Alright, this is a small little one shot from a Sherlock story I have been writing that I am going to post. But, for right now I suppose this could stand alone. This is a bit of an AU. I hope you like it.
I do not own any characters or settings... I don't own anything but my OC's, even though I would love to own a Sherlock... He could stay in my basement. :)
London always had people on the street, rain or not. The streets are always a glow with life, still somehow it stays quite, the city somehow feels small, cozy. The city is one of my favorite places, the never ending cafés and bookstores, the beautiful buildings that line the street. When I was younger I often missed being in a city that felt so homey. There's nothing better than a lovely midnight stroll. Wrapping my scarf closer to myself, hiding from the wind I swiftly avoid the couple snogging and jump as a police car lights up at the end of the street and zooms past me.
" feeling old dear goldfish?" How I hates that nickname. Suddenly, buckets of rain come pouring down, as if every feeling that voice brings back falls from the sky.
"Care to join me for a cup?" He asks, holding the door to a little cafe open. The wind mixed with the rain is almost painful. I run past him and into the little cafe, sadly my hair did not escape the wrath of the weather and I was soaking wet.
The cafe is completely empty aside from the little old women working behind the counter. He leads me to a seat in the corner of the cafe, pulling the chair out for me, and taking my coat, ever the actions of a gentleman.
" What could you possibly be doing here Mycroft?" I question him as he sits across from me. The little old women brings out two teas and a cupcake placing it in front of me.
He smiles, sipping his tea, " I was once told that no one should spend there birthday along and I do believe, " he glances at his wristwatch, " that it is now officially your twenty sixth birthday." If anyone ever had the nerve to utterly surprise me it was a Holmes.
It was indeed my birthday, I was walking home from the little gathering John and Mary had thrown for me but still this gesture from a man I had not seen in a little over a year and a half was odd. I watch him, watching me as I sip my tea. " You look like you have lost weight." I say around the weird silence. He smiles at me, an odd thing to see.
" You are doing better sense our last conversation." Ah, our last conversation.
" Yes, I am. Maybe, you can help me. My therapist is still not giving me the go to return back to work." I smile at him, " Could you maybe put in a word?"
He smirks, " Valentine, are you ready to go back to work?" He asks this in a Mycroft way like, he knows the answer but believes he knows better.
" I am. Things are different now. I-I am better. I'm over what has happened. All of it. I've moved, gotten my life together again. I need to be working." I inform him, like he didn't know that already.
" You no longer miss my brother." Another statement.
" What?"
" Thomas Brikstone, is that not his name?" And, there it is, the reason we are here.
" You showed up to talk about Thomas?" He simply stares, " I have moved on, from all of it. He worked with me and has helped." I bite my lip, " Its not serious or anything, just a few dates really but still. I cannot be afraid to live my life. Just because I am living does not mean- does not mean that I miss your brother any less, or am any less angry or heartbroken. I'm trying here though!" I try to explain my actions. I run my hands over the top of my mug, polka dot mugs.
" How is that going, Valentine? Your living?"
" I stopped drinking, well like I was." I look down, almost ashamed, like this was another person I had let down completely. " I miss him." I tell him as I stand up, reaching for my coat. "Thank you for the tea, Mycroft."
" Happy birthday Valentine."
