Sherlock Imagines

Dentist👩🏻‍⚕️Mycroft

Prompt- Mycroft goes to the dentist

Warnings- Grumpy Mycroft

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You entered the dentist's office, Mycroft in tow. He wasn't happy about coming, but you made him. He did, after all, need three fillings. All that cake gave him cavities.

Mycroft sat in a brown leather chair that was close to the door. His umbrella was propped against the chair, and he picked up a magazine. You checked him in, and sat in the chair next to him.

"They'll numb you up so you don't feel anything, and—if you're polite—they may give you gas. Do you want me to go in there with you?" Mycroft sighed, closing the magazine and tossing it onto a table.

"I don't believe that I could go in there without you," he admitted. You smiled slightly. Mycroft admitting this was a huge deal for you. Normally, he was independent and liked to do things himself.

"Alright," you said. Mycroft gave you a sincere smile, which was rare for him. He was known to plaster on some fakes in his time. It was part of the intimidation he liked to press on others.

"Holmes? Mycroft Holmes? We're taking you back now," a female dentist said. Mycroft stood, umbrella in hand, and sighed. You rose from your seat, following him into the back.

The dentist led him to a chair and slipped on some latex gloves. Mycroft handed his umbrella and phone to you, sitting in the chair. You sat in a wooden chair in the corner of the room.

"May I have 'laughing gas' as you call it? I'm rather fond of its effects," Mycroft asked the dentist. The dentist rose an eyebrow, but nodded nonetheless. She prepared the equipment and made sure everything was sterilised—which was supposed to be done beforehand.

"Open your mouth as wide as you can. You may feel a pinch along your gumline," the dentist said. Mycroft opened his mouth as he was instructed, and the dentist injected his gums with Novocane.

You cringed, having never seen this from the corner of the room before. The dentist placed the needle in a bin, and prepared more equipment.

"You okay?" you asked. Mycroft glared at the ceiling.

"Yes. Fine," he insisted. You smiled at his grumpiness.

"Looks like somebody's got a frowny face," you said. Mycroft turned his glare on you. He gritted his teeth together. You—still smiling—shook your head at his childish nature.

"Gritting your teeth isn't good," you teased. Mycroft narrowed his eyes. The dentist glared at you.

"Are you in here to taunt my patient? Or is there another reason?" she asked. You frowned at the dentist's behaviour; why was she so riled up all of a sudden?

"Let her be. She's my wife," Mycroft said. His face contorted with every word from the partial facial paralysis. You smiled slightly. It was true—you were Mycroft's wife—but he never truly acknowledged it.

"Yes, but can't she sit in the waiting room? If she's taunting you, it makes my job harder," the dentist said. You rolled your eyes.

"He asked me to be in here with him, therefore, here am I," you said. The dentist let out a puff of air.

"Alright, but please don't taunt him right now," she said. Mycroft rolled his eyes. It wasn't like your taunting never happened. He always ignored it.

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Mycroft sighed, holding his arm out for you. You hooked your arm through his.

"I usually hate the dentist, but now, I hate the dentist with a burning passion," Mycroft said. You smiled at his facial contortion.

"Darling, it's necessary to go. Unless, of course, you want rotting stumps for teeth," you said. Mycroft furrowed his brows and looked down to you.

"How can you be so nonchalant about rotting stumps?" he asked.

"The same way you're nonchalant about the deaths of agents upon their retrieval of information," you said. Mycroft gave you a look—the 'we're in public' look—and sighed.

"Well, I would rather have rotting stumps than go to the dentist," he said. You cringed.

"Good luck without me then. I wouldn't be around if you had rotting stumps," you said. Mycroft frowned.

"Why not? Wouldn't you find rotting stumps attractive?" Mycroft asked. You grimaced. Mycroft smiled.

"I would prefer you go to the dentist," you said. Mycroft grimaced.

"Not that specific dentist," he said. You agreed.

"But you still have to go to the dentist nonetheless," you said. Mycroft sighed. The thought of going to the dentist was disturbing to him.

"Did you have an experience with the dentist as a child?" you asked. Mycroft nodded.

"You poor thing. But you still have to go to the dentist."