I'm not a Goldfish, Mycroft Holmes

Alice please.

Mycroft dialled her number again with a frown.
"Hey," the message said, "its me, I'm unable to take your call right now, if you could leave a message that would be great, I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
Mycroft frowned and pressed the red hang up button on his phone, tossing it on his desk. He hasn't heard from her in three days, but admittedly it was his fault, he acted inappropriately at the function, instead of introducing her as his equal he showed her off like she was a trophy he acquired. Did he feel bad about it? Yes actually, quite bad. And he felt that no amount of flowers he sent or jewelry he has delivered will fix it.

On the other end Alice is sitting on the couch, eating a bowl of instant pasta when her phone rings again, its Mycroft, but shes not ready to talk to him just yet. She's forgiven him already but, it was hard to pick up the phone. She was still trying to figure out what to do with the flowers.
Finishing her dinner she went to the sink and rinsed her bowl, her phone dinged with a text while she put the bowl in the dishwasher. Wiping her hands on a dish towel she picks up the phone and reads it.
(Will you please talk to him? -SH)
She put her phone down again and walked into the bathroom, getting ready for a shower.

Escaping the steam filled bathroom, Alice tightened her towel around herself while trying to balance the wrapped towel on her head, keeping her wet hair from dripping down her body. Checking her phone she had several messages from Sherlock.
(Alice please. -SH)
(Spare me the annoyance and talk to him. -SH)
(Alice, you're killing me, I hope you know that. -SH)
(Alice! -SH)

Alice chuckled at the messages and pressed her phone to her mouth, biting her lip she pulled up her contacts and pressed Mycroft's name, leaving a text.
(Sorry for the silence, I'm not mad, the door is open. -AJ)

Mycroft's hand rested on the doorknob, he held a flower bouquet of red roses and baby's breath, in the other hand. He wondered what he would walk in to, Alice was the first person he cared about more than on a family level, even if the thought of sentiment made him cringe still.
He opened the door and stepped inside, she was sitting on the couch in her pyjamas watching the telly.
"More flowers?" She questioned, getting up from the couch to take them from him.
"You deserve them," he pulled his mouth into a smile, placing his umbrella in the holder. He looked around the room and had to admit the amount of flowers he ordered was extensive, he swore there were enough in her living room to qualify as a small florist shop.
After she had put them in another vase, he worked up enough nerve to walk up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist. She was startled at first but the warmth radiating off his body calmed her nerves. This was new, this was a very new thing, she liked it admittedly so, except for the cold tie pin against the back of her head.
"I'm sorry, about the other night."
"How does that taste coming out of your mouth?" She asked with a sly smile.
"Like acid." Was his response, he turned her around, tilting her chin up with his finger, "I really am sorry."
"You are forgiven," she said, loosening his tie. She wriggled out of his grip and grabbed a couple glasses and a bottle of brandy.
"You want a drink?"
"Please."

At some point Alice had fallen asleep during what was, in Mycroft's opinion, a terrible movie. He figured he should probably go but he couldn't leave her on the couch nor did he think he had the strength to carry her to her bedroom and he wasn't sure about what kind of person he'd be greeted with when he woke her up. But not seeing another option he decided to wake her up.
He tucked her hair behind her ear and gave her a gentle pat on the face, she groaned and poorly swatted his hand away. He tried again, her eyes opened slowly and she squinted at Mycroft.
"Where are my glasses?" Was the first thing she asked. Mycroft bent forward and picked her glasses up off the coffee table, he cleaned them for her before she put them on.
"Thank you, Mikey."
She glanced at the clock on her wall, it was well after one in the morning.
"My its late." She said.
"Yes it is, I should probably go."
"Or you could stay." She whispered.
Mycroft chortled and made a move to protest but her hand on his thigh trapped his words in his throat.
"Please, its late. I'm sure you're driver is at home asleep by now, he probably figured you were staying the night."
"Do you want me to stay?"
"We shared a suite in Paris and your nervous about spending the night with me?"
"It was different then." His eyebrows furrowed at something she said, "and I am not, nervous."
"Mm-hm," she put her head back on his shoulder.
"So what happened in the movie?"
"They all sang and danced around, I don't think I'll ever get the image of John Travolta in a fat suit out of my brain."
Alice chuckled, "and you said you'd hate it."
"I did, I really did."
"Its a good movie!" She whined playfully, "I could've made you watch the original," she mumbles.
"Theres another one of those...things?"
"Yes." She rubbed the tip of her nose a little on his chest, "what should we watch next?"
"Nothing,"
"C'mon Mikey its a sleepover." She pouts.
No matter how many times Mycroft tries to keep his walls from falling down she comes in with a sledge hammer.
"Fine, I will...sit through another one."
"Yay!" Alice jumped off the couch, she walked over to the telly and opened the cabinet, bending straight down in the process, ass in the air and she was in tiny shorts no less. Mycroft had to close his eyes, damn woman. Why did he have a feeling she was trying to rile him up, make him do something completely out of his character. Don't get him wrong, he would like to have her but now is definitely not the right time.
After Alice sat back down he was greeted by a Disney title card.
"You're kidding?"
"Afraid not." She said, curling up against him.
"This is torturous, Alice, truly."
"Suck it up, buttercup," was all she said before turning her head back to the screen. Listening to the narrator talk about The Beasts curse, and then it was quickly followed by a rooster and-
"Oh God," Mycroft rubbed his face, "not more singing."