Marlin's Sword [A Mycroft Holmes Fanfiction]

The Lying Detective

Late at night, after the gala, Mycroft and Meredith's motorcade pulled up in front of the mansion. Thomas got out first, followed by Mycroft. Mycroft headed up the front steps as Thomas opened the door for Meredith who was dressed in a glamorous evening dress. Mycroft opened the door to the mansion and led Meredith inside, after wishing Thomas a good night.

Knowing neither of them was going to get any sleep, Mycroft led Meredith to the film room and she sat down in front of the large screen as Mycroft picked a noir and fed the film into the projector. Mycroft adjusted the projector, focusing the image, and sat down as the blank screen came to life. He reached over to the side table and opened a silver box, where he kept his cigarettes. Finding the box empty, he looked up at Meredith, 'I emptied it' she said and Mycroft glared at her. Meredith shook her head firmly, 'I'm having your child. I'd like for you to watch that child grow up. I can't have a husband who smokes' she explained, placing her hand on her burgeoning abdomen.

Mycroft sighed in disappointment, 'I had to leave the gala so I can spend my night, tracking Sherlock's movements, who walked around the city trying to spell fuck off and bollocks. I need a cigarette' he drawled with a firm expression.

Meredith wasn't going to budge, 'Mary gave her life for Sherlock. She is dead, Mycroft. He is in shock' she pleaded Sherlock's case.

Mycroft scoffed at her, 'Lady Smallwood said the same thing. Everybody dies. That's the one thing human beings can be relied upon to do. How can it still come as a surprise to people?' he asked in disbelief.

Meredith stared at him for a brief moment then sighed, 'God, I hope you have more to say when I die' she exhaled. Mycroft glanced at her briefly wanting to say something then looked away, watching the noir. Meredith noticed her husband's behavior, he seemed worried and tense. She stood up to her feet and walked to the bar. Glancing at him with an uncertain expression she made him a stirred martini, just the way he liked it. She handed the drink to him and sat down, 'Sherrinford...' she said knowingly.

Mycroft furrowed his brows in confusion, 'What about it?' he asked, deflecting.

Meredith smiled pensively at her husband, 'I've been married to you 20 years. I know that look on your face. That's the look you get every time you're thinking about her. So,... this is about Sherrinford' she explained, slipping into his arms.

Mycroft nodded reluctantly, 'Among other things' he admitted.

Meredith scoffed at him, 'What other things?' she asked sarcastically.

Mycroft shrugged, 'I don't know. Sherlock' he reminded her.

Meredith turned in his arms with a little difficulty supporting herself, facing him, 'Mycroft, you need to understand that Sherlock Holmes and John Watson can't exist without each other. Well,... they can exist, they just can't live. It took me a while, but I finally got it... Mary knew that, it's why she jumped in front of that bullet... Just give them a little time, they'll figure it out' she explained.

Mycroft sighed and nodded, 'I know that. I just can't help myself. Sherlock, and... I worry about them, constantly' he explained, looking away from Meredith.

Meredith caressed his face, 'I know. Sherlock is going to be fine, and Eurus... Everything okay there, right?' she asked.

Mycroft looked at her for a moment and composed himself, 'Sherrinford is secure' he said firmly and wrapped his arm around her. Not wanting to continue their conversation, Mycroft fixed his gaze on the noir.

.........

Late at night, as usual, Mycroft walked Meredith to her hostel, after taking her to a screening of a noir. Meredith tried to take Mycroft's hand in hers, but he was quick to pull away. Every day on their walks to her dorm, Meredith's hand would make a journey to his hand, only to fall back to her side alone. Her boyfriend was interesting that way, he had no problem having sex with her but he hated holding hands or hugging. Meredith understood what it was, sex was just lust and a physical need, but holding hands or hugging was intimate emotionally. And Mycroft never made himself emotionally vulnerable to anyone. 'Hey, listen. I want to take you out this weekend' Meredith said as they neared her hostel.