The Most Dangerous Game | Sherlock Holmes

11

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"The devil's agents may be of flesh and blood, may they not?"

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

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GALINA WAS CHEERFULLY BRUSHING AWAY THE FLOUR off Mr. Chatterjee's cheeks when the loud clanging of bells halted her delicate fingers.

Speedy's, for whatever reason, had been dreadfully vacant for the majority of the day. Since working there, Galina had noticed that not many people visited the tiny cafe, but there were a few regulars who made sure to come in at least once a week.

The weather outside was dreadful with thick grey clouds and ominous thunder, so she figured that was the reason why she and Mr. Chatterjee had the day to themselves.

She smiled widely at the sound of the door pushing open and twirled around to greet the newcomer.

That is until she realized who the newcomer was.

"Mycroft," Galina said, brushing her hands against apron as she walked around the counter. "Что ты здесь делаешь (what are you doing here)?"

Mycroft smiled tenderly at her but sneered when he lifted his hand to see a sliver of dust coating his fingers. With a scowl, he promptly retrieved his handkerchief and wiped away the dirt, making sure to do the same to his seat as he sat down at the counter. The poor Mr. Chatterjee noticed all of that, and with resounding disdain, excused himself to the back storage room.

Galina pouted as he walked away and she turned to Mycroft with pursed lips and her hands planted on her hips. 

"That was not very nice," Galina said, heading back around the counter to put some sort of physical barrier between her and Mycroft. She was in a particularly good mood and refused to have it soured by the urge to beat him with his own cane.  

"Малыш (little one)," Mycroft said affectionately, wiping down the counter before clasping his hands atop it. "I came here because I supposed an apology was in order."

Galina rolled her bottom lip into her mouth and looked down in aloofness. "Well, is there an apology coming?"

Mycroft frowned and seemed to use all his will power to speak. Clearing his throat, he sat up straighter and seemed to roll his neck awkwardly from side to side as he adjusted his tie.

 "I am..." he coughed, wrinkling his forehead in forced concentration and intense pain "...sorry."

Galina's head snapped up with a wide smile. 

Galina Ivanov- of course- was an empath so she had already sensed how remorseful Mycroft was the second he stepped foot into Speedy's. His aura was dripping with the pungent smell of anxiety and she had felt her heart begin to rapidly beat as soon as he sat down. 

She could have saved Mycroft the trouble of verbally apologizing- which truly did seem to have cost him some amount of physical pain- but Galina would not let him off that easy.

She had brought up a facade of bitterness and reproach even though her mind had already settled on forgiving him. She wanted to hear him apologize. She wanted him to realize how much power his words had on not only her but also his brother. 

She was well aware that Mycroft Holmes was not likely to ever change, but she needed him to understand that his authoritative part he had played in her life was over. He had the feelings of an apologetic man and had said the actual words, but she knew that deep within him he didn't believe it was necessary.