Richard Book is Innocent (
oxfordtweed) wrote in
tweedandtinsel2010-12-24 11:44 pm
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Five Drabbles: Sixth Sense, Thunder, Lightning, Christmas, She
Fandom: Sherlock
Character/s: Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft/"Anthea"
Word Count: drabbles!
Rating: G
Summary: Five drabbles for
sherlock100.
Notes/Warnings: It's that holiday, and I'm bored. So have some drabbles.
Sixth Sense
He had an almost unerring ability to appear to read a person’s thoughts before they even realised they were thinking them. Even more alarming, he didn’t even seem to know that he was doing it. Even as he said things he couldn’t possibly know, it was all smiles and smooth voices. As far as he was concerned, this was perfectly normal and something everyone should know how to do. That no one ever did just instilled a certain smugness, and whenever a certain person did manage, the only thing he could think was how much he’d wished Sherlock would stop.
Thunder
There were some things even the tightest security couldn’t keep out. It didn’t do any good to kick up a fuss, because there was nothing that could be done, short of relocating his entire office deep underground. For a few seconds, he was five years old again; fighting a ridiculous childish urge to jump away as the rumble droned through the entire city.
“Is everything all right, sir?”
He looked up at the woman standing in the doorway, her hands still on her Blackberry.
“Yes, dear,” he said slowly, repressing another sharp start. “Just a headache. It’ll pass, I’m sure.”
Lightning
They say that lightning never strikes twice. Even from a young age, everyone knew Mycroft was brilliant beyond his years, if a bit of an underachiever. He was always regarded as special; a bright little spark that was unique and never to be duplicated. Mummy was always so proud of him and everything he did. Nothing could ever outshine him, and he would always be the best thing to happen to the Holmes family for several generations.
And then, Mycroft got a new brother; one who was just as brilliant and who would always find a way to outshine him.
Christmas
He sat in the armchair in the corner, silently chewing on his tongue. Mummy was crying again, the maid was clearing up the remains of a teacup that had been hurled across the room, and Sherlock was looking smug as ever.
“Congratulations,” Mycroft said flatly. “I believe this just put you in the lead.”
“I wasn’t aware we were competing, brother of mine,” Sherlock said after a moment.
“No, of course not,” said Mycroft as he reached for a reindeer-shaped biscuit.
“How’s the diet?”
Mycroft bit the head off the reindeer, making sure Sherlock saw him enjoy it. “Just fine.”
She
It had started innocently, as it always does. Friendly smiles and interactions; slowly getting comfortable around one another as they each figured out boundaries and borders.
Eventually, those boundaries and borders began to blur. Personal space became less of an issue, and small touches on hands or shoulders would linger longer than usual.
There was no official regulation against it, so it was never something that was hidden or forbidden in any way. But they didn’t flaunt it, either. Nothing had changed between them. She still called him Sir and fetched his tea, even when they weren’t in the office.
Character/s: Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft/"Anthea"
Word Count: drabbles!
Rating: G
Summary: Five drabbles for
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
Notes/Warnings: It's that holiday, and I'm bored. So have some drabbles.
Sixth Sense
He had an almost unerring ability to appear to read a person’s thoughts before they even realised they were thinking them. Even more alarming, he didn’t even seem to know that he was doing it. Even as he said things he couldn’t possibly know, it was all smiles and smooth voices. As far as he was concerned, this was perfectly normal and something everyone should know how to do. That no one ever did just instilled a certain smugness, and whenever a certain person did manage, the only thing he could think was how much he’d wished Sherlock would stop.
Thunder
There were some things even the tightest security couldn’t keep out. It didn’t do any good to kick up a fuss, because there was nothing that could be done, short of relocating his entire office deep underground. For a few seconds, he was five years old again; fighting a ridiculous childish urge to jump away as the rumble droned through the entire city.
“Is everything all right, sir?”
He looked up at the woman standing in the doorway, her hands still on her Blackberry.
“Yes, dear,” he said slowly, repressing another sharp start. “Just a headache. It’ll pass, I’m sure.”
Lightning
They say that lightning never strikes twice. Even from a young age, everyone knew Mycroft was brilliant beyond his years, if a bit of an underachiever. He was always regarded as special; a bright little spark that was unique and never to be duplicated. Mummy was always so proud of him and everything he did. Nothing could ever outshine him, and he would always be the best thing to happen to the Holmes family for several generations.
And then, Mycroft got a new brother; one who was just as brilliant and who would always find a way to outshine him.
Christmas
He sat in the armchair in the corner, silently chewing on his tongue. Mummy was crying again, the maid was clearing up the remains of a teacup that had been hurled across the room, and Sherlock was looking smug as ever.
“Congratulations,” Mycroft said flatly. “I believe this just put you in the lead.”
“I wasn’t aware we were competing, brother of mine,” Sherlock said after a moment.
“No, of course not,” said Mycroft as he reached for a reindeer-shaped biscuit.
“How’s the diet?”
Mycroft bit the head off the reindeer, making sure Sherlock saw him enjoy it. “Just fine.”
She
It had started innocently, as it always does. Friendly smiles and interactions; slowly getting comfortable around one another as they each figured out boundaries and borders.
Eventually, those boundaries and borders began to blur. Personal space became less of an issue, and small touches on hands or shoulders would linger longer than usual.
There was no official regulation against it, so it was never something that was hidden or forbidden in any way. But they didn’t flaunt it, either. Nothing had changed between them. She still called him Sir and fetched his tea, even when they weren’t in the office.