Mycroft opened the fridge, greeted by emptiness. He sighed, and quickly closed it again. "Another night of takeout," he thought sadly as he automatically reached for the menu of his favorite Chinese take out restaurant and pulled it off the fridge(he never did bother to take the few seconds to memorize the phone number). As he turned to pick up the phone strategically placed near the fridge for easy access, a flash of yellow caught his eye. He looked back to the fridge and was met with a glaring yellow post-note screaming "13th" at him. His head dropped into both his hands as he leaned against the wall. Takeout for the 13th time in only a month? He knew he'd been eating a lot of takeout, but he didn't know he had been eating THIS much. Having no choice, he picked the phone up and dialed the number.
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The Empty Fridge
FanfictionAn alternative ending to The Six Thatchers for the Mycroftians seeking more Quality Mycroft ContentTM
