No One's POV
Mycroft Holmes didn't do sentiment or affection, particularly in the line of work he was in. After all, look where it had gotten him with Charles Magnussen.
It was not to say, however, he didn't have a heart, it was simply buried deep, deep beneath his Iceman persona and given only to a select few, a very select few. And, even with those it was given to, it was difficult for him to show them he cared, so he covered it up, beneath his intense need to control, to protect, or to insulate, in the case of his parents and Eurus.
Eurus was a secret that he hoped to take to his grave, it wasn't that he didn't love his parents, it was because he loved them that he protected them from the truth, the truth of what Eurus had become; he protected his brother from the harsh truth of his past, and from their murderous and psychotic younger sister who was beyond saving.
All this to say, however, didn't do a lot of good when confronted with one, Special Agent Danielle Anderson.
Mycroft wasn't blind to beauty, he could appreciate a woman's form like one appreciates art, but for the most part he wasn't interested. He was a Royal Gramma fish, bright and florescent, in a sea of plain, utterly boring, goldfish. People, not just women, were stupid, and could not match his intellect; he could not put up with pointless and innate nattering and chatter.
Yet, here he was, frantically attempting to try on different suits all the while convincing himself that it didn't matter what he wore nor that he was doing it to impress Special Agent Danielle Anderson.
"Athena, what do you think of this one?" Mycroft asks.
"I think, sir… The same thing as I thought about the last one. Also, that you will be late if you do not hurry." Athena tells her boss, attempting to not be at least slightly amused by the situation; she never thought she'd see the day that Mycroft Holmes, the British Government for all intentions, would be captivated by a woman, let alone trying so hard to impress her.
"I know what you're thinking, Athena. I am not amused." Mycroft gives his P.A a blasé look.
"Of course, sir." Athena offers.
If Athena wasn't the most competent and trusted assistant he had he'd promptly fire her; this was beyond humiliating to have someone else witness his downfall.
"I'd go with that one, sir." Athena finally advises; frankly she wanted this painful process, which had been going on for over an hour, to be over, for everyone's sake, including the tailor, but also, her boss did look better in the one she had advised.
"Very well… I suppose this shall do." Mycroft sniffs.
"Very good, sir. Shall we get going? You wanted to stop by your brother's before the conference." Athena reminds.
The familiar step of his brother's dress shoes and his umbrella walked up the stairs of 221B, creaking louder on the third step from the top before entering the premise, the lighter footsteps of his loyal PA right behind him.
"Hello, brother mine." Mycroft greets his brother.
"What do you want, Mycroft?" Sherlock gripes back.
"I have a case for you that I need your aid on." Mycroft tells his brother promptly, never one to make much small talk as he evaluates his brother sitting in his usual chair, looking rather mopey after the events of Charles Magnussen and nearly being shipped off to Eastern Europe; he had killed Charles Magnussen in cold blood, for in what Mycroft considered, a rather undeserving woman, an assassin who had tried to kill him all to secure her own place at John Watson's side, but that was not Mycroft's place to say and he held his tongue and his opinion for once as he knew it was not wanted nor needed.
"Fine." Sherlock scoffs once, but does not protest any further as he turns to his older brother. "What is it?"
"Yes- thank you, Athena." Mycroft turns to Athena, muttering quietly. "I will be right there. Just order the gift, please. We will pick it up on our way there." Mycroft nods.
A new suit, also a new haircut. Mycroft wants to impress someone. But who? Heading to a meeting perhaps? With the PM? A Parliament member? Mycroft is picking up a gift… A foreign delegate, then. After all, why would the PM or a Parliament member need a gift?
Sherlock is left with more questions than answers as he gazes at his brother and deduces him.
"It should be relatively simple… For you. I simply don't have the time or resources right now." Mycroft offers the file, turning back to his brother. "MI6 is busy. And my other assistants are otherwise incompetent."
"A pity case then?"
"I'm not in the business of such sentiment, brother. The case need to be solved." Mycroft answers. "You have a week. Do let me know what you get. I've got an MI6 training to oversee." Mycroft's steps recede from 221B, finally disappearing out the front door, and the faint sound of a car door shutting is heard.
"Was that your brother, dear?" Mrs. Hudson asks, poking her head in. "I could have made some tea and biscuits… But just this once. I'm not your maid."
"You just missed him, I'm afraid." Sherlock answers. "I'm off, Mrs. Hudson… I've got a case!"
"Excuse me, I'm looking for DI Lestrade." Danielle asks, walking into the bullpen of her best friend's office.
"DI Lestrade? Who's asking?"
"I'm an old friend. I just came into town. As you can see." Danielle answers the curly haired brunette and gestures to the duffle bag on her shoulder.
"His office is right over there. But he's busy." The woman answers.
"That's fine. He won't mind. I promise." Danielle tells the woman, a Detective Sergeant from her uniform and badge, Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan, then, Danielle surmises in her mind.
"Greg!" Danielle bursts into her best friend's office with a jubilant cry and bounce to her step.
"Dani!" Greg jumps rather abruptly, nearly dumping his mug of coffee. "What are you doing here?"
"Racking up my frequent flier miles. Can't I see my best friend?" Danielle asks innocently.
"Yes… But you didn't even tell me! My flat is a mess!" Greg waves his hands as if he needed to start making arrangements immediately and return home to clean; he had finally split from his wife and now had a small flat to himself.
"I don't care. Seriously, I don't." Danielle waves off.
"Did you come straight from the airport? Why didn't you call me!?" Greg demands, now noticing her bag.
"Didn't want to bother you. Besides, I know where you work. You're so predictable, Greg." Danielle shrugs.
"I wouldn't have cared. You're my best friend, Dani." Greg is grumpy now, giving his best friend a look.
"The case, Detective Inspector." Sherlock interrupts, a bit perturbed at being interrupted in his meeting with Lestrade.
"Oh, sorry. One of your colleges said you were busy… I think it was Donovan. She didn't say, but I assumed… From what you've told me." Danielle apologies, giving Greg a smirk that hides a glimmer of something else; she was good at deducting things, she hadn't become an Army Ranger nor a Special Agent for her looks after all.
"No, you're fine. Sherlock's being rude." Greg glares at the Consulting Detective.
"Really. I can leave. Actually, I'm here for a work thing. Top secret MI6 stuff." Danielle winks at Greg and holds out a pinkie in a childhood action her and Greg both shared with one another since they were elementary kids both running around in the backyard promising to marry one another.
Attending MI6 training. Trainings for MI6 teams are held at random frequencies due to security risks and are held at MI6 Black Sites. There are only twelve MI6 Black Sites in England. Two within an hour's distance of central London. Mycroft was headed to a MI6 Black Site this morning. As I thought earlier, by the state of both his new suit and hair cut he wanted to impress someone, but not the PM or a Parliament member or he would have worn his normal attire. Not a boss, because Mycroft was the boss. It is likely that he could be at the same Black Site. Possible conclusion: Mycroft wanted to impress her.
Sherlock's thoughts all but screeched to a halt at that realization.
"MI6 training?" Sherlock interrupts again, snapping back into the present moment.
"Yes, how did you-"
"Do you know Mycroft?"
"Yes. He's often- how do you?" Danielle questions in half sentences, having dismissed the two other people in the room earlier when she came in during her efforts to greet her best friend.
"Dani, this is Sherlock Holmes." Greg steps in before Sherlock can intrude again.
"Ah. The younger brother. Mycroft has mentioned you before." Danielle nods in understanding, her slightly suspicious demeanor instantly relaxing. "Yes, I do know Mycroft."
"Sherlock, John. This is Danielle Anderson. My childhood best friend. She's a Special Agent for the FBI, Joint Counter Terrorism and HRT. Former Lieutenant Colonel for the 75th Army Rangers." Greg introduces. "Quantico has her training agents, but occasionally she'll speak and train others… Like now." Greg was obviously quite proud of his best friend going from the look in his eyes and slight puff in his chest.
"It's really not that big of a deal, Greg."
"It is." Greg insists, looking at Danielle with pride. "You practically wrote the book at Quantico."
"Some. I helped write some…" Danielle corrects with a laugh. "It was already written long before I got to Quantico."
"Lieutenant Colonel." John immediately snaps into a salute. "Captain John Watson, ma'am."
"Nice to meet you, Captain." Danielle salutes back. "What company did you serve with?"
"Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, ma'am. I was a medic."
"Oh, boy… This was a mistake introducing you two… I can see it already." Greg mutters.
"Oh, shut up, Greg." Danielle laughs. "I really do have to go, however. I just wanted to stop by and say hi. Drop my stuff off with you."
"Yeah, of course! Sure!" Greg offers enthusiastically, pulling his best friend in a hug. "Can I take you over?"
"It's a MI6 Black Site, Greg. Thanks for the offer, but you don't have clearance… You're not special enough." Danielle teases, poking her best friend in the side.
"Rude." Greg grumbles. "And after I let you leave your stuff with me."
"I'm meeting with my team at the hotel and we have a car sent for us." Danielle tells Greg. "You don't have to worry. I'll see you later. Love you." She kisses Greg on the cheek. "It was nice meeting you both. Bye!" Danielle strolls out of the office.
"How do you know Danielle?" John is already quizzing Greg as soon as Danielle is out of ear shot.
"She's awesome isn't she?" Greg puffs up. "She's a childhood friend. I've known her all my life. Her family was based in England for a few years. Her mom was… Is friends with my mother. We ended playing together." Greg explains.
Sherlock's mind was still slightly stuck on the fact that his brother may or may not be attempting to impress a woman… More facts must be taken into consideration and gathered in order to draw a sound conclusion… Mycroft didn't do sentiment after all…
"Sherlock? Sherlock? You okay there, mate?" Greg asks, looking at Sherlock with a little concern.
"Sherlock?" John asks.
"Yes… Detective Inspector. Just- just contemplating." Sherlock answers.
"Care to share with the class? Is it about the case?" Greg asks.
"About Danielle and Mycroft." Sherlock answers point blank.
"Ah. Well, you didn't think you were the only one with a soldier, did you?" Greg smirks.