Chapter One: Another Umbrella
As far as dreary London days went, this one was by far the dreariest in quite some time.
Weather forecasts predicted a continuous onslaught of terrible weather for the rest of the week.
The death of Sherlock Holmes, was no longer plastered all over the front pages of the local papers.
In the place where his youngest brother's picture ought to be, there was the trivial news of some festival or other in China town.
Mycroft was not entirely sure if he should be disgusted or relieved at the change.
He opted, instead, to feel nothing; or at least appear to feel nothing.
He tossed his morning paper to the side, leaning slightly backwards in his office chair and placing his head in his hand.
His mother had called the night before, with nothing more for him than contempt and scathing words.
"A pity," she had sneered, "All that power and you couldn't even protect your brother. I suppose I should have known from the beginning that you couldn't manage a single thing I asked of you."
Mycroft was used to his mother's harsh words, he had grown up with nothing but contempt from her.
If he was being completely honest, the only real reason her words bothered him now, was because they rang with some semblance of truth.
Mycroft had been the key to Moriarty's plan all along.
He had given the man all that he needed to completely crush Sherlock Holmes.
Yes, Jim Moriarty killed Sherlock Holmes, but Mycroft had been the cause of Sherlock's death.
Mycroft Holmes let his eyes slide to the left where a small clock rested on the edge of his desk.
5:00 a.m.
He had an hour to pull himself together.
An hour to pretend that his brother's demise meant nothing.
An hour to get on with his life.
He would need a walk to clear his mind, he decided, though he did not particularly care for the exercise involved.
He was two blocks away from his flat before he realized he had forgotten his umbrella.
Mycroft Holmes never went anywhere without his umbrella.
He was just considering returning to his flat to retrieve it, when suddenly the rain stopped.
Mycroft looked up, his eyes no longer focused on his loafers, but instead focused on a hideously polka dotted umbrella.
He immediately attributed that audaciously bright THING with the fact that he was no longer getting wet.
He automatically considered stepping away from the shelter of such a hideous umbrella.
"Hey mister, you'll get sick if you stand in the rain."
Mycroft, stopped.
Had the girl deduced his train of thought?
His eyes fell on her, bright brown eyes flickered back.
Her dark hair was matted to her neck and face, no doubt a result of a young woman not following her own advice.
She wore a raincoat at least.
An atrociously bright one, though not as noticeable as her umbrella.
On her feet were a gaudy pair of black rubber boots.
She popped her gum at him, as if she was awaiting some sort of reaction.
American.
Mycroft deduced.
He took in the wrinkles in her t-shirt, and the fact that she was wearing a pair of sweat pants, the dark circles under her eyes, the overly cheery grin on her face, and the animal hairs on her pant leg.
Out for a walk in sleepwear.
Insomnia.
Cares little for appearances.
Enjoys painfully bright colors.
Possible result of terrible home life.
Currently lives alone.
Correction, lives with cat.
Most likely conclusion: Ran away from home.
The pedestrian light changed to green, and yet, neither person moved.
"Do you usually give advice to people, that you do not intend to follow yourself?"
The girl, at first, appeared startled.
A slow grin slid back across her face, "Do you usually go wandering around at five a.m. in the pouring rain without an umbrella?" she responded cheekily.
Mycroft found himself resisting the urge to smirk at her.
"Actually, I never go anywhere without my umbrella."
The urge died, giving way to his previous dark thoughts.
Though his expression had not changed on the outside, the girl seemed to pick up on a sudden change in his demeanor.
She bit her bottom lip nervously, and stared ahead at the now red pedestrian light.
"Funny, I always FORGET mine."