"Thank you again, Mycroft, for going all the way to America with me for Christmas."
"You act as if it was such a bother. I truly had an enjoyable time. I wish holidays with my family were that pleasant."
"My father was on surprisingly good behavior this week. Amazingly so, in fact. He must really like you. Either that, or my mother threatened him within an inch of his life."
"I'm sure, my dear, that it was my charm and not your mother's threats." Mycroft said with a grin as he held Sophia close in the foyer of her flat. He'd walked in with her to carry her bags and had his driver waiting downstairs.
"Yes, of course, I'm sure it was," she said with an equally cheeky grin. "So, back to work for you?"
"For a few days. But I promised Mother and Father I'd go visit them New Year's Eve and stay over. I wondered—would you join me?"
She grinned. "So, I'll still be meeting your parents this holiday?"
"That's my plan, if you find it acceptable."
"I'd love to, Mycroft. Thank you for inviting me."
"Of course, love. You're the most important thing in my life, I want you to be a part of everything that is my life."
Sophia smiled warmly, not quite able to believe the words that had just came out of Mycroft's mouth. "That might be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."
Mycroft's face went straight, and he spoke in a dry tone. "Yes, I'm going to have to go think through my next great romantic compliment now. It shall take me days to work out something to top that one." He then dropped the act and smiled wide. "Truly, though—I'm so happy, Sophia. Happy I got to meet your family. Happy to have you in my life and get to celebrate the coming of the New Year with you. And happy to spend the next year and hopefully many more with you."
"I'm happy too, Mycroft, I—" suddenly a huge yawn escaped Sophia's mouth. And she blinked a few times when it finally finished. "Oh, my goodness, I'm sorry about that."
He let out a chuckle. "Don't apologize. It was a long flight and coming back across the time zones is even more treacherous. You should take it easy tomorrow—it's going to hit you even harder then."
Sophia nodded. "I'm so glad I took plenty of time off."
"As am I. Call me when you're up tomorrow morning and we'll discuss arrangements for our travel over New Years, alright?"
Another nod, but this time Sophia leaned into him and went up to her tip toes to engage him in a long deep kiss. By the end, she was leaned back against the door and he was leaning into her, one hand pressing into the door beside her head, holding up his weight, while the other rested at the nape of her neck. When the kiss broke, they both breathed in deeply and he gave her another soft smile. "Good night, Sophia."
"Good night, Mycroft."
****
"Mother, Father, may I introduce Sophia Cartwright, one of Scotland Yard's finest."
"A police officer?" Mr. Holmes questioned.
"No sir, a digital forensic specialist."
Mr. Holmes nodded, and Mrs. Holmes just continued to eye her for a moment before finally speaking. "And an American."
"Yes, ma'am. I moved to London almost two years ago."
"And when do you intend on returning to your home country?" The question held disdain that Sophia had prepared herself for. Not only had Mycroft warned her, but Sherlock had even visited her office at the Yard when he learned of Mycroft's invitation to her for New Years. She'd been shocked by the younger Holmes brother's concern for her wellbeing and felt the need to warn her of his mother's ability to use words like the sharpest of blades to cut deep into a person's psyche.
"Permanently? I don't intend to. England is my home now. I love this country, and its people. In five to six years I hope to become a British citizen."
Mycroft monitored the conversation carefully, ready to jump in should his mother go too far. Sophia, however, had asked him to give her a chance at handling herself before he stepped in. They had discussed her long-term plans for remaining in England previously. It was six months into their relationship, a year after moving to England, that she'd voiced her desire to one day become a citizen. As it stood, she'd have to wait till she'd lived in the UK for at least five years and become considered a permanent resident. However, he knew there were other options—one that he'd hoped might be an eventual option.
"I see," his mother said, slightly warmer in her response. "I'm preparing snacks for the celebration later; would you assist me?"
Sophia smiled. "Of course, Mrs. Holmes. I'd be happy to."
Mycroft watched as his mother turned and headed for the kitchen. His father glanced up at him with raised eyebrows, as if to express his equal hope that things would go well. "I'll help you with the luggage, son," he said before taking one of the bags from Mycroft's hands.
"That is Sophia's—it should go to the guest room."
"I had assumed it was hers, based on its color. Last I checked you weren't fond of carrying around purple luggage."
Mycroft smirked. "No, but you'll soon learn that Sophia is fond of anything purple."
"I see. She seems very kind, Mycroft, just as you said. Seems to be able to handle herself well, also."
"Yes, she's very capable, and also very kind. I believe Mummy may have met her match," Mycroft said quietly as he followed his father up the stairs to the rooms.
"Hmm, should be interesting."
****
That night Sophia sat comfortably next to Mycroft on the sofa, his arm around her shoulders, her hand resting gently on his knee. His parents sat in chairs opposite as they all watched the London New Year's show. As the 10 second countdown began, Mycroft watched as Sophia's lips ghosted the count. As Big Ben struck midnight and the fireworks began, her eyes went wide, and even more so when after about thirty seconds the music began in full force. She gasped in a breath as her eyes took in the sight.
He squeezed her hand and leaned down. "Happy new year, love."
She smiled and pulled her eyes away from the screen long enough to look up at him. "Happy new year, Mycroft."
"Perhaps next year," he whispered to her as he looked back to the screen with her, "we could watch live from the city."
Her eyes lit up. "That would be amazing. It's—amazing."
"I'd forgotten that you worked New Year's Eve as well last year and missed this."
She nodded, but her eyes now remained transfixed on the screen. "It's remarkable," she whispered. "It reminds me of..." she faded out.
As songs changed her smile only grew wider. Mycroft saw in that moment a bit of child-like wonder and joy in his girlfriend and determined in that moment that come hell or high water, next New Year's Eve, he would have the best seats available for her to watch the show. He was so proud of her. Just as he'd hoped and dreamed, she'd won over his mother in a remarkable feat.
He saw the tears pooling in her eyes as the previously high rpm music went to classical/operatic. She felt everything deeply, and it was that deep emotion that had 'cracked his shell' as John Watson had once described it. Then as the music went back to an electronic fast beat, he smiled as her toes, fingers, and head all seemed to find the rhythm of the music.
When the celebration on TV had ended, they said goodnight to Mycroft's parents before he turned to her and asked, "Would you like a cup of chamomile to help you settle down to sleep?"
She smiled. "How did you guess?"
He led her towards the kitchen where she sat at a small table and watched as he prepared the kettle and dropped tea bags in two mugs. "You were quite engaged in watching the celebration tonight. I imagined you might have a difficult time falling to sleep after such an event."
"I've seen the London fireworks before, from my computer. I used to watch it and dream that one day I'd be living in England. And here I am. It's still hard to believe sometimes that I've made it this far."
"You worked very hard to get to where you are. I'm pleased your dreams were to move here or I might never have met you."
"Even if meeting me was because your brother had me attempting to break into your phone without realizing it was yours?"
"It's not your fault that he led you to believe it belonged to a criminal." He smiled. "I'll never forget coming into your lab that first day. You surrounded by computers and all manner of technology. You were quite in your element and I was quite out of mine."
"You don't give yourself enough credit. You know your way around a computer."
"I was referring to conversing with you. The technology didn't intimidate me—you did."
"Me? Intimidate you? That's hard to believe."
"Yes, it was equally as difficult for me to understand at the time. Which is why I knew there was something different about you." A moment later he sat across from her and set her tea mug in front of her. "I have a surprise for you. I'd thought I'd give it to you in the morning, but since we have this moment of quiet, perhaps now."
"A surprise?"
He nodded leaned back in his chair, crossing his leg so that one ankle was propped on the other knee. After taking a sip of his tea he asked, "I've made arrangements for our Valentines weekend, if you're amenable."
"Oh? What are the arrangements?"
"A weekend in the Scottish Highlands."
Her eyes grew wide. "R-really?"
"I thought it was high time you see another part of this beautiful island, particularly the mountainous part, seeing how much you—"
Suddenly she'd jumped up and come to him, quickly grabbing and setting his tea down on the table and falling into his arms. "Oh, Mycroft. I can't believe you sometimes."
"Is that a yes?"
"Of course, it is," she said as she settled into his lap for a moment and smiled at him. "You do remember that you don't have to buy me fancy things or take me on fancy trips to earn my love—don't you?"
"Yes, I do. But I enjoy doing so—I love the look of complete joy on your face when I've gotten it right and found something you truly love. I love being able to give you experiences that you've always wanted. I love being able to make your dreams come true."
"You, Mycroft, are my dream come true. The rest is just icing on the cake."
****
The next morning Sophia sat at the table with Mycroft and Mrs. Holmes. "Where's your father at this morning?" she asked as she took her first sip of coffee.
"On his morning walk, I'd assume."
"He should be back any moment," Mrs. Holmes commented and as if on cue, the front door opened.
"I'm back! I haven't missed breakfast, have I?" Mr. Holmes called out as he slipped his coat off and hung it on the coat rack.
"Almost. Now come on before your coffee gets cold," his wife called back to him.
Soon he came in, a warm smile on his face. "I've brought a little something for the lovely ladies in our life." He slipped one hand out from behind his waist and set a small, handpicked bouquet of daisies before his wife. "Daisies for my heart." He then pulled the other hand out and set before Sophia a bunch of fresh purple lavender. "And sweet lavender for my son's."
Sophia's eyes lit up. "Oh, Mr. Holmes—thank you!" she said as she lifted the lavender to her nose and smelled it.
Mycroft smiled and glanced to his father who winked at him. His father always was the easier going between his parents, but still—Sophia Cartwright seemed to soothe all members of the Holmes family. It made him consider a thought that'd he'd kept out of mind till then. He only allowed it a moment before he filed it away, not wanting to worry over it in such a happy moment.