"I know you dislike going undercover but the Queen has asked for you personally." The older man ran a hand through his greying hair, unappreciative of his role in all this. He feared and respected the hawklike man before him- but mostly feared. "Mr. Holmes, you of all people should understand and appreciate the significance of that." He swallowed hard. If anyone could deny the royal family of something and not suffer the consequences, it was Mycroft Holmes. But he didn't want to be the one to have to relay the news to the Queen that her request had been denied by the standoffish man before him.
Ignoring him, Mycroft twirled his umbrella absentmindedly. He knew he couldn't deny a request from the Queen herself. And the knowledge that she specifically requested him- well, he couldn't deny that it pleased him a bit. He felt that it befit his station to have such trust placed in him- not that it wasn't done every day. (After all, he almost singlehandedly ran the country on a daily basis, but he'd never admit to it.) It was simply pleasant to be more-or-less publicly appreciated for once. But he couldn't bring himself to savour the idea of going undercover once again. All that legwork, and the people he had to deal with- it left a bitter taste in his mouth. But he couldn't see a way out without dismissing the Queen's desires.
Sighing, he shifted his weight to his umbrella and looked down at the head of the Secret Intelligence Service. "Given the fact that I'm speaking to you rather than the official head of the Security Service, I assume I'm to be sent overseas." There, he had accepted without accepting. If it was too disagreeable, he could refuse without breaking any sort of verbal agreement.
He looked the man over again. He was tense, body held almost at attention. His eyes kept flitting over to the papers scattered about the table. 'The file.' He scanned what words he could see for anything identifying but there seemed to be nothing. 'Wait, gray- American spelling.' He looked closer and saw several other words spelt oddly. To the man before him, it would have seemed like a glance at himself then the file- nothing in-depth- but it was enough. "To America." He involuntarily made a face of distaste. He had been to America several times on business and found it left plenty to be desired. But he had never been undercover there. He felt assured that it would be much worse. How he loathed undercover work.
"Yes," the man replied shortly as he gathered the file, relief flooding his body. Mycroft watched his posture relax marginally and gave a rather cold smile. Fear was good; fear kept people working efficiently. And he could see that the man had plenty of fear for him. "Read this in its entirety on the flight. It'll explain your cover and what you're trying to find," the older man instructed as he handed over the Manila folder and hesitantly met the piercing blue eyes before him. "Good luck, sir."
The aeroplane hit a bit of turbulence and jolted Mycroft Holmes out of his memories. He forced his gaze to return to the file on his lap and sighed heavily. He could have said no. Nothing would have changed. They simply would have sent an agent from MI6 to deal with the issues in America. But he felt it would be better to have this little favour to fall back on. And given the events of the past couple days, quite the favour it would be. Ever the businessman- Mycroft Holmes