❛ I'M REACHING OUT AND I JUST CAN'T TELL YOU WHY ❜
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 an untouchable and a self-proclaimed consulting detective band together in the most unlikely of ways
[ bbc sherlock holmes x fem!oc ]
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"CHANGING YOUR PERFUME WAS A RATHER ingenious idea, Rockefeller. I didn't think you had it in you to come up with something as smart as that, but again I stand corrected. And don't be stupid, you won't have to stand in this horrible little room."
Poppy breathed a sigh of relief as Mycroft turned around and produced a mug of tea and two biscuits on a chipped plate for himself, settling in one of the arm chairs against which his umbrella was resting. "You can sit instead." He pointed to the high-backed armchair opposite that looked right into the kitchen. "I don't want to sit in your brother's chair. You can though, and I'll take John's."
Mycroft just lifted up the floral-printed china mug to his lips and took a sip in responce, dunking in one of the biscuits he'd snapped in to three pieces afterwards. "So you, er, just helped yourself to some refreshments then, did you?" Begrudgingly Poppy sank down into the green armchair Sherlock had declared as his own and reached for the smallest chunk of biscuit still on the plate.
Her hand was swatted away by Mycroft. "Resist, Rockefeller. You've put on two stone since I last saw you three weeks ago. Working in the establishment next-door hasn't shone fortune in your direction, has it?"
It took everything in her to not lean over the low-resting coffee table between the two of them to slap the smirk clean off of Mycroft's face. Instead she dug her fingers into the arms of the chair until her nails created crescent shapes in the material and her knuckles turned white. "At least I don't have to have new clothes tailored for me every week. How's your diet coming along? Is that a new waistcoat? I don't think I've seen that one before."
"Don't be petty, Rockefeller."
"Don't make comments about people's weight, Mycroft."
They both stared at each other through air that was heavy and palpable with tension, Mycroft's fingers running around the rim of his mug and Poppy's relaxing and returning to their normal colour. Then she broke the pregnant silence by clearing her throat. "And I know."
"There are a great many things to know in this world, Rockefeller, so what is is specifically that you are now aware of."
"Changing the perfume. I've decided that Hannah Newbury prefers to be more sultry in her way of living than I do. And she also wasn't best pleased to be spending sixty five pounds on the smallest bottle so any kind of way that money can get into my bank account would be greatly appreciated."
"Is the money that I'm already supplying you with not sufficient enough?"
Poppy raised her eyebrows and stood abruptly to stare out of the window and on to the path below. "Oh, it is. I just think you should be charged for making me tear up my life on the other side of London for your brother. Who, as I can see right now, is walking in through his front door with John. So tick tock, time's running out."
