Author's note: Sorry for the break in updates and for the shortness of the chapter. Now that my life's a bit less hectic I can update more often and write longer chapters. I have some ideas for the story. So if you're still interested in reading more let me know. As always all reviews and comments are appreciated.

All the visiting she did bought Carolyn a fortnight of peace and quiet. Or so she thought. Or rather, hoped.

In truth the peace didn't even last the hole week. Sometime in that first week of her supposed holiday Sherlock started breaking into her house. Hers was a small two story building in a raw of identical structures. Most of her neighbours were pensioners or newlywed couples just starting their lives together. Not much happened that street. So when she was waked in the middle of the night by Igor's report of a break in she was surprised.

What did not surprise her was Sherlock Holmes sitting at her kitchen table sipping her favourite Rooibos blend from her best Wedgewood set.

The damn man was enough of an immature brat to see a challenge in what she told him when she visited him last.

She dropped the stun gun she had pointed at him and slumped into a chair across the table from the man.

They had a sort of staring contest and then she banged her head on the table.

'You're impossible' she told him 'you know, you could have simply rung the doorbell, or called'

'Where would be the fun in that' he replied with the most stoic expression she ever saw on a man. But then his lip twitched. Most people would miss it but Carolyn was quite observant in her own right. She couldn't help but think his brother would have never allowed himself such an obvious display of emotion. Well, obvious to some.

'Pour me a cup, you twit, it's the least you can do' she muttered, annoyed that she was losing sleep because of him.

The insufferable git had a cup prepared for her. She sighed tiredly and tried not to wander how he managed to prepare tea so quickly after breaking in, if this was his first time at her place.

God, she hoped it was. It didn't do much for her confidence in her security system, if she thought he could break n at will and not trigger her alarms. Glancing suspiciously at him she thought if this was Mycroft Holmes showing her he had her security compromised.

'Tell me, how did you get in?' she asked, now irritated.

He smiled thinly and pulled out a set of keys from his coat pocket. It dangled on one thin finger.

'I nicked these from your purse the last time' he smirked. Ugh, the man was infuriating.

Those were her keys. She thought she lost them. She should have known better. She put her hand out. 'I want them back' she said flatly.

He returned them without protest. She was satisfied for a second. Then her brain kicked in and her relieved smile vanished.

'You had other sets made, haven't you?' she asked resignedly.

'Of course' was his instant reply.

'You know i can have the locks replaced, it's not that... oh, why bother! You'll just nick those too' she sipped on her tea. Just the way she liked it. Lots of sugar no milk. She put her cup back in its saucer, disgusted with herself.

His only reply was a raised eyebrow. What was with those eyebrows and the Holmes'? That had to be bloody genetic!

She looked him in the eye, now completely serious.

'What do you want Sherlock? I know you don't pay social calls, and if you do now, all of a sudden, surely there's a better time to come around than the middle of the bloody night.' She said flatly.

He shuffled in his seat, as if making himself more comfortable. His long fingers played with the delicate cup.

She groaned. She wasn't in the best state of mind at 3 am in the morning, with less than 4 hours of sleep. Certainly not awake enough to do this whole 'Holmes-wants-now!' thing. The man was a damn child.

'Oh, God! I'm not giving you the grand tour of my house at 3 in the bloody morning!' Carolyn said as she sprung to her feet.

'I'm going back to bed. Come back at a more reasonable time'

It took Her roughly half an hour to realize he wasn't going away. She lay in bed, trying to fall asleep while he sat in an armchair by her window, looking on as if nothing was amiss.

It was creepy how he was not at all ill at ease in her bedroom.

She finally lost her nerve and threw a pillow at his head. It landed at his feet with a soft 'thump'.

She wasn't looking but she knew. 'Stop it with the eyebrow. It pisses me off' she muttered into her duvet. He responded with silence.

'Ugh' she could almost hear the offending part of his facial anatomy moving upwards.

'Besides, sod off, would you?' she mumbled tiredly.

'Not until I get what I came here for' he replied, his voice clearly and loudly conveying his boredom.

'So what? You're going to just sit here and wait till I get up to show you around?!' She demanded disbelieving. His only reply was a small shrug. Then silence. Again.

Carolyn gave a grunt of despair and gave up. She reached for her PerCy and selected a number she hacked into not a full two weeks ago. The call was answered on the second signal.

'Yes?' A terse, irritated voice demanded.

'My apologies for the late call, but I believe I have something of yours and I would like you to come and pick it up' she said tiredly.

'Miss Smithson?' the voice sounded surprised. She smiled weakly. She shouldn't have this number. Only a handful of people did. Plus, it was not given to her voluntarily. She stole it. IGOR hacked it while she drank tea and enjoyed some cake.

'Yes. And I apologise for hacking your phone. I promise I didn't take more than the number. I'll explain in detail some other time but for now please come take him away' She begged shamelessly. She was past caring. 'Him?' He enquired. 'Hello brother dear' Sherlock piped in.

'Sherlock? What are you doing at Miss Smithson's house? And at this hour?' he demanded.

'Negotiating' was Sherlock's only reply.

'I shall be there shortly' promised Mycroft Holmes and hung up.

She opened the door as he was about to ring the bell. She was tired. It was 4 in the morning. He was fully dressed and did not at all look any worse for the wear. She was dressed in only her nightgown. Despite the unpleasant circumstance Mycroft could not help but admire her petite and slender figure. It was so nicely outlined by the thin fabric. He could not help but notice that the autumn wind she let into her house along with him chilled her. A certain part of her anatomy responded accordingly and the delicate fabric did nothing to hide her reaction. In turn he felt his body stir. It took him a moment to regain his composure and so he busied himself with his umbrella.

'I've come to relieve you of my brother's unwanted company' he finally said.

'He's waiting in the kitchen. Feel free to take him away. I'm going back to bed. I'll call tomorrow and we can schedule something' she said and turned to go back to her bedroom.

Mycroft's gaze trailed after her. Usually he'd be interrogating her or at least demanding explanation but with Carolyn Smithson he was sure she would call and so he let her go back to bed. At the same time he tried to tell himself it had nothing to do with the way her hips swayed as she marched back to her room. With the way her long her fell down her back accentuating her curves.

Mycroft never thought of himself as a passionate man. But she stirred something in his blood. He just didn't yet know if it was good or bad.

His brother passed him on his way to the door.

'Brother dear be careful or you will end up wrapped around her little finger'

Mycroft scoffed offended.

He wasn't that sort of man.

But he was still a man and all the way back in the car he thought of the pale expanse of a thigh a flimsy little nightgown could expose.