Woo! Less than a year and already a new chapter! I decided to include a snidbit of the backstory that currently only exists in my head, though I have hinted at it throughout the story. In this little snidbit (I like that word (is it a word?)) Ainsley is about seven, Sherlock 12-ish and Mycroft late teens. I imagine little Sherlock to be an absolute shit, so I hope you enjoy it.
She had never really fit in with her family. Which was not to say she was any less talented than her brothers, she just used her gifts… differently. While her brothers always were competing to see who could figure the most out about a given object or person (they called it deductions, she called it boring), she was more focused on using it to her advantage. People could never say no to her if she played them just right. She knew that, unlike her brothers seemed to think, logic didn't work with everyone. However, a smile here, a tear there and they were putty in her hands. She couldn't remember the last time someone had said no to her, even her brothers weren't totally resistant to her ploys, but there were only so many things she needed from them, from all the simple people she was surrounded with. She wanted to be able to branch out, find new challenges new things she could get her hands on. Here she was limited, out there there were no limits. The only thing truly keeping her from leaving were her brothers, after all they were practically bloodhounds. Were she to leave, they would undoubtedly just drag her back. Them and their morals. So instead she had to plan, outsmart her older brothers and escape from right under their noses. They were like the dragons in those fairytales her mother used to read to her when she was very young, guarding the princess in her tower. Only she wasn't going to wait around for some boring Prince Charming to come and rescue her, not when she was perfectly capable herself. She knew her brothers thought she was simple like their parents, but they were wrong. Them underestimating her was a huge part of their plan. She opened the door slowly, walking into the library. She saw her brothers where they always were, curled up in the armchairs by the fireplace turning simple board games into intense games of strategy. She walked up to them, tugging on Mycroft's sleeve.
"What is it Ainsley?" He asked barely sparing her a glance as he moved his piece along the board.
"Can you read me a story?" She asked in her sweetest voice.
"You know how to read." Sherlock stated simply, pulling another card from the deck.
"But it's more fun when he does it," Ainsley whined "He's a better reader." a teensy bit of flattery and a whole lot of pathetic, often the best combination when it came to her eldest brother.
"In a moment." Mycroft conceded, were it anyone else it might have been a dismissal, but from her brother it was practically a proclamation of love. Sherlock rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed she would be stealing him away again. Though he didn't care to admit it, Sherlock looked up to his brother and wanted to learn from him. Ainsley didn't know who he was trying to hide it from, if she knew, Mycroft definitely knew. She squealed in excitement, giving her brother a peck on the cheek and going to find a suitable book. Walking around the large room she passed by the small shelf of children's books she had outgrown years ago and found a large volume, almost too large for her to carry, all but dragging it back to her brother. They were almost done with their game, Mycroft clearly about to win. Sure enough on his next move Mycroft won, much to Sherlock's chagrin. To most people Candyland was simple fun, but with these two it was practically war.
"I got a book big brother." Ainsley said, dragging the large volume to where Mycroft was sitting. "Sherlock are you gonna stay and listen too?" Ainsley asked innocently already knowing his answer.
"No," He scoffed. "Only babies need someone to read to them." he finished as he stormed out of the room. Mycroft chuckled a bit at his brother's antics, then looked down at the book in his lap.
"This one again?" He said calmly, barely concealing the disdain on his face. He opened the book nonetheless.
She was snapped out of her revery by the sound of the front door opening. About time, she thought to herself she had been waiting for at least an hour and she was not a patient girl. She listened to the footsteps ascending the stairs and realized it was not her brother coming home, but rather his pet. A smile spread across her face. She was certain Sherlock wouldn't have mentioned her, which meant she could have a bit of fun before her brother got back home.
I was originally going to include her 'fun' in this chapter, but I do love the suspense. See you in a few days ;)
