because why not

[motherofgenius]

Sherlock, dear, you promised you'd call! Your father and I aren't going to raise a fuss about Christmas (though, yes, we are rather disappointed that you drugged us instead of letting us know about your plan like last time--I thought you'd grown out of that). We just want to know that you're all right. Especially after that dreadful thing on the television.

And Mikey, that means you too. I know you're busy, but no one's too busy to talk to his own mother!

(Mary, John, it was so lovely to meet you. Please do keep us informed about the baby! A woman has to let her grandmotherly impulses out somehow. At least until one of my boys settles down.)

You have my number, dear. Remember I love you. Call me!

Comments

[brotherthine]

Mycroft.

Not 'Mikey'. Honestly, woman, you gave me the name. It only has two syllables.

[motherofgenius]

I know you're all grown up and terribly serious now, but you're still my little boy.

[brotherthine]

[Sigh]

...Mummy, I am forty-two years old. I own a laptop from which I protect the free world. I have trained assassins either guarding me or hunting me. I am hardly anyone's 'little boy'.

[motherofgenius]

Don't be silly. You're always your mother's son, no matter how old you get.

Your father and I are thinking of coming to London again. How about if you join us for lunch and a show?

OMG I've been waiting and hoping and dreaming. Sherlock, isn't as excited, sorry.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

So sorry that I was recovering from a bullet wound in hosp...

Oh. That. Well, I'm remaining in England now, so we'll get it sorted, you're not to worry.

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON'T CALL YOUR MOTHER

[motherofgenius]

And honestly, Sherlock, why did I have to hear about that from the press?! Your dad and I were worried sick about you!

NO! NOT THE BABY PICTURES!!!! AAAGGGGGHHHH!

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

I was a little busy trying to not die. Besides, Mycroft should have told you, he knew....

[Mycroft was going to tattle on him for getting into cocaine again, but he wouldn't tell them Sherlock had been shot?]

ALL THE BABY PICTURES. INCLUDING THE PIRATE COSTUMES.

[motherofgenius]

Well, yes, but you know how busy his job keeps him. Couldn't you have given John and Mary our number and had them phone us? And don't split your infinitives, dear.

[you_dont_work_alone]

It was very kind of you to have us over for the holidays, Mrs. Holmes.

[motherofgenius]

We were very glad to have you! And you're welcome back any time.

Honestly, I'm happy Sherlock has such good, steady friends.

[you_dont_work_alone]

Thank you. I enjoyed it. Until, you know.

[The whole drugging thing and the psychopath.]

[motherofgenius]

It's still not quite as bad as the Christmas he set his father's armchair on fire.

[lionhearted_girl]

From MMHooper: This isn't Sherlock's phone number. But I have forwarded the message. I hope other than that you had a good holiday. Molly.

[motherofgenius]

To MMHooper: Molly from the morgue?

[lionhearted_girl]

From MMHooper: From Barts, yes. Not always in the morgue though - long story, not important.

[motherofgenius]

To MMHooper: The smart one! I've heard about you. Thank you so much for helping Sherlock get out of that unpleasant business two years ago.

[marywatson]

We've had a scan. We're pretty sure it's a girl. It was wonderful to spend time with you, minus your son drugging us and my husband abandoning us.

[motherofgenius]

Congratulations! Don't get me wrong, boys are a delight, but it is lovely to have a little girl around.

And I do apologize, because Sherlock probably hasn't. He's always been a bit... well, you know.

[marywatson]

Well, I suppose...

[Awkward! Mary's not your kid and John isn't either. Though, Mary does miss her own mum, so surrogate is a possibility.]

And no need to apologise for Sherlock. He's.... well, you could call us even now.

[And Mary just offers a smile that says "nothing to see here."]

[motherofgenius]

[She's just really glad Sherlock has friends! He was a lonely little boy and she worries.]

Well, I'm glad to hear that at least. He does need a little nudge every now and then, to keep him on the right path.

I'm sorry, I could not resist.

[glassesbrat]

Y-you're Holmes' mother?

[ Here Mrs. Holmes, have what is probably Sherlock's biggest fan and practically his adopted son in another game. ]

never be sorry

[motherofgenius]

Have been for quite some time now, dear. And who might you be?

[glassesbrat]

[ Is this an invasion to Holmes' privacy? It's probably a complete invasion of privacy but he can't really help himself. ]

C-Conan. Conan Edogawa. He's letting me stay with him in-er, have you heard about 'games' yet?

[ignoringjohn]

[One Message forwarded from Mycroft Holmes with no explanation. Wrinkling her nose, Anthea checked birthdays, anniversaries and the few other Holmesian special occasions. Nothing.

Oh Sir, what am I supposed to do with this? Send her flowers? Tickets to some new musical you won't attend? Arrange dinner? Your shawl collared Chesterfield overcoat is less than illuminating on this issue. Why is it so important that contact be made before you leave that meeting? Or, sighing. Or what? You've been thrown to the Holmes, Anna girl, best to plot a course now.

Opening Wanda Holmes' file - who other than Mycroft would keep a file on his own mother? - her favorite flowers were noted and the florist he preferred contacted requesting immediate delivery, the arrangement ordered and an appropriate general message sent.

Hopefully that would end whatever Mycroft was attempting to avoid, Talking to his mother, of course.]

[sherringford]

[Envelope and letter typed. Plain copy paper. No signature.]

January 6, 19--
Dear Mrs. Holmes,

Today, on the day of my majority, I am leaving Holloway Sanatorium. It has been my home for as long as I can remember and I am sorry to leave its walls behind.

I appreciate your care and concern over these many years. Although my body has healed, the mind has not and unfortunately, I do not remember you and yours. I cannot keep the books you sent over the years or the lovely keepsakes of a family I cannot recognize as my own and hereby return them, accompanied by this letter.

I am very grateful for your kind assistance.

Sincerely,

Sherring