Mycroft, Mr. Bee´s protector
(Part 21 of Little Sherlock)
Mycroft Holmes enjoys one of the rare, quiet and very peaceful moments he has. He had chosen this life where his mind is working 24/7 for a reason. Like Sherlock he needs it, the work, different from his brother´s carrier choice but not any less necessary. With a glass of scotch in his hand, Mycroft relaxes into his chair. A successful day with one prevented war because of some minor misunderstanding between two countries that could at least pretend to like each other and a political scandal stopped before it could go to the press. Yes, very successful indeed.
Sherlock had been over a few minutes ago. His team of scientists were still working on a solution for his size problem. Mycroft adores his little brother, especially the innocent child like version, not that he would ever say it. But still a solution for this has to come up soon. On the table in front of him sits an old friend. Mr. Bee.
Mycroft had never thought that this little toy, a present given to him over thirty years ago would bring his brother still love and affection. It pains a bit that Sherlock had to give it away but arguments against this arrangement were ignored. Mr. Bee was safest at his place in a safe.
Remembering back to the first time this happened. It was a rainy day and Sherlock in his darker times, drugs, homelessness and more drugs. He was only sixteen, ran away from home with only a backpack but one night he stood in front of his door. Not too high, as Mycroft noticed. His brother looked ill but with a fire in his eyes as if he had found something.
Out of his backpack his little brother gave him Mr. Bee. The toy had seen better days and was wet from being carried around in the weather.
"Keep him safe." Sherlock turned around, not looking back as if he could change his mind. Mycroft had seen the tears. If he couldn't safe his brother he could at least keep his precious friend safe.
After drying the toy, he placed it in the safe where the top-secret documents were hidden. He would keep him safe.
Back to the presence; Mycroft empties his glass. Carefully he picks up the toy and like always he checks the sewing he did on the day Mr. Bee came into their life. He never had to correct them. In his bedroom Mycroft pushes a picture out of the way and opens the safe in the wall behind it. Inside is a little box with a small blanket, this is the place where this little bee would rest until his brother will need him again.
Sometimes Mycroft asks himself why he was still the bee's keeper, but this was Sherlock´s way to keep their bond. The safe was locked, Mycroft lies down and sleeps with the knowledge that the treasure was safe.