|Sherlock Imagines|

Mycroft: #7 Pt. 1

Pairing: Mycroft Holmes x Reader
Warnings: no just a cute Myc imagine, written towards a she/her reader but feel free to change that

Mycroft was always convinced there wasn't anything special in America. But he soon proved himself wrong.

It was a matter of the highest secrecy that brought Mycroft to the states. He was meeting with a few ambassadors and discussing upcoming elections. 

It was sheer coincidence, or perhaps luck, that after arriving the meeting had to be pushed back a day. Stuck in a small, middle of nowhere town where the meeting was taking place, Mycroft had an entire day to waste. He wasn't used to spending his time in such a place where he really didn't have much power at all.

He'd never admit it but it was a small relief to have a day where he wasn't important, where he wasn't highly sought after. He was just a normal, boring, person.

Mycroft started off his day in a small cafe. He usually abided by a strict diet, but since this was his one day to be normal he ordered whatever he wanted. And he wanted pancakes.

He quickly discovered that American pancakes were quite different than the ones he was used to, but he still enjoyed them. His breakfast was going quite peacefully when a disturbance across the cafe caught his attention.

"I swear I thought I had enough money!" A young woman was sitting at a table by herself with an empty plate in front of her. A waiter and a manager stood in front of her table.

"Don't eat if you can't pay." The manager yelled, gesturing towards the woman.

"I'm sorry! I'm just a couple dollars short, I thought I had enough. Let me just recount it, I might have some more change in my pockets...." The woman trailed off and began counting out her money.

Mycroft watched from his table, his interest mildly peaked. He couldn't understand why someone would go out to eat if they couldn't even afford it.

The woman counted out her money and was still 3 dollars short. She apologized over and over, and eventually was ordered to leave. As Mycroft paid for his meal the woman was leaving with tears in her eyes.

He rolled his eyes as the woman left and walked down the street, disappearing from view.

"I'll never understand people like that," he mused to his waiter as he took the check.

"Neither will I sir."

With a final nod Mycroft left the cafe. Now full of food and mildly irritated he decided to take a stroll through town. He passed a multitude of small businesses and bars, people of all different shapes and sizes, and a couple gas stations.

He spent a bit of time wandering around a small park, mostly people watching. After growing bored of that he was back to walking. He was nearly at the edge of town when he passed a bakery. The smells wafting over were so inviting and in this chilly weather the warmth was calling out to him.

He had just eaten a little bit ago, but he couldn't resist. He stepped into the bakery, sighing in happiness as he was hit with a wave of warmth and wonderful smells.

It was a small establishment with just a few tables scattered around a counter and glass case filled to the brim with pastries. There was a single person eating a croissant and reading a paper by the window, but no one behind the counter.

A bell sat beside the register, a small note saying to ding it for service. He cautiously did so, the sound echoing. A few seconds later a young woman came out of the back with a tray in hand.

"Just a moment and I'll be with you sir," she promised, setting down the tray of something Mycroft wasn't familiar with.

Taking a large metal spatula she scooped them up and set them in the display, little curls of steam rising from the desserts.