Rule # 2: Always Say Less Than Necessary

If there was anything Selene Huelsing could infer, it was that Mycroft Holmes was not a normal man. After their encounter at the Diogenes, he had promptly called his secretary, a woman with the code name of Anthea, to come and collect her. For nearly three days, Selene was forced to reside with this mysterious, anonymous woman. She had nothing personally against her. However, she acknowledged this was not her home, and family did not surround her.

Anthea had three young sons and niece whom lived with her. Selene instantly took a strong liking to the girl, Sara. She was a highly intelligent, good humored, and loving young woman. While Selene rarely saw Sara for she was in her first year of university, she found her enjoyable to spend time with. The boys – on the other hand – were a completely different story. Quillian, an eccentric seven year old, was naturally drawn to trouble. The boy was quite brilliant; however, he seemed to lack to maturity for a boy his age. Selene could easily deduce that Anthea's ethic origin hailed from somewhere in the Middle East. Her son, on the contrary, was not full Arab, so it was highly plausible that he had an Anglo-Caucasian father.

Almart was the elder son. The boy rarely spoke during their time spent together. Selene suspected he was only slightly older than she – perhaps a year or two. Unlike his brother, he had a darker complexion. His hair was ethically quite curly, but his eyes were remarkably blue. And yet they weren't just any blue, they were that same piercing blue. The one that you could tell, only by one look, that he could see into the depths of her soul. For such a reason, Selene avoided him the entire time. She knew her decision was being influenced by prejudice. Nevertheless, she was not interested in experiencing a similar encounter from days prior.

Supposedly, Almart had a twin brother. His name she had never been told. Yet Sara had briefly mentioned in the passing he was away in Morocco for the semester, apparently on some type of government funded cultural emersion project, studying intense Arabic.

The family was down right quirky. They were all coming and going – although still submitting to Anthea's power. The youngest boy was dead set on becoming an adventurer. So in attempt to teach him his history lessons, Almart was constantly exaggerating the works of intellectuals and mutineers to keep his brother's short attention span. He spoke of Henry VIII ingenious conquests in France to arouse his brother's fantasies. Selene was somewhat surprised: she had thought Henry the VIII only conquests had been in the bedroom. When she inquired about the matter Almart had simply snorted, and then mentioned something about women and asking too many questions.

She did not see Mr. Holmes for nearly three days. Anthea told her he was abroad, and that she would be residing with her for the time being. This further confused the young woman. If this Mr. Holmes was her guardian, even though she wasn't certain, why would she be living with his secretary?

This whole encounter was down right strange. She had no clue where her brother and sisters were. Anthea would not answer any of her persisting questions, claiming she would have to wait for Mr. Holmes. Selene tried to explain the whole, Ask and you will not receive concept, but Anthea didn't reply.

Now, after three whole days, he had finally returned. Quillian was asleep when Mycroft came by, and Almart and Sara were out and about. This left Selene and Anthea alone together. Mycroft didn't even address her for the first two hours. He had a somewhat placid expression on his face. He spoke something about a man named Sherlock and some doctor to Anthea.

She had originally been asked to leave the room. When she returned, Mycroft had a glass of brandy and was sitting down cross-legged. Again, he didn't speak. Surprising, his solemn expression didn't make him look like a coward, but rather an intimidating master. As he looked up, his stare was particularly memorizing. Selene felt her gut hitch at his look. How fascinating? A man who could enchant his audience with only a single glance.

Selene shifted her head in good humor. She purposely tried to avoid giving off any physical clues of her personal state. She only wanted him to see what she wanted him to see. Their body postures presented an interesting contrast. If they were in literature, this would have been the perfect example of a character foil, she mused. Her hands were open, showing her innocent and harmlessness. His hands were clasped shut. His legs were crossed, making his body look incredibly closed off. Her body was as straight as a pencil, making her look incredibly open. His feet were pointed away from her, showing he was rather uninterested and not wanting to have any formal social interaction.

Selene had never seen him - a man so formal - make such an informal demeanor. Selene gazed suspiciously around Anthea's living room. He seemed awfully comfortable in his secretary's household. "You look well," Mycroft blurted out rather cynically. Selene turned her head back him, giving him her full attention. He had changed his demeanor and shielded his emotions. Selene raised her eyebrows: "Did you really have to ask, Sir?" Mycroft scrunched his noise and looked down to his drink. " A common formality." He murmured to himself.

Selene shifted awkwardly. Always say less than necessary. She told herself repeatedly. If Selene was conversing with normal people, she would have utilized their vernacular and their frequent dialogue. However, this man was clearly not normal. He used silence as a sign of power. This was highly ironic. Usually the speaker was the one whom possessed power. In this situation, whoever spoke first, clearly showed his or her subordination.

Never Outshine the Master rumbled throughout her mind. By not speaking, she was challenging his superiority. By challenging his superiority, she was at risk for leaving herself in a vulnerable state. So how did she approach this? Acknowledge her subordination, give him a run for his money, play to his fantasies, and find his weakness and strike? The plan rumbled throughout her mind. It could work. Possibly? But only if she played her cards right.

Selene took a seat across from him. "How was your business trip?" She asked, attempting to sound sociable. Mycroft gave her a quizzical look. "I am not at liberty to discuss such matters. As a minor official in the British government, there are some things I must keep private." There was a certain amount of arrogance in his voice. Selene's eyes drifted down to his 10,000 pound suit and the back up to his face. Minor official in the British government? What sort of a fool did he take her for?

Mycroft gave her smirk, almost as if he could read her thoughts. "Not a particularly big one." He teased from across the room. Selene narrowed her eyes. A certain amount of smugness had shown through. How could this man had any personal connection to her mother and step-father? He was such an arse.

"Oh, speak up. I can hear your thinking from across the room." Mycroft flipped his hands up dramatically. Selene looked up. "Why ask when you will not receive?" She crossed her legs now and mimicked his previous defensive decision. Mycroft swished his brandy around his glass. From a distance, the liquid almost looked like pure melted gold. Its warm appearance contrasted his cold stance.

Selene chose to stare at the glass in order to avoid his harsh gaze. This caused Mycroft to shift his head and standup. Selene briefly looked at him and then around the room for Anthea. The woman was nowhere to be seen. Out of fear, her attention was brought back to Mr. Holmes, whom was promptly standing over her. Selene choose to stare at his midsection. "Look at me." He ordered her. The girl looked up into his icy blue eyes. "You will never address me in that tone again." His voice was so low it sent a chill down her spine. "Do you understand me?" Mycroft leaned in forward. Selene nodded her head: "Yes, Sir." She aloud. "It won't happen again."

"No, it won't." Mycroft reiterated," Or there will be consequences." He hissed at her. She then watched him lower his glass of brandy and place the rough glass against her lips. "Drink," He ordered. Selene submitted and choked down the liquid. Selene had never consumed alcohol before and she felt a warm bubbling effect take over in the back of her skull.

Selene was speechless. This was a government official. A man who swore to uphold the law at all cost. And yet he had just forced her to consume an intoxicating beverage that was technically illegal for her to have any form of contact with until she was eighteen. She was flabbergasted. "You may return to your room now," Mycroft spoke as he picked up the paper. She was so confused at the moment. This man was not only a normal man, he was psychotic.

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