Sherlock One shots and Imagines

Our American Cousins - Part 2 - Mycroft x Reader

A second part of this imagine for CaptSHolmes. Sorry it's taken so long, but it took me some time to get the story right.  I am contemplating a part three. But until I decide, I hope you all enjoy this part.

"What can I get you, Colonel?" Mycroft asked, as he pulled out a stool at the bar for her to sit on.

"I'll take a single malt. No ice. And it's (Y/n). Mister Holmes." (Y/n) replied, as she took a seat. The barman dutifully making his way to get the drinks as Mycroft ordered his own.

"You know, Mister Holmes, you're definitely not quite what I expected." (Y/n) chuckled, as the barman handed her a drink.

"And what exactly were you expecting, (Y/n). And it's Mycroft, please." Mycroft replied, as (Y/n) brought her glass up in a salute, before taking her first sip.

"Well, I had heard a few things. A few horror stories from my predecessors. And you most certainly have that English stiff upper lip they all spoke about. Or was it that you had a stick up your ass. Either way, I wasn't quite expecting you to dance like that. I had been told that you were a cold intellectual, that thought little of others. That in fact, looked down on others. But a man that can dance with a woman in such a fashion, I believe, has a hidden fire." (Y/n) explained, as she moved a little closer. Mycroft coughing slightly, as he tried to hold back the blush that was creeping up from under his stiff shirt collar.

"So, tell me, Mycroft. Is there a secret passion simmering under that finely tailored suit of yours?" (Y/n) continued, as her fingers brushed down the collar of his tuxedo.

Mycroft had to admit, that for once in his life, he wasn't quite sure what to say. Wasn't sure what to even think. It wasn't every day that a beautiful woman asked him whether he had hidden fires. It wasn't every day that beautiful women asked him anything, full stop. In truth, he viewed most women, most other people in fact, as inferior. Particularly when it came to intellect. Yet here before him was a woman that was not only beautiful, but from what had seen through their correspondence and her work for the conference from her side of the pond, she was not the goldfish like so many of her fellows were.

"You know, I have always had a thing for British men. I really don't know what it is. Maybe it the accent. The way they hold themselves. Those cute bowler hats and umbrellas that you guys carry. Or maybe it's just that they.........."

"Colonel. The President would like to see you ma'am." A voice suddenly said. (Y/n) reluctantly moving away from Mycroft. and turning her attention to the black suit clad security guard, that had made his way into the bar.

"Thank you, Donaldson. I'm on my way." (Y/n) told him, as she got to her feet.

"Well, I am afraid duty calls. And as much as I would like to get to know you better, Mycroft. I am afraid that the President just won't wait. Perhaps tomorrow, when he and your PM are talking, we might be able to catch up over coffee. And we can further discuss this possible hidden passion of yours." (Y/n) chuckled. Kissing Mycroft on the cheek, before grabbing her bag and following the security guard back towards the ongoing function. Leaving a quite shocked and stunned, Mycroft behind. The usually detached and calculating older Holmes, who prided himself on having a high degree of self-control. Finding his current demeanour, really rather quite interesting.

                                                                >>-------------------------------<<

"Where is she?" Mycroft enquired disdainfully, as he stood before one of (Y/n)'s subordinates that he had seen buzzing around her the day before. The young man looking up from the clipboard in his hand. A bemused look on his face.