One Shots

Mycroft-Sickness

I worked as a personal assistant to Mycroft Holmes. Some would find the job hard or even think him a horrible boss with a nickname like 'the iceman' but he was actually quite kind to his employees. This morning Mycroft was late for our meeting which was very unlike him. He was never late, he was always on the dot. Being a personal assistant I had free run of his house.

I went up to his room and knocked on the door. "Mr. Holmes is everything all right?" I got no answer from him. That was also unusual. "Mr. Holmes, are you well?" I asked a bit louder this time. Still no answer. "Mycroft if I don't get an answer I'm coming in," I tried one more time. I put my ear to the door and I didn't hear any movement.

I sighed, I hoped he was decent. I opened the door and poked my head in. He was in bed, still in his nightclothes, his eyes almost swollen shut, his nose red, tissues piled around him, and I could hear him struggling to breathe he was so stuffed up. "Oh my," I muttered coming in and putting my hand to his forehead. He had a fever. He tried to say something and he couldn't speak, he had lost his voice.

"Don't try to talk, it will only make it worse," I said. I handed him a notepad and pen. "I'll get you some tea with honey in and call John."

'I have meetings today,' he wrote.

"Looks like you'll be using email unless they know sign. John's not going to let you use your voice for at least 24 hours. I'll be back with that tea and some soup," I said leaving the room. I went down to the kitchen to prepare what I needed and called John.

He said he'd be right over. It was most likely just a cold, but better safe than sorry with Mycroft's job. It didn't take long for me to make the soup and tea and bring it up with more tissues and a small bag to clean up the used ones. Anthea would let John in and show him where to go. When I came back Mycroft tried to protest, "Use your notepad and sit down before you fall down." He glared at me, "Don't make me call your mother."

"You wouldn't," he mouthed.

"Try me," I said in a warning tone. He sighed and caved knowing that I would. He sat back in bed and took his tea and ate his soup. When John arrived he declared it a cold, just as I thought. He told Mycroft he couldn't talk for at least three days, this was going to be hell for him. He also had to stay in bed till his fever lifted for more than 24 hours. I was charged with his care as I could actually make him listen.

I sat with him the first day making him rest as I dealt with paperwork and fielding calls. I also tended to his needs. He signed his frustration to me all day long which I ignored knowing I was doing what was best for him. By the second day, I gave him his laptop so he had something to do. His fever was lower, but it still had yet to break. He looked better, his eyes were open, he could breathe.

When the third day came I was exhausted. I hadn't taken the best care of myself, putting my boss first. He seemed to noticed as he stopped signing at me and shoved a note into my hands, telling me to go take a nap. I shook my head, there was a meeting in five minutes. The people on the other end only spoke Russian, meaning I had to translate for Mycroft as he wasn't allowed to speak yet.

Tomorrow he would be allowed to talk all he wanted if John cleared him. John was due at nine in the morning. Once the meeting was over and I brought Mycroft his dinner he insisted I go to bed, saying that the cook could take the dishes back to the kitchen. I conceded, too tired to argue, but told him to call me if he needed anything.

I collapsed on my bed and was asleep instantly. I woke the next morning to hear my boss's voice beside me. I shot up, realizing I must have overslept. "I'm so sorry sir, I forgot to set an alarm," I said scrambling to pull together an outfit.

"Relax Ellie," Mycroft said. I turned to look at him. "Take the day. You deserve a day and thank you." With that, he left the room. I guess John cleared him to go back to work.