessert?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sherlock answered at the same time as Alice, who shouted “Chocolate cake!”
“Chocolate cake?” Mycroft asked as he entered the kitchen.
“Yes, we brought one just for you and one for the rest of us to share.”
Mycroft opened his mouth to deliver a no-doubt scathing response, but Greg cut him off.
“Play nice, both of you. You’re setting a bad example for the children. Alice, give Jackie to Sherlock, she seems to cheer him up.”
“As if a child could change my mood,” Sherlock scoffed, accepting Jackie into his arms and nuzzling slightly into her hair.
“Jackie makes me feel happy,” Alice said as she stood beside Sherlock.
‘Yes well you are a child yourself. You don’t count.”
“Okay, that’s enough. The ham is just about done,” Greg interrupted, leaning down to peek in the oven. “Everyone grab a dish and bring it into the dining room. I’ll be in quickly with the ham.”
Sherlock brought Jackie into the dining room, sitting her in her high chair. He sat down beside her at the head of the table. As Mycroft entered with the mashed potatoes, he shot Sherlock a look. “A couple seats down if you please, brother. I will sit beside my daughter at the head of the table.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes but moved to the other side of Jackie. The rest of the family trooped in, each carrying a bowl or platter with food on it. They assembled in their seats around the table, Alice beside Sherlock, Charlie beside her at the other end of the table, and John and an empty seat on the other side of the table. Greg came in a moment later, putting down the ham and taking his seat.
“Alright everyone, dig in,” he said with a smile around the table, passing plates around. Everyone loaded up their plates, save Sherlock who only took a small helping of mashed potatoes and ham. Mycroft cut up bite-sized pieces of ham and carrots, putting them on the tray of Jackie’s booster seat. She picked up the pieces between two fingers, putting them in her mouth and humming happily.
The meal passed quickly, conversation flowing as food disappeared. Dessert followed, Sherlock making minimal remarks about Mycroft’s weight. Jackie was allowed a sliver and gleefully spread the chocolate over her face, arms, the tray of her high chair, and anyone within reach of her sticky fingers, including both Mycroft and Sherlock.
John and Sherlock bid the family goodnight shortly after they had finished eating and Mycroft got Jackie down for the night quickly after that. Ten o’clock found Mycroft and Greg in the sitting room, hiding chocolate eggs and wrapping little Easter presents for each child.
“Probably don’t put eggs in the fireplace,” Greg said as he watched Mycroft look contemplatively into it.
“I wouldn’t turn it on,” Mycroft defended.
“Still, I don’t want kids rooting around in the fireplace, on or off.”
“Touché.” Mycroft wandered back towards the kitchen, bag of eggs still in hand.
“You know, you should put some out in the open too, don’t hide them all.”
“Right,” Mycroft said, coming back into the sitting room as Greg finished wrapping the last present.
“Are you excited for tomorrow?” Greg asked Mycroft.
“Yes, my first Easter with Jackie, and our first Easter. And my first Easter with your children.”
“And it’ll be great,” Greg said, wrapping his arm around Mycroft’s waist and pulling him close.
“I hope so,” he said softly.
“I know so.” Greg reached for the bag of eggs, unwrapping one and popping it in his mouth. He offered the bag to Mycroft, who took one and unwrapped it delicately before putting it in his mouth.
“Alright, let’s spread the rest of these out on every available surface and then call it a night,” Greg said, kissing Mycroft on the nose.
“You’re ridiculous,” Mycroft said in response to the kiss. Taking the bag from Greg, he poured half of the remaining eggs into Greg’s hands. “Last one to finish spreading out their eggs has to do the midnight feeding,” he said, running to start spreading his eggs.
“Cheater,” Greg chuckled good-naturedly, smacking Mycroft on the bottom as he flew past him to hide his own eggs. He decided to let Mycroft win and he would take the midnight shift.

The next morning, they were woken by delighted cries from the sitting room.
“I thought it was going to be Jackie first,” Greg groaned as he rolled out of bed. Glancing at the clock, he noted it was shortly past seven in the morning.
“Me too,” Mycroft agreed. “You go to the sitting room and I’ll check on Jackie?”
“Deal.”
Mycroft rolled out of bed and moved into Jackie’s room, opening the door gently and peering in. Jackie was on her back in her cot and cooed gently when she saw Mycroft enter.
“Da da da da,” she babbled, waving her hands in his direction.
“Hello beautiful, were you quiet so that daddy and papa could get more sleep this morning?” he asked as he lifted her out of the cot. He checked her nappy. “Ah, looks like we need a nappy change.” He laid her down on the changing table and unsnapped her onesie, changing her nappy with a practiced ease. Snapping her back into the onesie, Mycroft moved out to the sitting room, Jackie in his arms.
“The Easter bunny came!” Alice shrieked when she saw Mycroft.
“Wow!” Mycroft said. “And I see he left chocolate eggs for you and Charlie,” he continued.
“Yup!” Alice agreed. Earlier that year, one of Charlie’s classmates had revealed the Easter bunny and Santa weren’t real, but after a discussion, Charlie had agreed to play along so that Alice could still believe in the Easter bunny. Plus, he still got chocolate.
“Well, why don’t you each get your baskets and we’ll start this hunt,” Greg said. Both children scrambled to pick up the baskets that were sitting on the coffee table beside their presents. “And then we’ll do presents.” Alice whooped, picking up her basket and trembling with excitement.
“Alright, ready? One, two, three!” Both children raced off, quickly picking the eggs up off the visible surfaces before searching more in-depth.
“Da, down!” Jackie said, pushing at Mycroft’s arms.
“Do you want to find eggs, as well?” Mycroft asked as he put her on her feet, keeping hold of her hands to keep her steady. She happily chased after Alice and Charlie, Mycroft making sure she didn’t fall. Greg watched it all from his perch on the sofa, laughing and enjoying the view of his family having fun.
Finally, Charlie and Alice had found all the eggs and sat on the floor, adding them up and evening out their piles. It was a tradition that they had had for as long as they could remember; they could race to see who found the most eggs, but at the end they would split the eggs evenly to be fair. When they were done that, Alice’s head popped up.
“Presents?” she asked eagerly, curls falling into her face.
“Of course,” Mycroft chuckled. He plucked them off the table and passed them to their respective child.
Jackie tore into the paper covering her present without abandon. After getting a fistful of paper, she stuck part of it in her mouth,
“No! Jackie, don’t eat that!” Mycroft said, plucking the paper from her hand. Jackie’s lip jutted out and her mouth opened in preparation of a wail. “Look, Jackie,” Mycroft said, taking the wrapping off the rest of the present. Jackie’s impending cry was cut short as her attention was grabbed by the stuffed bunny being revealed. She let out a squeal as she reached forward, grasping onto the bunny’s soft fur. “That’s a rabbit,” Mycroft said gently as Jackie rubbed her face against the soft fur.
“’Bit,” she repeated, giggling softly.
“Alright Alice, you next,” Greg said and Alice opened her present with almost as much vigor as Jackie. She revealed a coloring book and new set of coloring pencils.
“Ooooh, thank you!” she squealed, hopping up to give both Greg and Mycroft hugs.
“You’re very welcome,” Mycroft said. “Charlie, your turn.”
Charlie carefully unwrapped his present, revealing a book about space.
“Cool, thanks!” he said, going and hugging both Mycroft and Greg.
“I’ll read through it later with you if you want,” Mycroft said. They had gotten Charlie a book that was a little more advanced, and figured it would be a good way for Mycroft and him to bond.
“That would be great,” Charlie said.
“Anyone ready for breakfast?” Greg asked. “Special pancakes for a special morning!”
As Charlie and Alice cheered and ran into the kitchen to help Greg, Mycroft sat for a moment, holding Jackie and reveling in the family that he was lucky to call his own.

Chapter Text

Just wanted to let those who are subscribed to this story know that I've made it a series and posted a second story in this universe. Enjoy! :D