Anatomically Correct Heart

Mycroft

Eleanor made her way to Mycroft's home, which was just a 15 minute cab ride and a 5 minute walk away from 221B.

Eleanor loved Mycroft's house. It reminded her of her childhood, when she dreamed of an enchanted castle with a prince who walked its grounds. It was made of grey bricks and beautiful glass windows that you had to shut with old fashioned curtains. The Victorian house had no other name for it. Its vintage charm both outside and inside radiated a comfy, yet sophisticated feel. 

The walls were mainly soft wood that sometimes held a painting or one of the many bookshelves. Light engulfed the house from the many windows and there was almost no need for light sources. The furniture inside matched the history behind the house: rustic red loan chairs with the wood laced with intricate designs and beautiful wooden- well, everything: Desks, tables, chairs. The staircases were long and carefully placed, with red designed carpets splitting them just down the middle.

There were many rooms in the Holmes residence. Most of them were guest rooms, occasionally a few guests would stay there. There were a few offices, mainly not used, but Eleanor like to roam the house sometimes, just to discover another room. The dinning room was Eleanor's favorite. The long, slender table circled by beautiful designed dark wooded chairs. It reminded Eleanor of a proper English dining room, all prim and proper with not one thing out of sight. Mycroft's library was a favorite too. It held nearly a thousand books, with the comfiest chairs in the house and a desk Mycroft liked to work on. 

The owner of the house, Mycroft Holmes, was a familiar face Eleanor learned to know and trust. When she had first met him, she thought he was an up-kept man who cared for no-one but himself and his brother. She then grew to realize he was nice, and misunderstood. Although he sometimes had his moments, he was a charming man who liked to smile once and a while. His exterior might have fueled her initial thoughts. He had a soft square jaw and a face that screamed stress. His auburn hair was thinning, but given time it would grow into a mangy mess (like Sherlock's) so Mycroft liked to keep it short. He was nearly always seen in a three piece suit: tie pin, cufflinks, golden watch and all. He also walked with an Fox Umbrellas Ltd RGS2 Malacca Handle Umbrella, which Sherlock suspected concealed a sword. Overall, Eleanor found him rather charming, no matter what others said.

Mycroft looks at his phone and sighs, setting down his pen and rubbing his temples. "He's worried about you," Mycroft says, getting up and showing me his phone.

Is Eleanor there with you?

"I'd rather not talk about Sherlock right now, Mycroft," She says. "Tell me what's new with you. Any bomb attacks I should be worried about?"

"You know I can't tell you about work," Mycroft says. "The paperwork would be ghastly."

Eleanor laughs. "Then tell me what's new in Mycroft Holmes' life."

He looks off into the distance as if to search is brain for something. "I've got nothing."

Eleanor sighs. "You're a bore, Mycroft."

"Have you heard any word from... James?" Mycroft asks.

Eleanor rolls her eyes. "Ah, yes. He's invited me to Christmas dinner and he's getting married to a lovely women named Isabelle."

Mycroft squints his eyes a bit. "Lying doesn't work on me, Eleanor." 

She looks over at him once, then bounces out of her chair. "What is it with you Holmes' boys always thinking I'm lying? What if James really did invite me to Christmas dinner? I know it'd be a long shot, being as he wants me dead, but still! It could happen!"

"You've met with him?" Mycroft asks, his voice slightly escalating. 

"Twice, actually. First time after you visited Sherll and I stormed off. He had his hitman take me to some place- please don't ask me where- and he roughed me up a bit. The more I think about it, Sherll said I was gone for a few nights. Anyway, the second time was just last night. This meeting was a little more flash guns beat her to a pulp but I do believe I concealed all my injuries pretty well before they dropped me off in the middle of nowhere this morning and made me find my way back to 221 in the freezing cold," Eleanor explains.

 Eleanor expected to hear Mycroft say, "You've met a dead criminal twice, and didn't tell me or Sherlock?" 

Instead, she felt arms wrap around her waist and pull her close to a warm body. She turned around and placed her head into Mycroft's chest. "How bad were you hurt?" Mycroft asks.

"Very badly."

Mycroft sighs and pulls her closer. "You should have told me."

"Or Sherlock."

~