A/N: Hello everyone! This is part of a little collection of stories I'm working on, but I decided to post it ahead of time. It's different than my usual stye and I had a lot of fun writing it. The beginning is a bit droll but it gets a bit better, and it is pretty short. It's basically a Mybrella (Mycroft/his umbrella) parody, no offense to supporters of that of course! Well, please R&R and enjoy!
Mycroft sat in his office stroking his new umbrella. He'd just gotten it, it was custom-made as to not break as easily as his other ones had. It was reinforced with byzantium, a special kind of metal available only to people of the highest rankings. It was illegal to question where it came from, to do so results in immediate mind-wiping.
Mycroft sighed a hefty government official sigh. Everytime one of his umbrellas break, a bit of his heart breaks as well. They usually broke while beating up Sherlock's various fans. Mycroft turned on the Sher-cam and watched him sleeping on the couch. Mycroft usually did this a few hours every night to calm his nerves. He mindlessly twirled his umbrella like Mary Poppins while watching Sherlock twitch and call out for John in his sleep.
"You'd better not break on me now, little umbrella." he murmured gently. Why did he love umbrellas so much? Mycroft loved them nearly as much as eating cake and stalking Sherlock. Well, umbrellas are sleek, beautiful, thin, useful, and waterproof. He read on his monthly TeenNow Magazine that those were good traits to look for in a lover.
Mycroft gasped dramatically and clutched his chest for no reason in sudden realization. If the umbrella is a good lover, make the umbrella his lover! It was ingenious!
"I think I'll call you Ella. Listen, I have something incredibly important to tell you. I...I think I'm in love with you. Please don't say anything yet! I feel as if all the umbrellas i've had before were actually you! We're soulmates, we're destined to be together! Ok, I know this is sudden, but...will you marry me?" Mycroft said, getting down on one knee and pulling a Ring Pop from his pocket.
The umbrella wobbled a bit, as if so moved by the sudden confession it was gaining a life. Alas,it didn't because magic doesn't exist, and neither do flying blue boxes and angels fighting wars in heaven. Mycroft saw it as an answer though and slipped the ring on the handle, eyes sparkling. He could not cry though as the government had removed his tear glands.
"I promise to make you the happiest brolly ever.", he said. They went over to the couch to get more comfortable. "I know it's soon, but I just feel so close to you. May I?" With that he leaned down and kissed the handle, filling his soul with passion and his mouth with splinters.
At that moment his assistant Claire walked in and gasped in extreme shock. Mycroft rolled his eyes and said into thin air, "She's fired. Take her to the vaults men." Two men in blacker than black suits and Coach sunglasses dropped from the ceiling and tackled her. They dragged her away kicking and screaming. A pretty young lady appeared tweeting furiously on her BlackBerry. 'Guess who just got promoted? #topsecret #government #shit'
"Hello, I'm, umm, Anthea and I'll be your new assistant." she said. Mycroft nodded. "Very well then, do you think you can give us some privacy?" he asked with a voice as cold as an ice cream truck.
"Of course, sir." she said, too busy instagramming her new promotion to notice anything strange.
"Now then," Mycroft said with a smile that could melt puppies, "where were we?"
