When you entered Mycroft's home, you didn't expect that anything was amiss. You often came in to drop off important files as well as food. Mycroft had a bad habit of not eating at regular intervals. It wasn't until you heard noises upstairs that you felt something was off. It wasn't like Mycroft to be home in the middle of the afternoon. That's why you were one of the few people that actually had a key to his house.

You quietly tiptoed up the stairs after grabbing the nearest thing that could work as a weapon. You made your way toward the noises until you reached the partially open door. You could make out Mycroft straightening his usually well-kept appearance as he spoke quietly to someone. When the person responded, you felt something akin to a punch to your gut. Lady Smallwood.

Mycroft and Sherlock would both call you ridiculous, but your heart was breaking. You held yourself back from running. Instead you walked back down the stairs, keeping your footsteps light and quiet. Once downstairs, you picked up your files again and walked to the door. You opened and closed it again, this time making enough noise so that Mycroft would know you were there.

Tears threatened to overcome you as you walked toward the table you always put files on. You reached it just as Mycroft and Lady Smallwood appeared at the top of the stairs. "Oh, good afternoon, Y/N. You have files for me, I presume?" Mycroft asked, but you could tell by his voice that he had something else he wanted to say. So you plastered on a smile and greeted him as warmly as possible. "I do. Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes. Lady Smallwood." Mycroft gave you a look that said the two of you needed to talk. You weren't surprised. Outside of his work space, you never called him "Mr. Holmes", especially since you didn't actually work for him.

Lady Smallwood greeted you warmly before leaving the house. That made it worse. If she had been unkind to you ever, you could at least hate her. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Once Lady Smallwood was out of sight, Mycroft turned you with that look that said he was deducing you.

"Don't do that," you stated, trying to keep the edge from your voice. You needed to get out of there as soon as possible. "You are upset." You stiffened slightly, hoping he wouldn't notice. Of course he did. He noticed everything. "I asked you not to do that. I'm not upset, Mycroft." Again, he arched a brow. "You clearly are. What I am uncertain of is why you are..." he trailed off as tears began to fill your eyes. At least he knew when to stop.

"It doesn't matter. Now, here are your files. I'll leave now and let you return to your limited leisure time. I'm sure you weren't finished." Something in your voice must have given your feelings away because a look of understanding passed across Mycroft's face.

"You're jealous. What reason have you to be jealous? My leisure activities pose no consequences to you, so I don't see why it matters. It is quite a pointless emotion. Just as sentiment is." You shook your head, willing your tears to stay down. You couldn't cry in front of him. It would only prove his point. It wasn't even that you were upset. You were embarrassed. As you willed your emotions to stay in check, Mycroft rambled on in the background as he tried to piece together why you were feeling the way you were. It went on and on until you finally couldn't take it any longer and you just...burst.

"It's because I love you! That's why it matters!" you shouted, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. Mycroft merely stared at you until you couldn't handle it. You quickly bid him goodbye and fled from the house to your car. You didn't look back, but managed to get your tears under control before you took off down the street. You needed to get away from there as soon as possible.

Once you made it home, you didn't leave again for the rest of the day. You ignored your calls, texts, and emails unless there were directly from your employer. You shut yourself away, hoping to ride out the waves of embarrassment that kept crashing over you again and again. You didn't know how you would ever face Mycroft again.

It was a well known fact that Mycroft had very little use for any type of emotion. He made it very clear. He also made it clear how he thought of people that weren't on the same intellectual level as he was. Goldfish, he called them. You. He had no time for any type of real relationship with goldfish. Unfortunately, that's what you wanted from him. Something real. That was what Mycroft wouldn't give you. Or maybe he couldn't. Maybe he was afraid to. You didn't know. What you did know was that it didn't matter. None of the facts you knew changed how you felt about the man.

You stayed in your home, wrapped in your fluffiest blanket and binge watching Netflix well into the night. It wasn't what you'd envisioned, but it was quiet and peaceful. So imagine your surprise when your bell sounded somewhere close to midnight.

Confused, you rose from your place on the sofa and made your way to the door. Peeking through the peep hole, you were surprised to see Mycroft standing on the other side. You pulled the door open as quickly as possible and stared at him. "Close your mouth, Y/N." You snapped your mouth closed.

"Why are you here? Not that I'm not pleased to see you, but I wasn't expecting you." Mycroft's eyes flickered over your pajama-clad form as they sparkled in amusement. "Clearly." You rolled your eyes before moving aside to let him in. "So, why are you here?" you asked again.

"I came because of your little confession this afternoon." You felt your skin heat up. "Mycroft, forget it. I-I wasn't in my right mind. Like you said, jealousy is pointless." You met his gaze again and to your surprise, he looked slightly distressed. "Did you not mean it then?" You blinked, unsure how to answer. "I-I did. You know I did, Mycroft. One look at me would have told you I wasn't lying."

"And you were jealous of Lady Smallwood." You nodded. "You needn't be." You sighed and nodded once more. "Yes. I know. As you said, it's pointless." Mycroft shook his head. "That isn't what I meant. Not entirely. Yes, it is pointless, but not for the reason you think. What happened between Lady Smallwood and I has been purely physical. I don't, that is, my feelings for her cannot begin to compare to my feelings for you. I simply didn't believe you could have those sort of feelings for someone like me. It is no secret that I believe sentiment is a weakness. Or I did before you captured my attention so thoroughly."

You stared at him for a moment. "D-Do you mean that?" Mycroft scoffed lightly. "You of all people should know that I do not say things I do not mean. So believe me when I say that I feel something for you that I have never felt for anyone else before." It wasn't the same as saying that he loved you, but it was as close as you would get, at least for now, and you knew that. So, you stepped closer to him and took his hands in yours.

"I love you, Mycroft Holmes," you whispered before raising your head up a little and pressing your lips to his in a soft and gentle kiss. He slowly wrapped his arms around you when you pulled back from the kiss. "I believe I may love you," he replied softly.