Sherlock Oneshots and Drabbles

Feeling- Mycroft

Mycroft Holmes is, and always will be, a special case. His high intelligence and intimidating demeanor usually scared people off, except for you. Though Mycroft was such a special case, you were also one, maybe even more so than him. This drew you to him, and him to you. Your relationship began as a employer/employee relationship. Your job was much like Anthea's, except you stayed by his side more often. Soon enough, it had become a one-sided friendship. He didn't seem to care for you much, but then again, he didn't really seem to care for anyone; however, you cared deeply for him nonetheless. You may have also held an unrequited love for him, or so you thought.

Today, you sat in his office, watching as he carried on with paper work. It was quiet, as always.

"(Y/N)?" he uttered.

You meet his eyes, "Yes, Mr. Holmes?" He sighed, massaging his forehead with his fingers.

"Would you mind fetching my dear younger brother for me? He seems to listen to you more often than me," Mycroft asks tiredly. A smile stretches across your face as you nod. Though the younger Holmes often enjoyed causing trouble and refusing to cooperate, seeing him was one of your favorite jobs.

"On it," you tell Mycroft as you exit the room.

*~*~*

"Your brother wishes to see you, Holmes," you explain to Sherlock. He doesn't glance up from what he's doing.

"Tell him I'm busy," he mumbles. You sighed quietly, knowing this was going to happen. You bring yourself closer to Sherlock. You gently lift his head up with your fingers.

"Come on, Sherlock," you smile softly. He heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes, but still rises from his seat.

"I'll meet you at the car," he calls as he hops down the stairs. John stares at you in shock from the sidelines.

"How-How do you do that?" he asks in awe.

You laugh in reply, waving your hand passively, "Magic."

He laughs along with you, "Good luck."

You glance his way while leaving, "I'll bet I'll need it." You begin to hurry as you hear Sherlock call for you loudly.

*~*~*

You had got Sherlock to Mycroft, and you were already leaving Sherlock's flat after returning him. It had gone rather swimmingly if you had said so yourself, for the Holmes boys at least. The verbal fighting had been to a minimum, and Sherlock had accepted in the end. Afterwards, Mycroft was so worn out because of Sherlock, you were able to go home for an hour or so. You checked your phone for messages in the back of the cab you had switched into after dropping Sherlock off back at his flat. There was nothing. You had missed a call from (Sister/Brother) while you were with Mycroft. Your pulled away from your phone when you heard the screeching of tires on the asphalt. You look up just in time to be lurched forward, hitting your head on the seat in front of you. You could just barely make out sirens in the distance, and could smell smoke boring from the car. Everything went black.

*~*~*

"I should sue you, you know. Bloody reckless driver!" someone shouts.

"L-look mister! I'm sorry, but it wasn't my fault. The other car swerved into me!" a desperate voice replies.

Suddenly, a feminine voice shouts, "She's waking up!" You open your bleary eyes slowly, instantly closing them as the bright light burns your eyes. You open them once again, being met with three faces. One being a nurse, another being your cabbie, and the last being Mycroft Holmes.

"Listen, ma'am, I am so sorry. The other car swerved into the back of my car. I-I don't know what I could have done to stop it!" the man shouts in fear.

You furrow your brows, wondering why he would blame himself, "It's-It's fine. Nothing you could've done." The man seemed a bit scratched up himself. He had a cut on his forehead, a bruise surrounding it, his lip was swollen, and his arm was in a sling. After he had left, the doctors checked your vitals. They said you should be fine, but they wanted to keep you overnight to double check.

While you were out, the preformed surgery. You had stitches in your head since you cracked it open when you flew forward, a bone in your leg was near shattered, and you had a burn from the seat belt across your chest. Other than that, you only had a few minor cuts and bruises. They left the room quietly, leaving you to turn your attention to Mycroft. He hadn't said a word so far. However, he stayed by your bedside. There was silence in the room as you studied him.

"Your eyes are red," you noted, "And I heard you shouting at the cabbie." He rolls his eyes, encasing his head in his arms.

"I was worried about you, you idiotic goldfish," he mummers into his arms. You stare at him quizzically.

"Why? I just work for you. I'm sure you could find someone else in no time," you question.

"No, you aren't just an employee. I care for you," he explains, raising his head from his arms. You squint, eyebrows narrowing in confusion.

"I thought caring wasn't an advantage," you recite, only half joking.

He sighs in exhaustion, "Nor is it voluntary." A light blush spreads to your cheeks. He was correct.

"Wha-" Before you can interrogate him further, he interrupts you.

"My God, are you slow!" he exclaims. He swoops down to your lips, one hand gently cupping your face. He pulls away studying your face. You were completely dazed from what he could tell. You had wide eyes, mouth slightly agape. Your face could also rival a firetruck. You sat there doing nothing, staring into space. You were in shock, you needed one of those blankets. His eyebrows furrow in concern when he notices how frantic the heart rate monitor is.

*EXTENDED ENDING*

"(Y/N)?" Nothing.

"(Y/N)," still nothing. Before anything else can happen, your eye lids slip shut and you yank him down to you by his tie. You pull away after a moment, staring at your handiwork. He had fallen into a shock like yours, except a little more put together. You hum quietly in approval. This relationship was going to be interesting.