Her phone was ringing.
The background was that of a smiling Sherlock and Iris. She remembered the scene.
She had dragged him out of he flat to do window shopping with her. After all, she was an engaged woman. He had his arm around her waist and hey walked to all her favorite little shops. She even indulged in window looking at the big white dresses that some stores bragged. Of 'course Sherlock was having a field day by stating all the wedding facts that made her imaginings utterly ridiculous. But they were laughing and having fun when she took out her phone and flipped the camera to take a selfie. Sherlock was smiling over her shoulder in his candid way when she caught him unguarded. There was another in the gallery of her phone, where she was holding her ring hand up to the camera.
But now, it was just the lock screen on her phone. And the ring just a faint shimmer of her left hand.
She ignored her phone. She was at a very important meeting with the prime minister. And the Queen.
This wasn't uncommon. To most of the British government, she became the Mycroft who actually went out in public. You know, the best public image- a pretty one who can actually pretend to want to be there.
After the twenty minute meeting, Iris Athena Brook met her unmarked indistinguishable car outside the palace.
A girl sat in the seat across from her, silent on her smart phone as the car drove. As they arrived back at the Diogenes club, the two women got out of the car and Iris's phone vibrated with an addition to her daily schedule. Always moving.
She entered her office followed by her assistant but stopped short at the sight on her desk.
"Julie, wait outside the office please." The assistant turned on her heels after examining the room quickly, and then shut the door behind her.
Iris let out a sigh at the closed door. She walked around the desk to view the bouquet of flowers there.
It was glass vase with purple irises and red roses. Filled to the brim and Iris felt the smoothness of the petals in wonder before seeing the card. The smile on her face grew.
Of course it was a smile of curiosity as she read the card ...
Toujours votre valentine
It wasn't signed but the hand writing... Iris knew that handwriting.
She stared at it, sitting down in her chair almost cautiously. Her mind was unraveling as the possibilities opened. The card was in her back pocket before her phone began ringing.
"What?" She picked it up still shell shocked into staring at the flowers.
"You're late." Mycroft's chastising voice came over the line and she rolled her eyes, reluctantly getting up.
"I'll be there in a second." She hung up without hearing a reply.
It's a shame that he only became a true romantic in death, it would appear, Iris mused as she smelled the flowers one last time before going to her next appointment.