Okay folks! It's 2:47 am and I'm suffering from the flu. Being confined indoors really doesn't do it for me and I'm bored. Being bored makes sleeping impossible and then I realized that writing a story while enjoying some tea works wonders on my insomnia.
Anyway, this story has been begging for me to write it after reading the Cosmopolitan some weeks ago. Hopefully you'll like it.
Disclaimer: I own neither Sherlock nor the Cosmopolitan magazine. I don't even have a Sedan, but a cute little Peugeot.
Mycroft entered the sleek Sedan according to his schedule. Noticing his assistant staring at him was not anything out of the ordinary, except that she had exchanged her ever-present blackberry for the latest issue of the Cosmopolitan.
As he sat down, she passed the magazine onto him and pointed at the article open in front of him. "This", she said, tapping the page with one perfectly manicured finger, "will help us in bringing The Plan to a conclusion." Mycroft's only answer was one slightly lifted eyebrow.
For a few seconds his eyes scanned the words on the paper. "Hmm… Yes, I think I do see what you mean." A small smile quirked his lips upwards. "My baby brother does have very loose hips. And being a medical man, convincing Dr. Watson will not cause us too much hassle."
Anthea smiled mysteriously at her boss. "Do you need me to bring this article to the doctor for…verification, sir?" She was a full-fledged matchmaker like him. One of the reasons why Mycroft had decided to hire her.
As the car pulled to a halt in front of the all too familiar door leading to the flat of the world's only consulting detective, Mycroft rolled up the glossy covered magazine and stepped out of the car. "My dear, as much as I appreciate your offer, I think it best that I pay a visit to my dearest brother in person. After all, one must inform Sherlock that his –admittedly beguiling- hips move in a way that makes it possible to have several orgasms during a coupling. Thus he might come even up with novel means on how to reward his loyal doctor friend for all that terrible running around in headless chases."
While the older Holmes brother walked towards the house wherein his reckless younger sibling co-habited with his brave ex-army doctor, Anthea stared after him hoping to get back her magazine.
In the magazine there had been this intriguing bit about a rich partner making the sex better and she had hoped to get that info to the notice of one certain DI at Scotland Yard. If there was one person in need of a good shag, it was Mycroft Holmes, her boss.
The End
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