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tweedandtinsel2011-01-27 05:13 pm
oxfordtweed) wrote in tweedandtinsel2011-01-27 05:13 pm
Peace Offering
Fandom: Sherlock
Character/s: Mycroft Holmes
Word Count: 500
Rating: G
Summary: Mycroft and Sherlock don’t actually hate one another.
Notes/Warnings: For a prompt, which wanted to know back stories for some of the smaller details in the show.
Peace Offering
Mycroft carried it everywhere, using it as an extension of his own body. A gentle twist of the handle or quick swish of the tip added volumes to the vocabulary of his body language, conveying just the slightest hints of whatever idea or emotion he wanted to instil in the person who had been at that moment unfortunate enough to be having a conversation with him.
What no one ever noticed was that it was not always the same umbrella. He had in his possession no fewer than 23 umbrellas, actually, each identical in every way, unless the person looking at them was observant.
The most obvious difference was the colour; each a different shade of grey, and easily matched to whatever he happened to be wearing on any particular day. Mycroft knew that this was not an accident, and rather liked this attention to detail. Then again, he hadn’t expected anything less.
Some were more practical than others, actually functioning in exactly the way an umbrella should be expected to function, and with nothing extra. There was a small collection, however, that were kept away from the common areas of the house, and tucked away in the relative safety of his office on the first floor. Those were the umbrellas that concealed secret blades or were capable of firing small poison capsules at close range. Amongst other things, the Holmes men were known for their devilishly peculiar senses of humour.
The umbrellas that were kept in his office were the ones Mycroft treasured most, because no small amount of time, effort, and money had gone into them. How they had been procured at all without Mycroft ever knowing about it would never cease to amaze him.
The necktie had been a peace offering. Mycroft recognised this fact the very instant he opened the small box. Blue silk with little umbrellas embroidered in grey silk thread. It arrived in the usual manner, having been secreted into the house through bribery of the house staff, which would all have to be fired immediately for allowing such things to happen. The fact that Mycroft knew exactly who the package was from made no difference, since the man was just as unstable and trustworthy as anyone else who might have wanted Mycroft dead.
But it was a start. It came with no note, but Mycroft still knew what it meant. I’m willing to cooperate. After far too many years of struggling to put Sherlock back on his feet, he’d found a way of finding his own feet, but was still stumbling; still needed help getting back up to speed, and for the first time in nearly a decade was willing to let Mycroft help with that.
Mycroft had been told of the explosion on Baker Street mere moments after it had happened. Without wasting a second, he told his assistant to rearrange his daily schedule and removed the red tie he’d started the day off wearing, and replacing it with the blue embroidered one, ignoring the way it clashed with the red pocket silk in his jacket.
I’m willing to help.
Character/s: Mycroft Holmes
Word Count: 500
Rating: G
Summary: Mycroft and Sherlock don’t actually hate one another.
Notes/Warnings: For a prompt, which wanted to know back stories for some of the smaller details in the show.
Peace Offering
Mycroft carried it everywhere, using it as an extension of his own body. A gentle twist of the handle or quick swish of the tip added volumes to the vocabulary of his body language, conveying just the slightest hints of whatever idea or emotion he wanted to instil in the person who had been at that moment unfortunate enough to be having a conversation with him.
What no one ever noticed was that it was not always the same umbrella. He had in his possession no fewer than 23 umbrellas, actually, each identical in every way, unless the person looking at them was observant.
The most obvious difference was the colour; each a different shade of grey, and easily matched to whatever he happened to be wearing on any particular day. Mycroft knew that this was not an accident, and rather liked this attention to detail. Then again, he hadn’t expected anything less.
Some were more practical than others, actually functioning in exactly the way an umbrella should be expected to function, and with nothing extra. There was a small collection, however, that were kept away from the common areas of the house, and tucked away in the relative safety of his office on the first floor. Those were the umbrellas that concealed secret blades or were capable of firing small poison capsules at close range. Amongst other things, the Holmes men were known for their devilishly peculiar senses of humour.
The umbrellas that were kept in his office were the ones Mycroft treasured most, because no small amount of time, effort, and money had gone into them. How they had been procured at all without Mycroft ever knowing about it would never cease to amaze him.
The necktie had been a peace offering. Mycroft recognised this fact the very instant he opened the small box. Blue silk with little umbrellas embroidered in grey silk thread. It arrived in the usual manner, having been secreted into the house through bribery of the house staff, which would all have to be fired immediately for allowing such things to happen. The fact that Mycroft knew exactly who the package was from made no difference, since the man was just as unstable and trustworthy as anyone else who might have wanted Mycroft dead.
But it was a start. It came with no note, but Mycroft still knew what it meant. I’m willing to cooperate. After far too many years of struggling to put Sherlock back on his feet, he’d found a way of finding his own feet, but was still stumbling; still needed help getting back up to speed, and for the first time in nearly a decade was willing to let Mycroft help with that.
Mycroft had been told of the explosion on Baker Street mere moments after it had happened. Without wasting a second, he told his assistant to rearrange his daily schedule and removed the red tie he’d started the day off wearing, and replacing it with the blue embroidered one, ignoring the way it clashed with the red pocket silk in his jacket.
I’m willing to help.
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Well done, you.
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And in my head, Mycroft is always firing his staff for one reason or another. If you last a full year, it's either because you're the PA that he's sleeping with, or it was a clerical error that will soon be rectified.
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Brilliant. Especially love the detail you used with the red tie and pocket square, because the red jumped out at me the first time I watched the episode as being kind of out of place (then I looked up the hanky code because I'm all kinds of sick) and I wondered about the possible significance. This is now in my headcanon.
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