[Shen Xia] Britannia Rose

After saying good night to Mrs. Holmes politely, Isabella carried the plate of gingerbread biscuits up the stairs.

White chocolate and dark chocolate are used to draw naive smiling faces on the biscuits, and the icing is dotted like white snow on the edge of the plate. The biscuits are very crispy. Of course, it seems to cater to McCaw's taste, and there is plenty of sugar.

Isabella hesitated for a while, then gently pushed open the door of the second bedroom.

This is a simple and cozy room. There is a bright floor-to-ceiling window facing the door. The elegant and retro dark brown curtains have a low-key and restrained magnificence. When you walk in, you will find that there are exquisite dark flowers pressing on it.

In the center is a soft and clean bed. It can be seen that Mrs. Holmes attaches great importance to Christmas. Not only is there a miniature Christmas tree on the table, even the bed sheets are specially changed into red and green Christmas special styles. .

She walked in a few steps, and besides the densely packed books on the bookshelves, what surprised her the most was a cello quietly placed in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

At the same time, the sound of rushing water from the bathroom stopped abruptly, and Isabella subconsciously turned around.

The man was wearing a dark gray velvet nightgown, and the small piece of exposed skin on his chest was covered with dripping water, as if being melted by the warm steam from the bathroom, his gray-blue eyes, which were as indifferent as icebergs, stared lazily. Misty misty water vapor.

I am used to seeing Mycroft's well-dressed and rigorous attire. At this moment, he wondered if it was because he was a little more casual when he returned to his parents' house. Even the belt of the nightgown was tied lazily, loosely, as if walking Just a few steps away.

"... Are you done talking?" Mycroft walked over step by step.

"You left me and Mrs. Holmes in the drawing room on purpose, didn't you?" Isabella understood immediately.

"There are some things that Mommy can only talk to you alone," Mycroft smiled, noncommittal, "otherwise she will be worried all the time."

"It's over, I also said a lot of good things about you," Isabella looked around, "Is this your room? It's really... simple."

Indeed, except for books and wardrobes, the surrounding area is empty, not even posters of football stars or game cassettes that ordinary boys like.

"Yes, I spent my teenage years here, so to speak."

"This cello is also yours? You can play the cello?" Isabella asked curiously.

"It used to be," said Mycroft, giving it a light look as if it were an old friend, "but I haven't pulled it since it broke a string."

It was only then that Isabella noticed a slight break on the simple and elegant cello body, and she asked suspiciously, "Why?"

"Sherlock used it to test the hardness of ceramic table knives."

"..."

Isabella couldn't help laughing at the helplessness of the other party. She walked around in McCoff's bedroom like visiting a zoo.

"I saw this in the living room when I came to your house for the first time." Isabella picked up the crystal photo frame on the bedside table. Inside were two boys, one big and one small, and a young man standing behind him. The Holmes couple.

"Oh, photos, I think every family will have this kind of... time souvenir." Mycroft raised his eyebrows and said.

"However, what Sherlock said is correct... It seems that your weight loss effect is really impressive," Isabella looked at the little fat man in the photo who put his hands on his younger brother's shoulders and raised his lips slightly, "Xia Locke was cute when he was a kid, and the pirate hat matched him so well."

Mycroft smirked and said, "Of course, Sherlock's childhood dream was to be a pirate captain."

"A great dream." Isabella echoed.

Moving her eyes to the left, she saw another photo on the neatly arranged desk.

It was a single photo. Under the green shade, the young man in a suit was neatly dressed, with a handsome and immature face, with a little student air.

Unlike today's Mycroft, who has a strong aura and is not angry, the youthful young man in the photo is full of vigor.

However, the only thing that remains unchanged is the slightly raised head of the young man in the photo and the expressionless, indifferent and self-sufficient look on his face, which is exactly the same as the current Mycroft.

"What time is this?" Isabella asked.

"Graduation day," Mycroft replied, "this should be the last picture."

"I always thought you were studying in a military academy..." Isabella said in surprise.

"No, of course not," Mycroft noticed a small plate of gingerbread biscuits on the table, he restrained his imminent hand, and continued, "otherwise, why would Sherlock choose Cambridge University in order to oppose me?"

"Okay, then I know where you graduated from."

Mycroft smelled of good body wash. He reached for a tightly wrapped gift box under the miniature Christmas tree decoration at the corner of the table. He spread out his palm and handed it to Isabella, smiling and saying: " Merry Christmas."

"Christmas present? What is it?" she asked in surprise.

"open to take a look."

Isabella pulled off the red bow, and in the center of the velvet box lay a red diamond necklace. The thin silver chain passed through the base like a flower stalk, and every cut surface of the red diamond reflected the radiance under the light. Dazzling light.

"...It?" Isabella raised her head and bumped into McCoff's deep gray-blue eyes.

The man didn't speak, but with a smile on his lips, he picked up the necklace and leaned over, wrapping his hands around Isabella's neck. He first took off the necklace with the silver ring on her neck, and then Raising her right hand, she slowly passed through the other's ring finger under Isabella's surprised eyes.

"Myc?" She subconsciously grabbed his finger.

"Maybe it should go to a suitable place." Mycroft whispered in her ear, his warm breath made her take a step back involuntarily.

Seeing this, Mycroft raised one corner of his lips invisibly, and his slender fingers, which had held guns and signed countless top-secret important documents, fell gently on the back of her neck. He will continue to wear them for Isabella. That luxurious red diamond necklace.

"Beautiful." He looked at the red dotted in the center of the woman's white and greasy collarbone like snow, and couldn't help admiring it.

"..." Isabella blinked, and she turned to get the things in the inner pocket of the coat, "I'm ready too, Myc, Merry Christmas."

Mycroft raised his eyebrows in surprise, his eyes fell on Isabella's pocket, and he waited intently.

Then Isabella pulled a fluffy Christmas stocking from her pocket.

"...?" Mycroft asked her silently.

"Well, it's a Christmas stocking that George gave me. I think it's so cute to put presents... Don't look at the goldfish, didn't you yearn for Santa's little presents when you were a child?"

"Obviously not." Mycroft showed a hypocritical smirk, "Although I'm not sure if Mommy has hung such stupid socks on my stroller when I don't remember, but I can tell you for sure, When I was five years old, I already knew what stories adults made up to deceive children."

"What about Sherlock?"

"Oh, he was later, when he was seven years old, he still watched me hang Christmas stockings by his bed, and begged me to hang his socks higher so that Santa could see them at a glance." McCaw Husband said happily.

Obviously, Sherlock's childhood foolishness pleased them, and Isabella laughed out loud, "And then, what did he wish for?"

"You saw it too," Mycroft looked sideways at the photo frame, "a pirate hat, it's really quite reluctant to put it in a sock."

"Well, I'm sure there will be gifts you like in this Christmas stocking." Isabella smiled and took out a small colorful box from the stocking, and handed it over.

"Well..." Mycroft's face remained calm, and he unwrapped the wrapping paper calmly, "This is the first Christmas present I've received from someone since I was an adult."

A solid gold tie clip unfolded in front of his eyes, and at the tail was carved a stretched rose, which was in full bloom.

It took her a lot of thought to choose a Christmas present for Mycroft, and Carol gave her many useful suggestions at the critical moment.

Of course, when her best friend learned that Isabella was picking out a gift for her boyfriend, she was so shocked that it took seven or eight seconds for her voice to recover.

"I like it very much." Mycroft put it away solemnly.

"Oh, by the way, these are gingerbread cookies baked by Mrs. Holmes. Do you want some? This Christmas, I think your sugar control plan is allowed to be put on hold for a while." Isabella pushed plate.

"It's late, Isabella, it's time for us to rest," Mycroft opened the closet, and there was a whole row of women's clothes next to all men's suits, ranging from pajamas to casual clothes, McCoff Looking at the clothes that were pushed aside, I was so shocked that I lost my voice. After a while, I continued to say, "Ohgod! It can be seen that Mommy is looking forward to your arrival."

"After all, you kept her waiting too long..." Isabella joked.

"But the wait is worth it, and the water temperature is just right." Mycroft took out the pajamas and handed them to her, the smile on his lips deepened.

"OK, I'll be there soon." Isabella took the pajamas and turned into the bathroom.

It can be seen that Mrs. Holmes must be an elegant woman who can enjoy life very much. On the small shelf above the bathtub is a row of colorful and various shampoo bath balls. The jar of incense burns quietly.

Isabella took a quick shower and walked out of the bathroom wearing the violet bathrobe specially prepared by Mrs. Holmes.

Mycroft was half leaning on the head of the bed, his expression returned to his previous ice face, his fingers were flying and he was answering text messages, it seemed that he was dealing with some important matter.

Isabella thoughtfully turned on the bedside lamp, and Mycroft replied, "No, I'll finish the matter right away."

"Don't terrorists celebrate Christmas too?" Isabella lifted the quilt and shrank into the warm quilt.

"ohdear...I'm pretty sure the terrorists won't pick a holiday, but this time it has nothing to do with them," McCoff put away his phone and turned off the lights, he hesitated for a while, then said, "Irene Adler strangled to death gone."

"What?" Isabella raised her voice in disbelief, "The password was cracked? Who killed her?"

"It was suicide, and she left Sherlock that phone as a Christmas present."

"Oh, that would be great, crack the code quickly, and then everyone will happily spend the rest of the Christmas holiday." Isabella said sarcastically.

"The body has been disfigured, and the password is nowhere to be found." Mycroft's voice sounded softly in the dark night, like the moonlight in the dark night, as soft as water.

"Disfigurement?" Isabella frowned, "Then how can you be sure it's her? Is the DNA the same?"

"Yes, it's exactly the same, and Sherlock guarantees that it is indeed Irene." Speaking of Sherlock, Mycroft's words still paused strangely.

"Why?"

"He looked at the body of the corpse and said it was Irene Adler." Mycroft tried to put it mildly.

"...I wish it was just the two of you." Isabella closed her eyes and sighed.

"I'm sorry, the female forensic doctor from Butts Hospital is also here," Mycroft said regretfully, "Obviously, she has some unrealistic feelings for Sherlock."

"Jasmine?!" Isabella couldn't imagine how embarrassing the scene was, "Oh my God!"

"But compared to this, I'm more curious about why Sherlock knows those..." Mycroft searched for suitable words from his vocabulary.

Interrupting his words, Isabella quickly said in a low voice: "It's just that our sadistic queen likes to run naked, don't worry, she shouldn't be so bold to do something. Haven't you seen it? Those photographs Inspector Lestrade sent you?"

"Yes, the whip chosen by Thewoman is not very flexible, and the diameter of the wound is very small..." Mycroft seemed to be evaluating objectively, but with the special meaning contained in the evaluated tool itself, the topic cannot be discussed. Avoid going in certain abnormal directions.

"...Why do we stay up late at night to discuss this?" Isabella quickly stopped the topic, "Is MI6 going to update the torture tools?"

"No, it's just that those photos of Sherlock reminded me..." Mycroft said with a smile, his words seemed to have magic power, which made Isabella drowsy. He propped one arm on the bed, leaning over Kissing her forehead lightly, whispering, "NightyNight."

The author has something to say:

感谢在2021-07-1219:36:10~2021-07-1502:22:11期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angel of the irrigation nutrient solution: 30 bottles of Fanshuang; 10 bottles of Helen Meljolin; 1 bottle of Shen Yu'an;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!