Mycroft, though he often seems lazy, does work every day of the year.  The last time he took a day off work was December 12th, 2000, which turned out to be a very bad day to be at home with the flu.  It is the lowest moment of Mycroft's career, in his opinion.

Still, his assistants have far more leeway than he gives himself and Jessica, his first admin assistant (as opposed to his first assistant, the ever reliable and indispensable Miss Morstan -- and her BlackBerry) had asked for two weeks off during the holiday season due to the birth of a twin niece and nephew.  Mycroft not only signed off on it, but sent her along with two silver spoons engraved with the newborns' names.  Because Jessica is a clever girl, she knew better than to ask how he found out the names despite not being told.

Thus, her last duty was to wrap the presents for John, Mummy, and Sherlock, before clocking out for a holiday to Carlisle. 

Mycroft arrives at his office early on a Sunday morning to two frantic texts messages and a very distressing sight.

Jessica, the ever dutiful, Jessica, is at her desk, her skin mottled, and the one of her high heels is sitting on the desk.  Mycroft, without even having to look (though he does) knows her feet are now an odd shade of blue.

This time, there is a note with the body:

I hate the decor.

Try growing up with Sherlock

Or taking him to a library.  (Important note: this post may contain the best zombified version of "The Night Before Christmas" TYVM.)

These threads feature tinies of Mycroft (fixessixthform ) and Sherlock (tinysociopath ) and their NPC mother, who, due to having to be the toughest woman who ever lived to raise these boys, is probably Judi Dench.  She would need to be that awesome.

First, they break into his office.

Then he tracks them down.

And makes them rob JK Rowling.

All threads in question feature bluesuit_handy .