Chapter 2
Mycroft Holmes was a creature of habit. He stuck with the same routine for most of his adult life. Every week day morning he would rise at 5 am for his workout. Even if he no longer did leg work he still kept up his health and strength. He would then be showered, dressed and out the door at 6:45. Like clockwork he would enter his office by 7:15. This morning was no exception. Generally he would be the first in the office and Anthea would follow at 8 am. So it was a shock when he entered his outer office to discover one Miss Williamson sitting at Anthea's desk typing away. She had long brown hair that was swept up in a classic chignon and she wore a black blazer with a white button up shirt. She stopped typing, glanced up and gave a broad smile. It was then he saw the scars down the left side of her neck that disappeared into her shirt. Standing up she came around the desk and held out her hand.
"Mr. Holmes, I'm Elizabeth Williamson." She said with a slight American accent.
He looked into a pair of eyes almost as blue as his and then glanced down at her hand and took it. "Hello Miss Williamson. Thank you for being so early. Please allow me to hang my coat up and find some coffee. After I settle in I will bring you up to speed." He said as he moved towards his door.
"I've taken the liberty of making a fresh pot of coffee and you will find it in your office. I also laid out some scones just in case you are hungry. You will also find your printed itinerary for the day. Please let me know if any changes need to be made and I will get right on it."
His hand was on the door and he stopped. Turning he gave her a slight nod and proceeded through the door. Oh, she will do just fine he thought to himself.
At exactly 7:45 he buzzed her to come in. She quickly and quietly made her way to stand in front of his desk.
"Please take a seat Miss Williamson," he motioned for her to sit.
"I must say I'm very impressed with your work here at the agency. You came highly recommended by Anthea and your record is, well it's extraordinary."
"Thank you Mr. Holmes." She said as she took a seat across the desk from him.
"You will find that I work long hours and I may call upon you after hours. I ask that you do as I request quickly and without question. I have no doubt of your discretion due to your history with the agency. Do you have any questions for me?" He sat back in his chair and twirled his pen around in his fingers.
"Yes, do I have approval to use deadly force if your brother tries to storm your office door? Anthea has warned me about him." She asked with a dead serious look on her face. He raised an eyebrow and this pen came to an abrupt halt in his fingers. He eyed her for a moment and then cleared his throat.
"After all I am one of the rare office agents that are allowed to carry a firearm." She said slightly smiling at this point.
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that Miss Williamson. You do your best to deflect him without lethal force and I will deal with the aftermath."
She gave a sly smile, stood and nodded her head in acknowledgement. She left and as she was closing his door her smile broadened when she heard him give an almost faint chuckle.
Several months went by and Mycroft and Elizabeth settled into an efficient routine. She always tried to stay a step ahead of him, but somehow she always seemed to be one step behind his brilliant mind. People had warned her not to take the assignment, that Mycroft Holmes was more than he seemed. Many told her he was ruthless, dangerous and made of pure ice. After three months with him she saw a different side of him than most people. She saw the long hours he worked for Queen of country. More than once she had seen the stress in his eyes as he dealt with an international incident that required tact and political maneuvering. She would see the exhaustion in his face and that brilliant mind working behind his lovely blue eyes. But then it would disappear behind his mask of indifference when he would catch her looking at him. She could see the good man in Mycroft Holmes, even if he couldn't see it himself.
It was five months into her time with him that her first encounter with Sherlock happened. Needless to say it was an encounter Sherlock would not soon forget. Mycroft was on the phone with the Hong Kong PM when he heard very loud noises coming from outside his door. He made his apologies to the PM, hung up the phone and quickly made his way to his door flinging it open.
There, face down on the floor was his brother. Miss Williamson had his right arm twisted behind his back, one knee on his neck and the other on his middle back successfully pinning his arm down. Sherlock worked his eyes upwards and observed his brother.
"Well don't just stand there get this crazy woman off me!" He mumbled against the cold, hard surface of the office floor.
Mycroft had to school his expression for he almost let a smile cross his lips. He cleared his throat and spoke.
"Miss Williamson thank you for being so efficient. You may release my brother." He watched as she hesitated and then released her hold. She stood and straightened her suit coat and walked back to her desk. Sherlock got to his feet.
"Mycroft, what the hell is going on? She attacked me!" He turned and pointed straight at Elizabeth.
"With all due respect Mr. Holmes, I did warn you not to approach his door. The next time I suggest you heed my warning!" She said coming to a stop behind her desk and folding her arms in front of her.
"Mycroft since when do you employee lunatics!" He said brushing himself off and running his fingers through his hair.
"Miss Williamson, my brother Sherlock. Sherlock, my temporary PA Miss Williamson."
"Yes, we've met!" Sherlock barked as he gave her a deadly look. Elizabeth let a smirk come across her face and just for the hell of it she winked at Sherlock. Sherlock's eyes grew wide at the audacity of this woman.
"Oh, I would know the younger Holmes brother anywhere. I've been warned about you."
"No doubt my brother here gave you the run down on all my negative qualities." Sherlock snapped back at her.
"No, your brother hasn't breathed a word to me about you. Oh, well that's not necessarily true. When I asked if I could use lethal force on you he declined.
"Thanks!" Sherlock growled as he turned towards Mycroft with a look of pure disgust.
"Mr. Holmes I have to run to the PM's office to pick up the material we discussed earlier today. Will there be anything else for now?" She asked Mycroft as she stood from her desk.
"No Miss Williamson, I will struggle along without you for a while." She nodded and both men watched as she opened her top desk drawer, withdrew her fire arm and placed it in the side holster under her suit jacket. She picked up her bag and overcoat and left.
"Since when do office agents arm themselves?" Sherlock asked making his way to the couch in Mycroft's office.
"She is a rare exception. Believe me when I say she had earned the right to carry it anywhere. Sherlock, the next time you want to speak with me I suggest you call ahead. I may be very tempted to allow Miss Williamson to use lethal force the next time to stop you." Mycroft sat down in his chair.
"Oh, very funny Mycroft, since when do you have a sense of humor?" He said plopping down on the sofa.
"So, what would a PA be doing with a fire arm? Hmm, she must have made some major enemies if she is permitted to carry it in this building outside of being on a security team. And then there is the scar on the left side of her throat. Also her left hand has burn scars on it. How long has she been with the agency?" He asked as he steepled his fingers under his chin and closed his eyes.
"She came to us seven years ago as a field agent." Mycroft replied.
"Hmm, so how does one go from being a field agent to a PA.? Generally it would be they were demoted from the field, but since she carries the firearm it can only mean she did something very daring and as a result she is still at risk. How long ago did the change to take place from field op to office op?"
"Three years ago." Mycroft replied waiting for the tumblers to fall into place in Sherlock's mind. He smiled as Sherlock's eyes flew open.
"The PM terrorist attack. So she was one of the trinity? She was one of the three." Sherlock said turning his head to look at his brother.
"No, she was the one of the three." Mycroft replied leaning forward and picking up his pen. Sherlock was very hard to impress, but at this very moment in time he was impressed with one Elizabeth Williamson.
"Sherlock, I'm very busy. What do you want?"
"Well, I have come to tell you about an update. I have decided to ask Molly Hooper to the Queen's ball next month."
Mycroft stopped writing and sat back in his chair. "Well, it only took you 7 years to ask her out! Congratulations Sherlock, now leave."
"What? No, not like that. It's for a case. Come to think of it maybe I should ask your PA. She has proven she knows how to work under pressure." He said glancing back towards the office door.
"Sherlock, you will kindly leave my PA alone. She has been through enough in one lifetime without having to suffer through a night with you."
"How about you Mycroft, I assume you are required to be there? Haven't you found yourself a goldfish yet? Come on there must be some socialite willing to overlook your weight and ice man status!" Sherlock stretched his legs out further on the couch.
"Sherlock, do shut up and leave! I have no intention of taking anyone to the Queen's ball. Now if you will excuse me I have to finish some notes for a meeting I have within the hour. Do see yourself out and do not touch my files again!" Mycroft began writing again intent on ignoring Sherlock from here on out.
"Why don't you ask Miss Williamson, I'm sure it would make for a most interesting evening?" Sherlock rose from the couch and proceeded to the door.
"With your brains and her fearlessness you would make a most interesting but dangerous couple. Think about it Big Bro! Laters!"
As the door closed behind Sherlock Mycroft took a deep breath, tossed his pen on the desk and sat back in his chair. He had to admit, he had noticed Elizabeth on more than one occasion. When she was concentrating at her desk she would sometimes bite her lower lip and Mycroft had been alarmed at one point when he found himself wondering how she would taste if it was him biting that bottom lip. He had been completely appalled at himself for thinking base thoughts.
Then there was the time that she had worn her hair down for the first time. It hung in long brown curls. It had not affected him until she had leaned down over his shoulder to point out something on his computer screen and it fell across his arm. She had apologized and assured him she would pull it back for the remainder of her term. He barely heard her words; he was too busy wondering what it would feel like to run his fingers through it.
He had gone home that night completely disgusted with himself. He sat in his study sipping a scotch and soda and thought about why these thoughts had cropped up all of the sudden. He was a man and he was certainly human. He had noticed women before. He had his shares of affairs, but never with someone so closely associated with his work and life. He had purposely bedded women who he knew would never go beyond the night of sex ahead of them. So why was he now imaging kissing Elizabeth Williamson. She had even spilled over into his dreams. He would dream of her beneath him as he drove her to orgasm. He would dream of her in his arms afterwards and feeling content. Mycroft shook his head. He was 45 bloody years old and he needed to purge these thoughts and dreams.
He needed to regain his composure and focus on his work. Yet there were a hand full of times he would wonder what he had missed out in life. No! I'm not lonely! He would tell himself over and over. But sitting here in this large, very empty house he dared himself to admit the truth. He, Mycroft Holmes knew he had missed out on this part of his life and that this was never to be in his life. He would make himself stay content with the life he had. He needed no one especially the pretty set of blue eyes that he would look into everyday at the office.