The Flower Blooms
July 1888
Claire was finally done updating the index for the year.
It had taken her almost two months to finish it, but in the end Holmes had given her a bonus and told her she did a good job. Without the stress of trying to look up obscure names, Claire was put in charge of the mail and Holmes's schedule.
It was a particular hot and hostile day when a letter arrived for her. Watson was sitting in his usual spot on the sofa, glad to be out of the humid air. Holmes was investigating a few forgery cases and was busying himself with his chemistry set. The door opened with Mrs. Hudson holding a letter towards Claire, who took it with a nod of her head.
"If that's the police department tell them to have an ounce of patience once in a while!" Holmes exclaimed while trying to measure something.
Claire turned the envelope over and hid a smile.
"It's addressed to me, Mr. Holmes," she said casually before getting out her letter opener.
Watson smiled at this.
"See, Claire? You said no one would ever write to you."
Claire stifled laughter as she opened the letter, and her eyes began to brighten just a slight bit as she read it.
"Well, what does it say that made you look so happy, Miss Watson?" asked Holmes as he wrote a few notes down in his pad.
She looked up at him.
"Well, you will be surprised to see the author of it."
The woman rose and placed it before him on the table. Holmes's eye dilated for a moment before giving it back to her.
"So, my brother has asked for you? Do not flatter yourself, Miss Watson, he probably has something he wants to give to me but wants you to get it."
Claire shook her head as she looked around for her hat.
"Thank you for the confidence boost, Mr. Holmes, you always find a way to make my day," she said with a hint of sarcasm.
Watson hid a smile.
"I hope you have fun, Claire - I feel as if I am a witness to history."
Claire shot him a look.
"Very funny, John. I'm not the first woman Mycroft Holmes has called on, am I?"
She turned to Holmes, who was being embittered at the thought of her going.
"I think you'll be the first to be invited to the Diogenes Club, and for that - congratulations."
Claire snorted and leapt down the stairs to get into a cab as quickly as possible.
Watson chuckled to himself as he read the short letter Claire had left on her table.
'Dear Miss Watson,
If it is not too much trouble for you, I would be honored if you came to the Diogenes Club half past eleven this morning. I shall look forward to your coming,
Sincerely,
Mycroft Holmes'
Holmes merely shook his head as he returned to his chemicals that he was so comfortable with.
"Didn't I tell you Mycroft would be likely to write her soon?" Watson said, gleeful that he might be right for once.
His friend jotted down something with his right hand while examining some sort of blood.
"You were right about him writing her, but as for friendship I still see no foundations as of yet."
Watson merely shook his head and gazed into the distance, wondering what his cousin was up to.
Claire was trying to get the doorman to understand her and let her into the club's Stranger's Room.
"Look, I was called for by Mr. Mycroft Holmes to meet him a few minutes ago. Now if you don't believe me go ask him yourself!" she said trying to keep cool under the humid air.
The doorman looked at her skeptically.
"I'll go ask for him, but you better not move from that spot."
Claire nodded her thanks and continued to stand in the large archway fanning herself for ten minutes - until she got the idea to cross the street and wave at Mycroft where he could see her through his telescope.
Mycroft Holmes sat in his room at the Diogenes Club, glad that he had a fan to keep himself cool in this humid weather. He checked his pocket watch and saw that it was ten after eleven, and he went hurrying to the telescope to see if Miss Watson was nearby.
Just as he peered into the lens he saw her waving at him, trying to tell him to let her in. Moving as fast as he could for a large man, Mycroft ran into the doorman who turned her away.
"Please let the young woman in, Basil, she has an appointment."
The doorman nodded and set off to go allow Claire in.
Claire saw the doorman wave her over and crossed the street without too much trouble.
"Sorry for the delay, Miss, I was only doing my duty," he apologized to her before showing the girl into the Stranger's Room.
Claire took off her hat as she sat in a cushioned chair overlooking the street. While turning her head to get a better view, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in, please," she said pleasantly.
In walked Mycroft Holmes, looking a little overexerted but otherwise in the same shape Claire had seen him in last month.
"My apologies about the doorman, it passed my mind to tell him to expect you," he said while sitting across from her.
Claire shrugged her shoulders.
"It's quite alright, Mr. Holmes. I didn't mind waiting a few minutes," she said comfortingly.
Mycroft leaned forward as if he was telling her a terrible secret.
"Miss Watson, you must be wondering why I called you here, and the reason was that my brother informed me that you used to be a spy."
Claire settled into her chair, remembering seeing Holmes write a letter to Mycroft a few weeks ago.
"That is correct, Mr. Holmes; I worked for Scotland Yard for five years as a spy."
The larger man looked almost mystified at this strong woman sitting in front of him.
"You do realize what a rare profession for a young lady that is, how old are you exactly if you don't mind my asking?"
Claire smiled at him.
"This may surprise you but I'm twenty-seven years old, Mr. Holmes."
Mycroft shook his head mentally. Sherlock said she was gifted but this was impossible to comprehend. Spies were back-stabbing, lying, dirty and paranoid…or so he thought. Claire Watson seemed to be the exact opposite of her contemporaries, and he wanted not only to know more about her experiences, but her character fascinated him.
"Why are you so different from other former spies I've seen, Miss Watson?" he asked her, trying to read her character.
She looked at her hands before returning her gaze to his warm grey eyes.
"To be honest Mr. Holmes, I think my experience was a lot different from the male spies you've encountered. To begin with I never got mentioned if I completed an assignment; also, if I did something my superiors would never think of, all I got was a dirty look."
She shook her head as if thinking that it was something that shouldn't have happened
"I know I shouldn't complain about my work; I loved wearing my disguises and saving my country but after a while you can only take so much."
The lady sighed softly, looking off into the distance. Mycroft was intrigued.
"But didn't you expect this to happen?" he asked her bluntly.
Claire looked at him with narrowed eyes.
"To a certain point yes, Mr. Holmes, but once you get put in a brothel for undercover work I doubt that the same principle applies," she said as she tried not make her voice sound hard.
Mycroft saw a glimpse of anger in her eyes and decided it was best not to ask her too much.
"I'm curious, Mr. Holmes, as to why you are asking me these questions. Your brother interviewed me three months ago with the same questions. Why didn't he simply give you the notes he took?" she asked the portly man, annoyed that she had to keep repeating her resume.
Mycroft shook his head.
"Miss Watson, Sherlock did send me your answers but I felt that it would better if I got an updated point of view on your previous work."
The lady in a light green dress began to laugh loudly.
"My feelings have not changed, and they are very unlikely to do so. I loved my spy work but in the end I left to stay alive."
Her emphasis on "stay alive" made Mycroft's eyebrows furrow and come together in interest.
"How did you get in such a situation? Does this have to do with the Professor at all?" he asked her, earnestly glad to have such an interesting person at his disposal.
Claire's eyes flashed at him dangerously.
"I'm not an organism you can willingly study, Mr. Holmes. I think I've answered enough questions about my work to satisfy you," she said before standing up and leaving the room.
Mycroft Holmes ran after her and shouted to the doorman.
"Don't let her leave just yet, Basil!" he said while striding towards her.
Claire was mad that she had been a fool to think that Mycroft Holmes was interested in something besides her spy work.
"Miss Watson, please - Sherlock would tell me nothing about Professor James Moriarty."
Claire turned and faced him with a scraped bone look on her face.
"Never mention his full name in my presence again, or I will be forced to stay silent," she said with a serious tone before heading back in front of Mycroft.
"I will tell you the basic facts but no details yet since I have yet to trust you on those matters," she began as soon as they reentered the room. "I was put in an undercover position as the Professor's secretary with an accomplice by the name of Alexander."
She shook her head, not believing that she had to tell this account again.
"From the first moment I met him I despised him, but I never showed it until right before Alexander broke his cover."
She had never told her employer, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, this detailed account because she knew his reaction wouldn't be pleasant.
Mycroft watched Claire intently as she wiped her face with both of her hands before continuing, "He fell in love with me, I'm absolutely certain of that, how it happened I have no idea."
She looked at Mycroft who looked back at her, astonished.
"It was only a matter of time until I had to leave, and now I have to be careful of what I do since there's always the possibility that the Professor is looking for me."
Claire looked outside at the passing people as Mycroft smiled to himself, she wasn't as perfect as he had thought. But her paranoia was understandable since her enemy was still alive somewhere.
"Thank you, Miss Watson. I am sorry that I made you bring up such a painful subject," he said, trying to be a gentleman.
Claire looked at him with an arched eyebrow.
"It's quite all right, Mr. Holmes - it's just I've been telling this story too many times and after a while it sounds repetitive to my mind."
The sweating man was wishing he had his fan once more, Miss Watson was using this time wisely and he had to respect her for that.
"Miss. Watson, this may sound a bit forward but I was wondering if you would like to go with me to the café?" he asked her, trying to make up for the interview he had put her through.
The woman who had been putting him through more mind mazes than others smiled.
"I would be honored," she said quietly before standing a walking out of the club with Mycroft standing by her, looking like he was lucky to be seen with her.