Mycroft Holmes, the Secret Cowardice
Here comes Mycroft Holmes! Here comes Mycroft Holmes! Right down Baker Street! He and Anthea are riding in a black car right down the street. Blackberries are ringing, siblings arguing. All is tense and awkward. Grab your blogger and say your prayers, 'cause Mycroft comes tonight.
Brandi stared at Mycroft in shock. Okay, so she hadn't exactly counted on him being here tonight. In fact, she was just hoping to avoid him until the train ride on Sunday. But of course she could never get that lucky. Now Brandi was stuck having to decide what to say to the man she almost had sex with on Monday night.
She gulped and held her hands behind her back and rocked back and forth on her heels. "Um...hi Mycroft," she squeaked nervously. "H-How are you tonight?"
Mycroft gave Brandi what must have been Mycroft equivalent of a forced pleasant smile. It was honestly the most fake thing Brandi had ever seen in her entire life. Like when your friend rattles on about how perfect their boyfriend or girlfriend is, and really don't care, but you smile anyway.
"I'm quite well," Mycroft replied. "How are you tonight, Brandi?"
Brandi paused for a moment. How was she tonight? Terrified? A nervous wreck? Those were all understatements. What was she meant to say to him now? Brandi looked and Mycroft knowingly. She sighed and said as strongly as she could, "We need to talk."
Mycroft nodded, dropping the fake smile. "Yes I believe we do," he agreed.
Brandi stepped out of the way, holding the door open for Mycroft to step inside. "We can talk in 221B," she told Mycroft. "No one will bother us up there for a while. Need to be quick though, they'll start to worry after a bit."
She lead the way into 221B and soon Brandi and Mycroft were standing across the room from one another, watching each other awkwardly. Funny, Mycroft looked as nervous as Brandi did. That was certainly a new one. The politician was usually so collected and always knew what to say. But it seems for once that he was completely speechless. Brandi couldn't figure out if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Mycroft cleared his throat and Brandi snapped out of her thoughts. "You look lovely, Brandi," he complemented.
Brandi gave him a loathing look. If he was just going to avoid the conversation he shouldn't have come upstairs. But to try complements as a way to butter her up was just low, even for him. Brandi had been a mess since that kiss, and he was going to act as if it had never happened. Sometimes Mycroft was just the most infuriating person on the face on planet Earth.
"Do you know what the events of Monday have done to me, Mycroft?" Brandi hissed.
Mycroft looked taken back and gulped. "I-It was technically Tuesday," he responded.
Brandi gathered that she probably looked like she could burst into flames at any given moment. Mycroft looked as if Satan had just popped out of the ground in a wedding dress singing 'Just Dance' by Lady Gaga. For him to try to avoid a conversation that needed to happen so much made Brandi want to spit on Mycroft's 'Barney's New York' leather oxfords.
"Mycroft I don't care if it was the day the bloody apocalypse started, you still owe me an explanation," Brandi snapped.
Mycroft gripped him umbrella, that stupid umbrella, until his knuckles turned white. "I apologize," he said softly, "my actions were less than honorable and it will never happen again."
Brandi shook her head. "No, I didn't ask for an apology," she said. "I don't deserve an apology because I was kissing back. Nothing was forced. I just want to know why you kissed me. I know why I kissed you. It was because I was stressed, tired, angry and when you leaned in my brain just said, 'What the hell! Kiss him!' So why would you kiss me? What did you have to gain from kissing me?"
Mycroft looked at the floor sheepishly. His hand adjusting for the weight of the bag of gifts he was holding. "It was more or less an experiment," he said just loud enough that Brandi could hear him.
Brandi felt her breath hitch and looked at Mycroft with hurt in her eyes. So she was just a tool for experimentation now? What did that even mean? Apparently Brandi was just a flipping guinea pig.
She felt tears well in her eyes and she asked, "And what did you find?" her voice cracking half way through.
"Nothing," Mycroft answered.
Brandi looked at him with confusion. "What do you mean? It didn't mean anything to you?"
"Did it mean anything to you?"
Brandi knit her brow. "You answer me first."
"No you."
Oh this was complete and total bull crap. Was he serious going to play this game with her? Only flipping six year old and immature adults did stupid stuff like this. And Brandi asked first, so obviously Mycroft had to answer first. That's just how life worked.
But no, this was Mycroft Holmes. Normal people ways didn't work with him. Not ever. So Brandi was just going to have to come up with an abnormal way to get an answer.
"Pull out your phone," she ordered Mycroft.
Puzzlement spread across his face. "Why?" he asked.
"We are going to text our answers to each other at the same time, then no one gets screwed." Mycroft nodded, set down the bag, and pulled out his phone. Brandi picked up her phone, that she had left in the flat yesterday, off the couch. "Ready?" she asked Mycroft, who nodded. "Go."
It meant nothing to me. Brandi looked back up and Mycroft nodded. They both hit sent, but only Mycroft's phone ding.
Brandi looked at Mycroft in disgust. "You bloody coward."