The Man With The Umbrella

- 31 -

Mycroft, as ever, stood pristine in a fined grey tailored suit, overlooking the swim of agents down the floor below him behind the glass window.

He stood in the very room where parliamentary commission was held a few months previous. "As my colleague is fond of remarking, this country sometimes needs blunt instrument. Equally, it sometimes needs a dagger; a scalpel wielded with precision and without remorse..." He spoke coldly before glancing to his left. "There will always come a time when we need Sherlock Holmes."

Several men sit around a table, looking back at the Ice-Man silently. "If this is some expression of familial sentiment..." Sir Edwin answered to which, Mycroft rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Don't be absurd. I am not given to outbursts of brotherly compassion. You know what happened to the other one." He emphasised. "In any event, there is no prison in which we could incarcerate Sherlock without causing a riot on a daily basis. The alternative, however..." He glances briefly to Lady Smallwood. "Would require your approval." He finalised.

"Hardly merciful, Mister Holmes." Elizabeth Smallwood basks in disapproval. "Regrettably, Lady Smallwood, my brother is a murderer." Turning away, he cases his eyes to the floor below again.

***

Amelia wondered of the true meaning of what Mycroft meant when he stated he would like to spend Christmas evening with the pair but what she didn't expect was for Mycroft to tap on her door in that ordinarily precise way of his with a small suitcase in hand along with his umbrella, briefcase and overcoat upon his arm.

She didn't bombard him with questions, she simply stepped aside and allowed him in.

She would later find out how Mycroft needed the approval off another to send Sherlock to Eastern Europe for the estimation of six months before absolute result commenced in the most devastating way.

Amelia watched as Mycroft gazed around the surroundings of her flat with a mimic of disgust due to none of the furniture matching. "I was under the impression that you wanted us both to stay at yours?" She questioned puzzlingly as she went into the kitchen, fishing out a bottle of his preferred whisky and a glass tumbler.

"I said I wanted to spend the evening with you both, no?" He rhetorically stated, standing tall in the kitchen. "You did." Amelia agreed, still hesitant from the whole ordeal. "And I shall." He concluded. "Well... Make yourself at home even if it means blowing someone off the face of the earth." She smiled as he rolled his eyes at her predicament and presumably went to the bedroom to place his things away.

***

With a blazer discarded and glass tumbler in hand, Mycroft sat on the right side of the sofa as Amelia sat on the left, dressed in her leggings and a loose fitted top. Both were busy finishing loose papers for work whilst Viola sat on the other sofa beside Amelia and happily watched the muppets version of: A Christmas Carol.

A few minutes went by for the trio before Viola huffed out in dismay. "Mum, I'm bored." She announced. "Woe with you." Amelia retaliated, her gaze not wavering from her documents.

"Do you bite your thumb at me, sir?" Viola quoted from the opening scene of Romeo and Juliet. "No, sir. But I do bite my thumb." Amelia answered. "All that glitters is not gold." Viola furthered on with quoting Shakespeare. "The merchant of Venice, Act two, scene seven." Mycroft joined into answer whilst reading over his papers. "I'm still bored." Viola stated again.

Amelia finished signing off her papers before placing them in a folder away and turning to her daughter. "Alright, mini-Sherlock. What do you want me to do about it?" The mother and daughter seemed to uphold a gaze battle from what Mycroft could see from the corner of his eye before Viola sighed once more. "Can we play chess?"