A Sherlock series 4 reader insert where you, the reader, are Mycroft's assistant who regularly helps Sherlock and John on their cases. You're often there to remind them all that they're all only human.
Rebrand began: 13/01/2019
Completed: 19/02/201...
Solicitude - care or concern for someone or something
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Urgh! Stupid alarm. Alarm? I don't have an alarm. You whack this alarm that isn't yours but is on your bedside that you also don't remember setting. Well that's odd. You get up and open your wardrobe, you notice a fancy looking box at the bottom. You open it and rummage amongst the tissue paper. Wow. A seriously expensive blazer, shirt and pencil skirt. There's a small card in the box as well.
[Y/F/N], For your first day I thought you'd appreciate this. -MH
You shake your head. Of course he'd know that I didn't have any smart clothes after the fire. You hold the clothes up against yourself. He'd also know my size as well. You go shower and get dressed. You walk up the stairs to the kitchen where Sherlock is sat at the table with his experiments. "Morning," you say to him. "Hm." You make a cup of tea and sit down on the settee in the living room. Your phone buzzes. You pick it up and read a text from Mycroft.
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You look up from your phone as John walks in, "Good morning." He says to you with a smile. You smile back, "Morning." "You off out soon?" You nod, "About five minutes, you?" "Yes. I'm going to see my wife." "What's her name?" "Mary." He smiles wider at the mention of her. He must really love her. "You'll have to introduce me sometime." "Of course. I'd love to." "Do you want dropping off?" "Oh no it's fine, I'll probably head out a bit later." "Ok, see you later." "Bye." As you're walking out you notice a navy wool coat hung up near the door. You pick it up and shrug it on. "Bye Sherlock!" You call out to him. You walk down the stairs and out the front door. You instantly recognise one of Mycroft's cars. The driver's door opens and Mycroft gets out. You frown and walk over to the car, "I thought your driver was going to take me?" He smiles at you, "Change of plans. Is that a problem?" Mycroft opens the passenger door for you and you smile at him, "Not at all." He gets in next to you and starts driving. "Thank you," you say to him. "For the ride home last night... and the coffee... and the flat... and the job... and for driving me to work." He chuckles, "Anything else?" "I think that's it." You smile at each other and soon fall into comfortable silence. When you get to the office he shows you your office which has a door leading from yours to his, and he gives you a list of work to get done by the end of the day.
After a few hours Mycroft comes out of his office into your to check on you. In the meantime you've created a pros and cons list over whether Mycroft has redeemed himself for taking your job which looks as follows,
Pros -gives me a new job -gives me a flat -gives me new belongings -has been generally nice to me Cons -stole my old job -apparently mean sometimes
"How are you doing?" He leans over and taps the front of your desk. "Bored." You answer leaning your head back. "Bored?" "Yes, bored." "How can you be bored? I gave you all those files..." "Sorted them. Alphabetical to the very last letter. Chronological to the very last second. Done." "And my schedule?" "Sorted. This month. And next month. And the month after that. I even organised Christmas." "Christmas? It's January." "Yep. You're staying at your parents' house, I invited Sherlock but he said he was busy so I offered to go with you instead. Also John forced Sherlock to invite you to their Christmas Eve party, Sherlock made some comment about you not having a date so I said you were taking me. You're welcome." He narrows his eyes at you and gives you a false smile. "Thank you," he says sarcastically. You grin at him. "Is there nothing I can do? No work?" "No work." You sigh at that. So boring. "Well, no office work." "What do you mean?" "There is some field work that needs doing, I am supposed to find a suitable agent to accompany me and think I have made my selection." "And?" He clears his throat, "[Y/F/N], would you like to join me for a drink as a married couple to spy on the Russian ambassador?" You laugh and he smirks. "Mycroft dear, I would love to." "Shall we?" He says, offering his arm. "We shall."
You both walk into the restaurant, Mycroft's arm around your waist. "Reservation under Holmes," he says to the attendant at the door. He barely checks the list before showing you to your table. This place is fancy. There's a pianist playing and several couples dancing, there's all sorts of elegant decorations everywhere. Mycroft pulls out your chair and you sit down. "Thank you." "Drinks, sir?" The waiter gestures to the drinks list. You look at the list, overwhelmed. So many drinks. What do half these mean? Is it in French? It can't be French I know French. Italian maybe? You glance at Mycroft nervously. He seems to notice and orders the same for both of you. "I chose a light wine for us since you don't drink much," he says leaning his elbows on the table and resting his arm near yours. You sigh in relief, "Thank you." He smiles, "My pleasure." He takes a quick glance to a table two rows away. "Is that them?" "Yes." He takes something out of his pocket and slides it across to you, "It might be best if you wear this. For added detail." He intertwines his fingers with yours and slips a ring onto your wedding finger. "Most girls would be horrified at pretending to be married." "I'm not most girls and this is hardly the worst thing I've had to do on a mission." "Most people would find my company torturous." You immediately frown at that, "As I've said I'm not most people and I think that you should stop listening to your brother because I doubt he actually means any of it." After a while you add, "I don't find your company torturous. Quite the opposite in fact." He raises his eyebrows at me. "Would you care to dance with me, [Y/N]?" "I would be my pleasure Mycroft dear." He takes my hand and we walk towards the dance floor. He places his hand against your ribs as you dance to the music. "Mycroft," you say. "If you want to convince anyone that we are a young, married couple of this century, you may want to lower you hand a little." He raises his eyebrows at you, "Very well," he says. He pulls you closer, your hand slips onto his chest and his hand drops to your waist. "Better?" Your only capable answer is a nod. He smiles at you as you continue to dance. You clear your throat, "So, what do we need to do?" "Just watch them and see who they're meeting with." You nod. "So nothing majorly important. No world crisis?" He laughs, "It's only your first day, I don't want to overwhelm you." "So there is a world crisis." "There are crisis' everyday." "Then why aren't we working?" "We are." "My dear Mr Holmes I believe you are mistaken, I think in fact we are dancing." "Are we?" "You know for a man well known for his observation skills, you are not very observant." "Aren't I?" "And as someone known to never shut up, I'm sure you could give me a better answer, containing more than two words." "Do you usually speak in paragraphs, Miss [Y/L/N]?" "That depends." "Who's using only two words now?" He twirls me around. "Was that meant to stop me from answering?" "It was worth a try." The music stops and you walk back to your seats. The ambassador must have left while we were dancing, Mycroft will have noticed. "I believe it's around lunchtime now so would you care to spend here with me?" "Of course," you reply. "I'd love to." Maybe he's not too bad at all.
