A/N: I love Mycroft. And I like to imagine him and his unique brand of romance and relationships. :)
Farewells
"I know you're there," he said, loosening his tie with a tired exhale. It was the end of a long day, and Mycroft was undeniably tired. He was an ice man, but he was human nonetheless. The recent trade agreements were giving him some grief, but for now, sleep beckoned.
There was no response to his statement. The room was still dark. So he turned on the small lamp by his mini-bar and was pleased to see the decanter was more than half full. He reached for a glass and poured himself a small whisky.
Sinking into an armchair, Mycroft took a careful sip and began to file. He replayed the day's events in his head, categorising them, strategising next moves and deleting any unnecessary information. There was a small frown that appeared as he recounted the last meeting he had. All the complications of the trade negotiations plagued him again. People were far too obsessed with money, he thought to himself.
Suddenly, he felt cool fingers pressed against his temples, applying the gentlest pressure. Mycroft smiled, as though expecting it.
"Your case has finished. Why are you still here?" he asked, inhaling deeply as the coolness of her skin brought delightful relief.
"Because you always let me leave without saying goodbye," she answered, moving her hands down to undo his tie. "Besides, who's going to help you with this migraine of yours?"
"I have my whisky," he said, smirking.
"No amount of whisky has helped. You and I both know that," she said, now moving to gently rub his shoulders.
A comfortable silence surrounded them as she worked to remove the knots in his tense shoulders. Occasionally, her fingers would creep back up his temples, working on the pressure points. She could sense the relaxation in his breathing and the way he no longer gripped the whisky glass so tightly.
"Aren't you glad I came to say goodbye?" she asked, smirking to herself.
"Well, that depends if you're really here to say goodbye," he answered, sensing the smile on her face.
There was a soft laugh that escaped her as she removed her hands and moved to turn the rest of the lights on. His spacious room lit up beautifully and Mycroft could finally rest his eyes on her.
"So, is this goodbye?" she asked, wrapping her silk kimono around her as she crossed her arms. There was a knowing smirk on her lips as she studied the most powerful man in England, sitting in his armchair. He returned her smirk and rose to his feet, carefully setting the glass down.
"This is against my better judgement…" Mycroft began, turning to face her, "But no, this isn't."
END