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Sorry this is late my lovely readers, I had one of those weekends where my focus was shot to smithereens, had a cold which made it worse, and when I felt better I had to do some work so I did not get this chapter done until Tuesday morning, however I have the next one ready so it will be posted on Monday like it is supposed to be.
Mycroft's POV
Just before the meeting event was about to begin, he changes from the bespoke suit into something a bit less formal. After all, fitting in is the point so he my catch his prey.
When he steps out of his private room, his assistant takes a look at him, chuckling and sighing, "Sir, it doesn't matter if you are in a bespoke suit or not, you still look extremely formal because of the way you carry yourself." She cocks her head to the side, eyeing him critically, "You need to relax your shoulders a bit more."
"Getting into character is not a problem Ali," he responds as he walks towards her and the door.
"Sir," is all his PA says in response, her one the disbelieving flat one she occasionally uses to make a point. As she opens the door to his office, she comments, "Your car is waiting sir."
He nods, continuing out the door and to the waiting vehicle with his assistant just a few steps behind, typing away on her phone.
Upon getting to the car, he asks Frank, his long time driver, "Do you think I am too formal for causal?"
He is curious to see what the older man will say.
Look at him for a moment, his driver studies him for a moment before answering quietly, "Well sir, I think you only relax by yourself and you are rarely by yourself to do so."
"Hmmmm," he hums in response.
Sliding into the car, the ride to the club is quiet, and he considers his assistance and drivers words. When they get to the club, his driver slides out of the vehicle in order to open his door for him and hold it while he gets out.
"I will be waiting over there for you to summon me, sir," the older man tells him, motioning to a parking space off to the side of the building.
"Fine," he replies with a nod before heading towards the building.
A slender but muscular door man opens the door for him, and the young woman from his previous visit greets him upon his entry to the foyer.
"Good evening sir, drinks are currently being served while the chef puts the finishing touches on dinner," she tells him, "Putnam will show you to the dining hall."
A dark-haired twink slips out of line up uniformly dressed young men with a warm smile, "This way."
Following the young man through the building, as they walk, the younger man points out where the restrooms, private sitting room, and solarium are at. Upon getting to the dining room, he comments, "Each table has four potential companions and spots for four patrons. If you find one you would like to speak with a bit more, there are private tables on the other side of the room. Through the far side door is a ballroom if you desire to dance, and you are welcome to take any of the companions to one of the private sitting rooms for conversation if you do not wish to have the conversation in the dining hall or ballroom. Have a pleasant evening sir."
He nods at the young man as he withdraws, leaving him at the door.
Glancing about, he does not spot any of the people he suspects, but the night is still young. He is ninety-three percent certain that the target will be here tonight and he can call a team in to take the traitor to lock up in order to be dealt with.
As he scans the room, he notices that most of the companions are young, late teens to mid twenties. Most are in uni, have just recently graduated from uni or are taking their advance classes in their chosen field. There seems to be an equal amount of males and females, though there is little in the way of mixing between the two except for a small group down the middle. He selects a table with four mostly quiet companions and a patron who is chatting up two of them equally. Both of the companions who are not being flirted with turn their attention to him. For a few minutes he plays the small talk game but finds both exceedingly dull.
His eyes are still sweeping the room when he spots a relatively short and compact man sitting at one of the private tables by himself. According to posture and hair cut he used to be military, the way his eyes focus in on people scanning them, he knows that the man was in some position of command and a used to be listened to. Of all the people here, he seems to be the one who desires to be here the least but is masking it whenever a prospective patron sits at the table with him.
"Can I get sir a drink?" a waitress in a flirty green dress inquires.
He names of a type of whiskey he favors, adding that he is moving tables and motioning to the one with the soldier.
"Of course sir," the waitress responds with a smile.
Politely bidding the two companions at the table good evening, he heads over to the soldier.
"Mind if I join you?" he asks the younger man.
Studying him for a moment and smiling up at him, the soldier motions to the other seat as he answers, "You're welcome to."
He settles into the chair, glancing over the soldier and realizing he is also a doctor. Now that is interesting.
"May I ask how long you have been a companion?" he inquires after a few minutes of easy quiet companionship and the waitress has brought him his drink.
Slate blue eyes flicker over him for a moment before the soldier answers, "This is my first event."
"Interesting, it is mine as well," he comments before offering a hand, "Mycroft Holmes."
A small smile twitches on the soldier's lips as he accepts his hand, the younger man replies, "John Watson."
"May I inquire why a person with your skill set would be here?" he asks queries before his eyes search the room again.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees John flinch and tense up for a moment before he answers quietly, "I have PTSD."
He nods, glancing over the soldier and quickly deciding that it is not so much that he has PTSD that is the problem but that he needs the adrenaline rush danger gives him.
"Would you care to have lunch next week to discuss a prospective job offer?" he inquires suddenly, surprising himself. He had not planned on actually hire one of the companions that the club offers, but this young man appeals to him. He is physically pleasing with his sandy, short cropped blonde hair, intelligent slate blue eyes, and solid build. The fact he is both a doctor and a soldier is a very interesting. He is very curious what drove the younger man to this sort of job idea.
This seems to startle the soldier who gives him a curious look before nodding once, "That would be acceptable."
Just as he is about to list several options for John to choose from, he spots his target and his attention quickly shifts focus. The soldier seems to notice this change in focus and follows his eyes.
Of all the people he had suspected that particular agent was towards the bottom of the list.
Slipping his phone from his pocket, he sends a quick message to the team to capture him.
"You know him, and not in a good way," the soldier remarks quietly, "Your eyes got rather cold. I would guess that he's the reason you're here, not looking for a companion, so why did you offer?"
"You're interesting, and my PA tells me I need to socialize more often." He answers absently as he continues to watch the target, not responding to any other part of the statement.
"Alright," John replies after several moments considering that then asks, "Do you have a particular place in mind you would like to meet at?"
Still focused elsewhere, he replies with the names of several different cafés, all of them not as pricy as he normally goes. When he sees John flinch, it takes only a moment for him to realize the reason is it will e difficult for the doctor to reach many of those place by tub and cab could be costly. He appears to be on a very limited budget so that could be an issue.
"I can send a car for you," he offers, shifting most of his focus to the soldier.
Tightly, John nods and pulls out a card with his address on it. It is one of the plain cards that the club provides for just this reason. He knows he could also request the details of John's desired contract, but will just have his PA gather information for him instead.
"Excellent, Tuesday at one pm?" he asks.
"That sounds good," John answers with a nod.
"Perfect, if you will excuse me, I will look forward to our lunch on Tuesday." He tells the soldier before standing and heading towards the door.
"Is everything alright sir?" the hostess who had greeted him inquires as she sees him collecting his things.
"Yes, it was excellent actually, I was just called back to work unfortunately," he replies with a politician's smile.
"Ah," she answers with a small nod, "A common problem among our patrons, I hope things turn out well." With that her attention turns back to greet and speaking with people.
He didn't even make it to the dinner portion of the night. Though the whiskey was good.
Just as he is getting out the door, he sees something swinging at his head from the corner of his eye.