I am not lonely [Mystrade]

CHAPTER 41 : Dining and fencing

The car dropped Mycroft in front of 10 Downing Street. Turning his collar up and looking to the floor, the official dashed to the door a porter had opened for him, quickly entering what was probably the most famous place of Great-Britain after Buckingham palace and 221B Baker Street. He handled his coat to the porter before following another employee to the Prime Minister office in the back of thebuilding. He usually prefered using the back door or coming directly through the corridor connecting the PM's residence with the Cabinet Office building on White Hall but, willing to show that he had even the most obscure government officials in his pocket, Sir Peter Bowling, the new Prime Minister, had insisted that the auburn arrived by the front door, exposing himself to the army of photographers and journalists that were nearly sleeping in front of number 10 since the election six days earlier.
"Mr Holmes ! Good evening !" greeted Bowling, shaking his interlocutor's hand.
"Prime Minister." nodded the auburn in his cold but polite voice, scanning the man in front of him from head to toe. He was wearing a bad suit but Mycroft could tell that he was doing this on purpose to look more working-class because his shirt was of the finest poplin nicely adjusted and he was using spray tan and anti-age creams which was the mark of someone taking care of himself. This kind of attitude, destined to fool the people, trying to make them think you were someone else than who you really was, was, in the eyes of the auburn, one of the most annoying habits of the politicians and certainly the one he despised the most, giving him instantly a bad opinion on this new Prime Minister. From this kind of attitude on his clothing, the official could just guessed that the man would be one of the annoying type who always pretend to be in charge when they were just nothing and that he was going to try to give order to everyone when the world actually turned the other way round.
"Please, take a seat !"Bowling invited him. "So the famous Mr Holmes ... You seem to be absolutely essential to this country apparently from what I've heard!"
"I suppose someone have to do the dirty job." answered the latter guardedly, already annoyed by the use the PM was doing of exclamative sentences, a trait that reminded Mycroft of the attitude of a young teenage girl in front of her favourite boysband.
"By the way I'm sorry for the journalists and photographers in the front, I guess someone like you prefer to stay in the shadow !" continued the other man, absolutely not sorry. "I can't get rid of them since I've moved in ! They can be rather irritating, but well you know that don't you ?"
"From what I know, journalist are rarely turning their back to Downing Street Mr Bowling." replied the official, faking not to have noticed the reference to his own issue with the Daily Mail.
"I suppose it's one of the drawbacks that comes with the function." sighed the PM, straightening the frame displayed on his desk in an oblivious gesture.
"I don't think it's the worst but it could be one yes." agreed the auburn, thinking to himself that with this level of work on himself and this use to superfluous conversations, the new Prime Minister was without any doubts one of those men who loved to hear themselves speak and who couldn't get bored with being everywhere on television and in the news.
"What's the worst, according to you Mr Holmes ?" wondered the man, suddenly sounding much more interested according to the tone of his voice which had moved from false and cordial to curious.
"Discovering that you don't have as much power as you think you have probably." retorted Mycroft with a discreet smirk, pinching a small dust ball from his suit.
"Why wouldn't I have the powers that are supposed to be accorded to the Prime Minister, according to the laws ?" questioned Bowling, now dead serious.
"Because there are greatest interests and protocols to respect. You can't do whatever you want just because a paper say you can. We have to take care to please our allies, not to thwart our enemies to badly, to protect our interests. These are the limits to your powers." explained the official, looking at the other man right in the eyes.
"And I suppose that's what you do, you and your colleagues ?" asked thePM, bitting his lower lip in frustration.
"More or less, yes."nodded the elder Holmes. "But don't worry you shouldn't see much of me however. I'm not directly attached to you."
"So who are you attached to then ?" enquire Bowling, his eyebrows frowned.
"The Queen, mainly. But I'm afraid I can't tell you much more." answered the official with a little smile, quite pleased with this power play.
The other man stayed silent during a few seconds, looking rather unpleased by the auburn's answer but he quickly put himself together and came back to his huge and fake smile. "Shall we continue this conversation over diner, Mr Holmes ?"
"Sure." agreed Mycroft, following the PM to the dining room where the table had been arranged for the two men and a waiter was waiting for their arrival. The auburn wasn't a great fan of business diner or lunch because that always mean that he was breaking his diet and that he would need to be even more careful during the weeks that followed.

"Are you sure you are not coming Gregory ?" asked his partner while putting his son his shoes.
"I'm sorry Myc', but I have some work to finish at the Yard. I'll try to drop by if I finish early enough." replied the detective with a little pout, grabbing his own coat.
"Right. Text me when you are done with it." accepted the auburn, placing a kiss on his lover's cheek. "Say goodbye to Papa, Alden."
"Bye bye !" repeated the little boy while before the inspector disappeared through the door. His father seized a white leather sport bag and took his hand, leading him to the car waiting for them in front of the house. He strapped him to his booster while the driver was putting the bag in the boot and they took off for the Diogene Club.
It was a bright February Sunday morning and Mycroft was in a great mood, enjoying a little father and son moment, the first since a long time, having been kept quite busy with the political uncertainty that was going on in midle-east at the moment, and he had decided to introduce his son to the delicate art of fencing, one of the few sports the auburn was actually very good at, even making it to the junior British national team when he was in Harrow.
The Diogene Club's fencing room was situated at the back of the building on the first floor and when he entered it, carrying his son in his arms, the official wondered why he had kept himself away from this place for so long, feeling the little excitation and joy he always felt when seeing all the foils and swords displayed on the racks against the walls. Smiling genuinely, he made his way to the changing room and entered one of the cabins, undressing himself and the toddler and putting up their fencing suits, his being already slightly threadbare of previous assaults when Alden's one was brand new and still pure white, not already turned greyish like his father's.
Letting his belongings in the cabin, the elder Holmes returned to the main room and grabbed a short foil on the racks before sitting in an armchair, his boy on his lap, starting to explain him what it was and how it was to be used. After a few minutes of explanations, he decided that the toddler was ready to have his first try and he handled him the weapon before walking him to a little mat and kneeling for his torso, the main target in fencing, being at the right height to be reached by the kid.
After a first quite unsure touch, the little boy started to gain confidence and to have fun and his father noticed that he naturally had a very good body position and a nice balance, two things that Mycroft also had and which were one of the main reasons he had been good enough to make it to national team. They kept doing this during a few more minutes before the auburn decided that it was time to learn his son to move on the mat to avoid being touched. He grabbed himself a spoil and explained the new rule to the ginger who took his highly concentrated expression as if his life depended on what his father was explaining to him, making the latter chuckled gently.
During half an hour the two of them tried to place attacks on one and another, Mycroft making sure to measure his force and to get touch a few times to keep the toddler happy and interested in what was going on. Seeing that the little boy was starting to be tired after running in every direction for a long time, the official decided to end the session and brought his son back to the changing cabin.
"Would you like to come back here with Daddy one day ?" he asked the toddler while changing him.
"Yes ! I want to be Zorro again !"answered Alden with a huge smile.
Laughing genuinely, the auburn placed a small kiss in the ginger's hair. "You are already my little Zorro." he whispered to his ear making the boy giggle.
As he didn't thought the club's atmosphere would suit a two and a half years old, the elder Holmes withdrew the offer of taking a tea in one of the lounge and headed back to his car waiting, as usual, just in front of the stairs leading to the Diogene's front door.
"Where do you want to go sir ? Home ?" questioned the driver when they were all settled in the car.
"No. St Jame's Park please. Drop us on Birdcage Walk please." informed him the elder Holmes before turning to his son who was already asleep in his booster, tired by his morning activities. He took advantage of the journey time to send a text to Gregory, biding him to join them there when he would befinished with his work to spend the afternoon with his son, feeding the ducks and the squirrels and maybe enjoy one of those hot waffles the streets vendors used to sell in winter.

Many thanks to Ellie for that nice fencing idea :)