Chapter One
(Disclaimer – This story is based on the characters written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the Mycroft Holmes is based on the BBC TV series played by Mark Gatiss, written by Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat. I in no way claim to own these characters.)
(Fluff will start from chapter six. There may be some violence in chapter 10 onwards (not sexual though!). Enjoy!)
Mycroft walked up to the Diogenes club, giving a nod to the waiting door man who opened the door as he approached. He shook his umbrella down, straightened his tie and brushed any specks from his suit and stepped into the club. The number one rule of the Diogenes club: No talking. Unless of course you're an especially important client, like Mycroft Holmes, in which case you can have access to a smaller, more informal area, where communication is allowed. Only for the privileged few. With a fully stocked bar, of course.
"My usual table please Herbert, in the 'smaller' lounge. I need to make some phone calls".
"Oh, Sir". He looks up slightly startled. "Sorry sir, I thought you were already at your table".
"What? No, I'm here. Obviously. My usual table if you please."
"Of course sir, my apologies. This way."
They walked down the corridor and through into the lounge area. There were a few other gentlemen sat around, all with laptops, a few talking quietly on their phones. Mycroft's table was more of a booth, situated in the far corner near the window.
As Mycroft's booth came into view, they both stopped and stared. There was someone already sat in there.
The person was reading a newspaper which blocked their face from view. Mycroft noticed it was the same newspaper he had tucked under his arm. The somebody, well, looked like Mycroft. He was sat there with his left leg crossed over his right. Wearing the exact same shoes and trousers Mycroft was wearing. The exact same brief case and umbrella were on the seat next to them and they were even wearing a gold ring, on the fourth finger, of the right hand. It was a slender hand.
All these little details were picked up by Mycroft in an instant and the cogs were working overdrive.
Oh god, they're coming over. This is it. Time to perform.
Herbet turned to Mycroft apologetically, "Sir, I'm so sorry, I'll just ask this gentleman to move to another table. There must be some mistake." It was at this point that the somebody at the table spoke, "Oh there's no need for that". They moved the newspaper down and began to fold it up, "Mr Holmes won't mind sharing, just for today?" followed by a brilliant smile.
Mycroft kept his cool, as he always does, but his mind was working furiously and his eyes narrowed. The somebody was a women, not a man. Sat there at HIS table, wearing the exact same suit he was wearing and keeping her cool just as good as Mycroft. To say he was angry would be too much, but to say he was intrigued would be an understatement. He was very intrigued. This women was even wearing the same tie, waistcoat, shirt and jacket as Mycroft. And smiling like a Cheshire cat. How? How did she even get in here?
Herbert was speechless and just stood there with his mouth open a bit. "Sir?"
"It's alright Herbert. I'll share. Just for today."
"Excellent!" She said as Mycroft went to sit down on the opposite side.
He turned to Herbert and was just about to place his drink order when she cut in.
"I'll have a pot of the English Breakfast tea, steeped for precisely 3 minutes and served with very cold skimmed milk. I believe Mr Holmes will have the same."
Mycroft froze for a split second. Was she reading him? How did she know that? He turned to Herbert and gave a nod, "I believe I will."
He was now seated across from the women with his brief case and umbrella next to him, his hands folded on his lap, looking straight at her. Nothing. How can there be nothing. He couldn't deduce anything from her. She was dressed exactly like him, she had a neat cropped bob with a blunt fringe, well groomed, attractive. Oh dear, had he just thought that? She had a curious look in her eyes and her lips were ever so slightly curled up at the edges, suggesting an air of smugness or even mild amusement. Suddenly there was a hint of panic somewhere in the recesses of Mycroft's mind, a slight flutter in the stomach. This was HIS turf, she should be the one who felt uncomfortable, what the hell, she shouldn't even be in here! All these questions and more flashed in his mind, but he just couldn't come up with an answer. His collar started to feel a little bit tight.
And there he is. Mycroft Holmes. In all his glory…Oh god what the hell am I doing here? I'm not going to walk out of here alive! What was I thinking! ...Stay calm, stay calm, you can do this. He's just trying to figure me out. Don't give anything away you don't want to… Stay in control… God my throats dry. Breath. You've got this.
Herbert approached the table carrying a tray, "Your drinks", he began to place the cup and saucers down and one large pot of tea in the middle.
"Shall I be mother?" She looked up enquiringly at Mycroft with a grin on her face as she reached out for the tea pot. He gave her one of his most formidable looks and then conceded with a wave of his hand.
Now focus. Don't give yourself away with shaking hands.
Mycroft didn't move a muscle as she poured the tea into each cup. He was staring at her, watching every movement, trying to see a crack, a way in, anything to give him a clue as to who this women was and what she wanted.
"Ahhh, lovely" she said smiling after taking a drink, "So refreshing, don't you think?"
Mycroft lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip, "Indeed".
She sat back, crossed her left leg over her right and folded her hands in her lap. "You're looking a little bit agitated Mr Holmes, I hope it's nothing to do with me?"
Mycroft's eyes narrowed, "What do you want?"
"Ah, straight down to business! Not even a 'what's your name' or 'how do you do', very predictable Mr Holmes"
He really had to focus on not letting his surprise register on his face. "I wouldn't expect to get a real name, so why waste my time asking? Answer the question."
"What do I want? Hmmm…lots of things, I suppose. But right here, right now," She paused for a moment in thought, "I'm already getting exactly what I want."
"And that would be?" Mycroft was getting impatient now, more with himself than her. He still couldn't get a read.
She looks up in mock surprise, "You mean you don't know?"
"Evidently not. Why don't you enlighten me?"
"Aw, there's no fun in just telling" She reached across and picked up her tea cup.
Mycroft softly growled, "Stop wasting my time."
"You'll just have to think harder Mr Holmes." She said playfully.
Mycroft's mind was on fire, cogs turning furiously. Time for a different tactic. He gives a half smile and leans forward reaching for his tea cup, "It seems you have me at a disadvantage, Miss…?"
"It's Kate, Miss Kate Worthing."
"Well, Miss Worthing, thank you for giving me your real name" His crystal blue eyes staring straight through her. "You presumed that I would think it was a false name, so you gave me your real one, as a double bluff."
"Not at all." She smiled, "I could see you were struggling, so thought I'd give you something to work with, otherwise I might not leave here alive." She looked up at him and winked.
Mycroft's eyes narrowed even more. Shit, maybe I've pushed too far.
Kate reached out and took a drink of tea to hide her rising discomfort. She knew this whole endeavour was a major risk and she was walking on a tightrope. It felt wobbly now.
Mycroft had never felt so incensed in such a short period of time before, well maybe by his brother, but struggling indeed! He kept his cool, relaxed back into the seat and waited for the cracks to appear. They always appear.
"And what makes you think you were ever leaving alive?" His piercing blue eyes shone.
Kate's hand froze half way to taking a sip of tea. She recovered quickly, only hesitating for a fraction of a second but it was enough. Mycroft thought, 'Ah, the cracks'.
Time to make my exit!
"Well, this has been….a pleasure, but I must take your leave." She stands up reaching for the brief case and umbrella, trying to mask the rising panic inside but failing. She couldn't stop the slight shake in her hands.
Is she suddenly afraid? "Of course, Miss Worthing" Grinning, he stands up matching her movements and moves out of the booth, offering out a hand to shake and almost looming over her as his full height and stature is revealed compared to hers. He grips her hand and remarks, "At least your hands weren't shaking when you poured the tea". She looks up and briefly locks eyes with him, trying to keep her face straight, "Thank you Mr Holmes, for your time". Mycroft was just grinning.
"You're welcome Miss Worthing. It's been a most interesting encounter."
Kate turns and starts to walk away but stops only a few paces from Mycroft. She turns round to face him, "You will think…hard, won't you Mr Holmes?"
Mycroft raises his eyebrows.
As she gets out of view, turning out of the door way into the corridor, she slams her back up against the wall, letting out a massive sigh of relief, eyes shut.
I can't believe I just did that! Phew! I pulled it off!
Mycroft sat back down at the table perplexed. He allowed himself a small smirk before pulling out his laptop and phone, taking a sip of tea while dialling Anthea's number, "Get all the information possible on a Kate Worthing. And I mean everything. I'll be back in an hour."