Prologue
White House
President Obama's Inauguration Ball
Washington, DC, 2008
"I thought you didn't do field work, Mr. Holmes?" Nora asks, slipping into the black limousine behind Mycroft Holmes, the all-important British government official, whom she was apparently given the task to be his date to the Inauguration Ball, while retrieving information from a CIA agent on a joint mission with the American government; well, it was no skin off her back, this was much easier than sneaking in some other way, and Mycroft was easy on the eyes.
"I don't, Ms. Thompson. But, this event is attended by almost every important diplomat and government official. It is an unfortunate necessity in my line of work." Mycroft answers.
"And I got the short end of this stick to be your date?" Nora questions, raising a delicate brow as she fixes her clutch in her lap.
"I'm afraid I can't answer that question for you, Ms. Thompson. I believe someone else may have assigned you this assignment." Mycroft answers.
"Mr. Holmes, let's not beat around the bush here, if at all possible. There are plenty of capable agents in the agency… I didn't just get picked by random. I am not at all as dumb as you believe me to be. I may not be able to deduce the world around me as you can. But, I am not at all as stupid or unintelligent as you think." Nora gives Mycroft a look. "Now, let us see if we can survive the evening, shall we, darling?"
"Yes, let's." Mycroft offers, his shoulders stiffening just a touch to let Nora know she had managed to get under his Iceman's persona just a little.
"Ah, Ambassador Imari, Ayo, how are you? This is my-" Mycroft greets the African Ambassador and his wife.
"His wife, Nora. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ambassador Imari, Ayo." Nora pipes in from Mycroft's side, wrapping an arm around his waist while offering a hand to the Ambassador.
"Wife?" The Ambassador says, chuckling a little and looking surprised. "Well, I always thought it might be someone quite impressive to catch the eye the all-impressive Mycroft Holmes, the British government's Iceman. You must be quite something, Mrs. Holmes. When did this happen?"
"It- it was a quiet affair. We wanted to keep it small. Just family and a few close friends." Mycroft offers, looking distinctly uncomfortable at both Nora and the Ambassador's words.
"Ah, I see. Well, if you ever decide to have another ceremony. Please, my wife and I would love to come." The Ambassador smiles.
"Of course, Mr. Ambassador." Nora smiles graciously, placing her hand on Mycroft's arm.
"Imari, please."
"Then call me, Nora." Nora smiles again.
"Well, as much as my wife and I would love to continue to catch up, you know how these things are. Many people to see and talk to." The Ambassador offers.
"Of course, Ambassador Imari, Ayo." Mycroft replies formally, shaking Ambassador Imari's hand and then graciously kissing Ayo's before the two walk off.
"Ms. Thompson." Mycroft hisses, turning on Nora.
"Yes, dear?" Nora answers serenely.
"What are you playing at?" Mycroft asks, his tone severe as he practically hisses the question through his teeth. "What do you hope to gain from this?" He continues as they walk through the well-dressed crowd at the Inauguration Ball; it wasn't as if it wasn't a valid question in his mind, he had connections, he had wealth, and despite what he told people, he was practically a nose away from being the British government, all things that made being connected to him, something worthwhile.
"Please relax, Mycroft. I did us both a favor. You can't tell me that women aren't all over you at these thing." Nora rolls her eyes.
"That's why I was introducing you as my date."
"And, as if that really deters some of the serious-minded." Nora gives Mycroft a look. "I am a woman and a MI6 agent, Mr. Holmes. I have been hit on more times than I can count even with that line. Do you think saying 'I'm with a date' has detoured those men in the past?"
"Very well, I see your point. And for you then?" Mycroft sniffs a bit haughtily as if conceding pained him to do so.
"A certain CIA agent that can't take a hint." Nora answers blithely. "Do you remember being a MI6 agent?" She suddenly asks.
"What- of course?"
"Then, I'm sure you remember the importance of thinking on your feet."
"Of course, Ms. Thompson." Mycroft grits his teeth a little.
"Good. I'm doing just that... So, Mr. Holmes. Shall we?" Nora smirks at her boss, or rather her boss' boss' boss (something like that).