Simple Addition (Mycroft Holmes)

Two Plus One

There's nothing on the telly. She's sung every song she knows by heart, including the entirety of Les Mis and Wicked. She even finished her book. Mycroft played the good husband and left the office to bring her lunch two hours ago, only to leave her again and return to work. Her stomach has started persistently gnawing on itself.

After five days of bedrest from the worst cold she's had in years, Dani is sick of these same four walls. Groaning, she rolls to the edge of the bed and pushes herself up. She plods into the bathroom to quickly wash her face. Glancing into Mycroft's hamper reveals the shirt from yesterday. Pleased and comforted, she snags it. She shimmies into some leggings and buttons the shirt on her way to the kitchen, quietly humming another round of songs.

Five minutes later, she's still staring into the pantry, the collar of Mycroft's shirt bunched up under her stuffy nose. She rocks on her heels, wondering if the coiling warmth in her stomach is anxiety, hunger, or boredom. She doesn't want to stand still, even preoccupied as she is with finding food. Her eyes flit from one corner to another. She's craving something. She just isn't sure what. Sighing, she starts to reach for the biscuits when a murmur of a voice reaches her. Frowning, Dani leans into the hallway and follows the voice to Mycroft's study.

"Of course," he's saying, "Tuesday then." She hears the frustrated clack of the phone being hung up and the creak of the chair as he sits back. Opening the door, she peeks in. He doesn't look up from his laptop but she takes his silence as permission to creep in. She perches on the edge of the desk, watching his eyes flit across the screen. He's wearing his glasses, the gold-rimmed ones she loves on him. His chin is propped in his palm with the fingers tapping impatiently on his upper lip. She loves this look on him, relaxed, focused, down to his rolled up shirt sleeves, his coif of hair falling into his eyes and his tie loosened.

After nearly four years together, she's still struck by how gorgeous he is. Her sister always wrinkles her nose when Dani says that. He's got the kind of looks one has to get used to. She can admit that he became more and more attractive as she grew to know him. Now that she knows him almost as well as she knows herself, she can tell he's ready to call it a day and unwind with a glass of wine. The thought of him sitting in his favorite armchair, book in one long-fingered hand and glass in the other, with his glasses slipping down his nose and that expressive mouth turned down in a focused frown, god. It makes her want... It makes her want. Smiling slowly, she crosses her legs and waits.

Loving someone on the asexual spectrum means she has to be careful about this sort of thing, careful and patient. Thankfully, living with Mycroft Holmes has taught her both of these. She might be able to tempt him this time.

With a sigh, Mycroft closes the laptop and leans back to look up at her. "Yes, love?"

"Are you busy with anything important?" She shoots for a soft, innocent tone. He gestures lazily to the lack of papers on his desk. He blinks slowly, his wrists draped over the arms of his chair, his eyes narrowed in that soft smile he gives her when she's charmed him somehow. He reaches up and tweaks the edge of the collar she's still clutching.

"This is dirty."

She shrugs. "Smells like you. I thought you left already."

His smile widens and he relaxes further into the chair, crossing one elegant leg over the other. "I thought I may as well work from home. What do I smell like, pray tell?"

Dani's momentarily distracted. Mycroft's relaxed air is the coiled energy of a jaguar, waiting, assured, unflappable. Paired with the way his voice deepens around the question, it makes her stomach do a little shimmy. Just watching him makes her mouth water. How in the world can he be so oblivious to his appeal? Doing nothing but sitting there, he tempts her to rough him up, to laugh into his kisses and disengage that wonderful brain, just for a few minutes. Food, she decides, can wait. Reaching over to push his leg down, Dani slides into his lap, smiling when his hand comes up to support her back.