Summary
Sequel to "A Silent Reminder"
After dealing with Zach, Rose Spencer realises that she still owes Mycroft; both for the gift and the name calling.
A Silent Revenge
Laying on her bed, she let the music fill her room, and let her mind roam free. She thought back to her brother's words and felt the disappointment in them stab her painfully. She had always tried to make her family proud, in whatever she did, but it had never seemed enough to them.
Eventually she fell into an uneasy sleep, skipping dinner, and simply letting her mind rest.
When she woke up again, she had found that it was just gone seven in the morning, and she had a brilliant idea. Thank you brother, she thought mischievously.
She jumped up out of then bed and walked to the bathroom, plan forming as she showered. Getting out, she went to her room again, putting on her underwear and a dressing gown, mind on a cup of strong tea to start her day.
Having met neither of her flatmates - to her relief - she went back to her room, mug in hand, putting on the song that her brother had mentioned the day before, smirking at the thought. Looking through her clothes she found what she was looking for, though she did make a note to go shopping for some better clothes when she had the money for it.
She let her hair dry naturally, and picked up her phone as she took out her makeup bag. She sent a text to her target.
Good morning, Mr Holmes.
Setting down her phone again, she started to apply a fine line of black liquid eyeliner, and a clumpless layer of mascara on her lashes. As she picked up her dark purple-red lipstick, reading the label - claiming that the colour would last twenty four hours before it began to fade - her phone buzzed; she had a reply.
Good morning, my dear. And what can I do for you today? MH
Smirking she sent her planned reply, grinning from the music in the background.
Thought you would like a chat this morning, Mr Holmes.
Clicking send, she went back to her application of dark makeup. As she finished, she looked in the mirror, proud of her work; her features were dark, her flawless skin seeming paler against the black definition of her eyes, and the dark pronunciation of her lips. She ran a brush through her long brown hair - softer and fuller looking from the conditioner she had used - letting some of it fall into her face, and went to the bed, where she had laid out her clothes.
She put on the tightly fitted, black tank top on, pulling it down to show some chest, her usual pair of black jeans on her legs. Just as she reached for her new bandana, she heard her phone buzz again. Leaving her preparations for the minute, she went to see what he had to say.
Well, I am rather busy today, my dear.
Though I'm sure I can fit you in somewhere.
I'll let you know when a car is there for you. MH
She frowned slightly; she hadn't thought that he would be busy. It was a silly mistake on her part, but he had said he would send a car. She just hoped it would be soon. She quickly typed a reply and went back to her preparations.
Her hand went back to the bandana, and she folded it in half diagonally, making a triangle shape, then folded an inch of material over, making it not as long. She then wrapped it around her neck, hiding her bruised but healing neck, however not hiding the chest that she had on show.
She then went over to the box that she had reserved for just such occasions, though maybe not this one exactly. Opening the lid, she took out the pair of plain black, suede, five inch heels, slipping them onto her feet.
Crossing the room, she looked into the mirror again, proud that she could walk easily in her shoes - it hadn't been an easy three months learning, wearing nothing but narrow pointed heels, but she had done it. She smirked, the look complete.
Her plan was a simple one; a mind game.
She had found, not long after she found her passion in psychology, that she thoroughly enjoyed mind games with people; letting them think what she wanted them to, when she wanted them to. It was one of the things that gave her a bit of a reputation back in Newport for being a trouble maker, but she never got caught. She was that good at the game.
She knew that Sherlock and Mycroft were very alike, and today she was going to find out just how much. She remembered that Sherlock had been incredibly uncomfortable with human contact, and even more so going on a date with her- even if it was hypothetical.
Her phone buzzing brought her out of her musings; Mycroft had text her again.
A car out front for you, my dear. MH
Show time, she thought, grabbing her longer coat, heading out the door.
As she left her room, she saw John coming down the stairs to collect the mail. Looking up at him, she caught his wondering eyes, and repressed a smirk; he was a man after all, and this was as thought provoking as she had dressed in at least a year. She had a relatively large chest, and a small waist complete with wide hips, giving her a perfect hourglass figure; though she usually hid it behind baggy clothes.
He did have the decency to blush though when he caught her raised eyebrow. Coughing, he looked away from her amused, shining gaze. "Going somewhere nice?" He asked, trying to ignore his embarrassment at his unconsciously wondering eyes being caught.
She just chuckled at him, answering lightly. "Just going out for a spot of revenge, John."
He just stood there puzzled, wondering what she was up to, and why she was dressed in such a way, so early in the day. "Have fun?" He offered.
She just smirked and chuckled darkly. "Oh, I will." \with that she turned away from her confused flatmate and walked out the door with a new confidence, approaching the car that had been sent for her.
She had learnt that the man she was meeting could either be at a deserted building somewhere, or sat in the back of the car sent to get her; so she wasn't surprised to see him sat next to her in the spacious, sleek car.
"Hello, Mr Holmes." She said confidently, holding herself in a manner that was not her usual.
"Good morning, my dear. How are you?" He said politely, making a little small talk, once again taking her by surprise. Just can't help but do it, I suppose, she thought.
She gave him a smile, she answered, "I'm quite well, thank you. And yourself?"
She caught the flicker of surprise behind his guarded eyes, before their usual blankness came back. "I'm doing well, but I do believe you wanted to discuss something…" He replied, leaving the phrase open for her to continue.
"Yes, a few things in fact." She said looking him in the eye, not breaking contact.
"Do continue."
"Well, first, I'd like to say thank you for the little snippet of information about Zachary yesterday." She said, appearing light and grateful.
"You're welcome, my dear." Just as he finished speaking though, she spoke again, smile gone and voice like ice.
"But I would request that you stay away from my family."
"Ah." He said shortly.
"You understand, I'm sure," She explained, expression turning sweet but her eyes were still burning true; a chilling expression to most. "My brother may not care for me, and my family may not agree with who I am or what I've done, but I will protect them - with my life if need be." She had a cold fire burning in her eyes. It was one of the things that had bugged her to know end through the night; Mycroft had looked in on her family. One of the things that either made people like her - or be scared of her - was how loyal and protective she was of her closest family and friends.
But Mycroft had shown no outward sign of intimidation from her request and just replied, "The second thing?"
She ground her teeth slightly in annoyance, she shoulders pushing backwards and he head raising a little in defiance to his subtle disregard to her request to leave her family alone. She let it drop though, knowing he would do what he wanted. She would just have to carefully warn them to be aware of being tailed. Letting out a long breath through her nose, she moved on.
"Second, I would like to thank you." Keeping her shoulders pulled back, she lifted up a hand and ran the hem of the bandana through her middle finger and thumb, bringing attention both the coloured material and to the skin she had on show.
Usually, showing any amount of skin would embarrass her to no end, but she had gotten used to it, taking acting classes and having to perform on stage in front of large audiences, sometimes in costumes she wouldn't be caught wearing alone in a pitch dark room. But when she was on stage she felt like it wasn't her, just a character that she played; and it was that experience she called on in that moment; she was acting, being someone else. A more confident and more beautiful person than she really was, as she didn't believe she was anything to look at, she never had. But she could sure act like it.
"I wont ask how you knew, but I will say thank you for it. It's because of you that I accepted your brothers offer."
"Well, I'm glad I could help." He said with a smile, a touch of warmth in his empty eyes. It was an unusual expression; like a cold, empty room had just gotten a little less cold, but was still just as empty.
She felt the car pull up to a stop and saw the muscles in Mycroft's hand tense ever so slightly in reaction; he planned on opening his door then. She doubted that he would have the driver drop him off at where ever he was going, then have the driver take her home, so she concluded that she should get out of the car and he would as well. Throwing him a light smirk, she turned and got out of the car, recalling her plan, hoping it would work.
As she turned on the path outside 221B, she saw him get out of his side and walk around to meet her.
Holding out her hand as he approached she made sure to relax the muscles in her face, lips pulling up into the ghost of a smile, eye lids dropping ever so slightly. As he took her hand, she spoke.
"I hope we can one day speak with out the need for threatening each other in one form or another, Mr Holmes." She said in a low voice, a hint of forced sadness in her tone. As she spoke though, she let her thumb stroke his gloved hand ever so softly, noting with satisfaction when his grip on her hand became a little firmer, as had the look in his eyes; he was becoming a little defensive.
"And now where would the fun be in that, my dear." Phrased like a question, spoken like a statement, but his eyes were just as blank in their gaze as always. But he had done it again, and it was time for her final move.
Looking him right in the eye, she smirked and stepped a little closer to him, leaning in to whisper in his ear - in what she hoped was a seductive sort of voice, carefully laced with a threat - running a long fingernail across his palm firmly as she did so.
"I did ask you to refrain from calling me such names, Mycroft Holmes."
But as she went to lean away, satisfied in the way he had shown the unconscious actions of a man with his person space invaded, she got quite the surprise.
A gloved hand swiped up her arm, barely touching her, making its way to her throat, where it snaked its way to hold the side of her neck gently, fingers curling to put a little pressure on the relatively unharmed skin of the back of her neck with the gloved finger tips. The feeling had her breath catching in her throat before she could help it, heart beating a little stronger.
He held her for a second and she thought he taken in a short breath, but he spoke before she could process the thought.
"Don't play with fire, if you don't want to get burned, my dear." He countered in a low voice to match her own, the last two words punctuated not only by a stress in his tone but also an added pressure from his fingertips.
Another moment passed, and they leaned away from each other again, Rose seeing the mischief in his eyes, so much like his brothers. She just smirked, winking at him. He raised an eyebrow in return and she just chuckled.
"Until next time then, Mycroft." She said in a cheeky tone.
"Indeed, Miss Spencer." He smiled at her.
Turning back to her flat, she made sure she didn't look back at him, though caught his reflection in the gloss of the shiny black door; he was watching her, looking - dare she think it - rather smug.
As she closed the door to her room, she leant against it, letting out a long breath. Her plan had failed; rather epically in her opinion. But now they had a new game to play. She smirked.
Definitely not boring.