Sherlock Holmes is renowned far and wide for his Mind Palace but Mycroft Holmes is privately known to have a House Of Memories.
Elina Hooper is the twin sister of the sweet pathologist, Molly. French on their mother's side and being both graced wit...
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Feeling embarrassment or anything akin to it wasn't something ever worth truly believing when Elina thought about it. However, she couldn't deny the mortification, the discomposure, the flusteredness and most importantly the sheepishness over the weeks passing by working close to no other but Mycroft Holmes.
She would presume in the end that her avoidance to the man was the start of the reason why she moved onto focus on her sister and mother. Her dear mama that over the course of three weeks apparently started remembering everything and in turn causing her twins to lose everything parts of their worlds revolved around.
***
Elina walked into headquarters, early in the morning with a head held high although she wasn't feeling particularly patriotic. Dropping her bag off at her desk, she walked into Mycroft's closed office and sat across from him, placing files upon research of everything needed to know of the uprising Consulting Criminal.
Mycroft lifted a brow but stated nothing as he pulled the files towards him and skimmed through each page over the course of a few minutes. Elina didn't like admitting it to herself so it didn't really matter admitting it to others but she admired him as he was in the moment. In his natural layer of ice. She never paid attention to his favoured suits before but she had noticed as of late how he tended to wear colder shades of blue which unconsciously indicated how deep he was inside of his own mind.
Rudy had shared something with Elina once concerning his favoured nephew. He never referred to his mind as the correct scientific name. Rudy had said he always called it a House Of Memories and Mycroft was dramatic and eccentric enough to rectify it as that, wasn't he?
Even as Mycroft spoke concerning Moriarty, Elina crossed one leg over the other, sat back comfortably and gazed fondly to the little curl in the fringe of his thinning air, to his immaculate jawbone that tempted herself to draw her tongue across the skin pleasurably, to his chest that she would love to one day, if the universe was ever in her favour, to run her hands across.
To state it in short, Elina was welcoming every dirty thought passing in her mind about her boss. Sexually, known by past lovers, Elina was a freaky girl and it was something she was innocently proud of.
"Also..." She finally spoke up, having about enough of her incessant thoughts and wanting to move past the fact that she was definitely sexually frustrated. "The schools Sherlock went to were the same ones James Moriarty also attended. He was also admitted to a psychiatric ward at seventeen with the number of thirty individuals blood on his hands hypothetically, finally being diagnosed as a psychopath by one Doctor Meredith Hardy." She summed up in short.
A hum was all she received from Mycroft before he pushed the files away to talk. "It's pleasant to know that you have done your research, Xena." It wasn't remotely hot in the office but Elina was emotionally working up a sweat. "I hate to suggest it but serving that your brother and his... Doctor..." She couldn't find a better way to describe John Watson. "Are at the Baskerville base, the only way anyone will extract information on Mister Moriarty is if it's you and you abide by his rules and give him something in return." She talked in a way that suggested how she was mildly ordering him to.
