A/N: On Mycroft's left hand he wears a gold ring, Mark Gatiss says it's not a wedding ring, but likes to think it is a story behind it, this is my version of it. I tried my best to keep it in character, but since Mycroft is awesome it is a little hard. This may be a little OOC. Sorry if the analyze things doesn't really make sense, I'm not really got with it.
The Plain Gold Ring
Mycroft Holmes tapped his fingers against the table. The meeting was as boring as ever. Death and decay. That's what the meeting was about. That's what every meeting was about. Mycroft didn't bother to listen; he already knew what it was about. Everybody around the table seemed to be either bored to death or concerned to death.
Mycroft's eyes were drawn against chair. It's been empty quite a while now. The chair looked like all the other chairs, cold and uncomfortable, the only difference was that this chair was empty. It would only be empty for a while, only until they have found a new one.
When the meeting was over; Mycroft took his umbrella and briefcase and disappeared down the hallway. He half expected her to stand in the hallway with her earphones on.
Mycroft walked to his office with his assistant Anthea right behind him. She wore a white shirt and black skirt, and had on high heels that made sound on the marble floor for each step. Her hair brown hair was loose. She had all her attention on her phone.
"Excuse me, Sir, but Sherlock Holmes and John Watson has broken into a science lab again. They are arrested," she said indifferent.
Mycroft shook his head and sighed.
"Let Watson out, but let my brother stay for while. He will take it as a punishment," Mycroft said just as indifferent, his little brother breaking into a science lab wasn't very unusual.
"Fine, Sir," Anthea said.
When they reached his office he set his briefcase and umbrella on his desk.
"You've got some reports to fill out, Sir," Anthea said and handed him a pile of reports.
Mycroft sighed. It never ends, he thought.
Half through the reports his attention was drawn towards the gold ring on his left hand. The ring wasn't fancy; it was just a plain gold ring. It was the gold ring she gave him before she disappeared.
She wasn't exactly the world's most beautiful woman with her light red hair, golden eyes and freckled body, but she was clever. That's what mattered the most to Mycroft Holmes.
Her name was Verna McGinty. She wasn't boring like most of his colleagues. She was sarcastic, smart and hard to understand; even for him.
The first time he saw her was at meeting to discuss North Korea. She just came from nowhere. Her hair was braided into a ponytail and she wore a dark purple shirt and black slacks and wore low heels. Around her neck she had earphones on. She worked for the Government, but he had never seen her before.
Shortly after he grew bored of her and moved on to the others around the table; one was having an affair, one just had coffee and one had a brother in jail.
Lucky man, Mycroft thought, just a week before Sherlock had used his ID to get top secret information and had gotten himself in a lot of trouble.
Half through the meeting Verna McGinty caught his eye. She looked at him and smiled; it wasn't a "nice to meet you" smile or an "it's a pleasure to meet you" smile. It was an "I'm going to die of boredom" smile. Mycroft frowned, to smile under a meeting wasn't usual, people were always too busy to talk and worry.
After the meeting Mycroft walked to his office with Anthea behind him as usual, but he stopped at the sight of Verna McGinty with earphones in her ears. That was unusual for a woman in the Government to do after a meeting.
"Sir?" Anthea asked when Mycroft stopped.
"It will only take a moment," Mycroft assured her and walked towards Verna McGinty.
When she noticed him approaching she took of the earphones.
"Hello, Miss McGinty," he said and smiled his kindest smile.
"Yes, and you are?" She asked.
Mycroft blinked, he never needed to introduce himself to anyone, but he only smiled.
"My name is Mycroft Holmes," he said and held out his hand.
She didn't take it.
"So you're the genius?" She asked.
"Pardon?" Mycroft asked and pulled back his hand.
"You are the man that can read a man's life story only by looking at him, aren't you?" She said and held out her hand.
He took it.
"I assume it was your colleges who said that," he said.
"Yes, it was, actually." She said, "So what can you see?"
She held out her arms and turned in a circle.
"Excuse me?" Mycroft asked.
She looked disappointed.
"Can you read people or not?" She asked a little annoyed.
"I only observe," Mycroft answered.
"Then what can you observe now?" She asked.
Mycroft sighed he didn't like to show off like his brother, but he swallowed his pride.
"You want to be taken seriously by your male bosses and wear only clothes that hides you body, your name and appearance suggests you are half Scottish, by the way you smiled to me under the meeting suggests you don't take your job seriously and the only reason you started to job in the Government was to make someone proud, most likely you parents," Mycroft looked at her to find any kind of shock or admiration, but she didn't look impressed at all.
"I'm surprised that most people don't see that," she said and laughed.
Mycroft blinked, this was not the usual reaction, most people were impressed and asked him annoying questions on how he did it.
"Do you know what I see?" She asked, "I see a man that works for the Government and M16, but still thinks his job is boring. I see a man that is worried about someone and-"she took a step closer to him, "I see man that's on a diet."
"You are correct," was everything Mycroft could say.
She laughed.
"Really? I was just guessing," she said, if she meant it or not Mycroft couldn't say.
When he didn't say anything she just shrugged, put her earphones back on and walked down the hallway without a single goodbye.
"More reports?" Mycroft asked when Anthea came into his office with more papers.
"No, Sir, only a letter from the prime minister," Anthea handed him the letter.
"Of course," Mycroft sighed, it was true what Verna said; his job was quite boring.
The second time he saw her was on a plane, on luxury class, of course. Her hair was loose and she wore a loose black skirt and a white shirt, and had on low heels again.
She sat down on the seat beside him on the plane to Berlin. She had her earphones on again.
"Hello again, Miss McGinty," Mycroft said, she took the earphones out of her ears.
"Hello, Mr. Holmes. I haven't seen you after that boring meeting," she said and smiled.
"No, I've been quite busy," Mycroft said and smiled.
He had used the last week to get his brother out of trouble.
"Right," she said and put her earphones on again.
They didn't speak again before the food was served.
"Tell me," Mycroft said, "did you just guess the observations you read of me the last time we met or did you know?"
"Well, I've had a little chat with your assistant Anthea," Verna said without looking up from her dinner.
"She told you that?" Mycroft asked a little surprised, Anthea was a good assistant and it wasn't alike her to do so.
"Well, she hinted it," Verna said, "but I guessed about the diet."
Mycroft tried to smile, but he had to admit he felt a little embarrassed.
"Is it a business trip to Berlin?" Verna asked.
"Something like that," Mycroft mumbled, he got a letter from a man called Jim that asked him to come Berlin and to solve a murder, normally Mycroft wouldn't bothered with that kind of things, but something about the letter made him curious.
Something golden on Verna's ring finger caught his attention. It wasn't a wedding ring, much too plain and simple and too big for her finger. It was a plain gold ring.
Mycroft would have lied if he said he knew her well, he only saw her three times and he hardly thought about her. Mycroft have never really cared for love or affection and to say he had feelings about her would be a lie. Or he did have feeling for her, but not romantic in any way, it was more of admiration.
On the way home from work in the big, black car, Mycroft Holmes studied the newspaper with his brother and John Watson on the first page, "Hat-man and Robin: The Web Detectives" it said. Sherlock wore a deer stalker, probably to hide his face from the journalists, that didn't quite fit with his black coat.
Mycroft couldn't help but to smile at the photograph, Sherlock did not look amused.
One page two in the newspaper was the article about the disappearance of Verna McGinty.
Verna McGinty (36) disappeared from work on the 26th of May. She was last seen by a colleague leaving work, as seen on the photograph under the article. If you got any information about Verna McGinty's disappearance please contact the police by the following number.
The "Colleague" was Mycroft. It wasn't true he only saw her leave, he also talked to her, and then she left.
The third and last time he saw her was in his office; he just came from another boring meeting and saw her sit behind his desk. She smiled at him.
"You are not working in the Government," Mycroft said at last.
Verna laughed.
"I'm surprised that most people don't see that."
"You recorded all the meetings with the microphone hidden in your headphones," Mycroft said and walked around the desk to get a better look at her.
She wore a loose, black dress and high heels this time, her hair was straight. She had her headphones around her neck as usual.
"You knew it all along, and still you didn't stop me," she said and stood up from the chair.
"I thought you were smart enough to stop yourself," Mycroft said and sat down on his chair behind the desk.
The answer seemed to surprise her, but she put her poker face on.
"Well, I am," she said dramatically.
"Then why did you come here?" Mycroft asked and leaned forward.
"I've come to ask you not to expose me," she said, just like it was a normal conversation over a coffee.
"Why?" Mycroft asked.
"If I didn't ask at all and just left, people would know something is up and you, as the brilliant genius you are, would have known just what," she said and leaned towards him.
Mycroft leaned back and closed his eyes.
"You want me to lie," he said.
"Yes, that's what I said," she said and crossed her arms.
Mycroft opened his eyes and studied her.
"Then I got some conditions," Mycroft said, he rose from his chair and walked towards the window and stared outside.
"If it's within my power," Verna promised.
"I assure you it is," Mycroft turned and walked towards her and didn't stop before he stood in front of her, "first of all I want to know who you are working for, secondly I never want to see you here again-"
"That's fair," Verna said and nodded.
"And for the third; I want your ring."
Verna frowned in confusion.
"Why?"
Mycroft sighed.
"Confusion doesn't suit you, Verna," Mycroft said and stared in her eyes.
He didn't come with an explanation.
"Well," Verna said, "I guess it can be done."
She took of her ring and laid it on his desk.
"You second wish will be granted, Sir." Then she just turned and walked away, when she reached the doorway and she turned, "James Moriarty sends his love."
Mycroft walked to the meeting, the chair was wasn't empty anymore. In the chair sat a bold man in his late thirties with glasses. None of the other colleagues seemed to mind the man's horrible smell.
The meeting was as boring as ever. Death and decay. That's what it was all about.
After the meeting Mycroft walked to his office alone, he told Anthea to leave him alone a couple of minutes.
From his briefcase he found the folder about the case of Verna McGinty. It wasn't quite hard to get it, he only needed to ask.
Mycroft knew that someone would someday figure out that Verna McGinty didn't actually work for the Government. Mycroft wasn't the only smart head in the building.
He sat his briefcase on his desk. He took out a new document from the folder, a death certificate. It was easy enough to fake a murder; he only needed a dead body and doctor on his side. The whole world now thought Verna McGinty was dead.
True enough, she was dead, because she had never existed; Verna McGinty was probably just an alias. He never found out her real name, but he still thought of her as Verna McGinty or the plain, golden woman.
Mycroft stared at the ring, thinking about everything and nothing. After a minute Anthea came into the office, as indifferent as usual she said:
"Sherlock Holmes and John Watson has been arrested again, Sir."
Mycroft sighed and thought about the man that got his brother in jail; lucky man, he thought.
A/N: I sort liked the idea of "The Woman" to Mycroft. What do you think?