A New Year's Tradition

Author's Note: Thank you all for reading and following along during this 2024 December Challenge. Thank you for persevering in spite of some technical issues these past few days on the site. Many thanks to Hades Lord of the Dead for organizing everything.

From Book girl fan - Mycroft's New Years tradition

From trustingHim17 - Auld Lang Syne

Mycroft was respectable, dependable, formidable, and dignified. His brain was cast from a mold entirely unique and fitted for the smooth running of the British empire. He stockpiled all information, cross referenced it, and kept a running tally of every official in the kingdom. Mycroft's New Year's tradition did not involve parties or dancing. It did not involve chasing after criminal masterminds through the dark alleys of London either, like his younger brother, Sherlock. He rarely socialized on the evening of the New Year.

Instead, Mycroft's tradition was stalwart and dependable. Impressive yet understated. He preferred to organize the annual fireworks on the Thames in front of Whitehall. A light display without equal. Sparkling wonder that would promote universal amazement. His copious memory could recall the location and angle for every firework stationed. He could see the entire masterful artistry before the explosions were detonated. His mind, cross referenced with as formidable a knowledge of chemicals as anyone, understood how each firework would look and feel. He found pleasure in weaving the fireworks into a lattice work of beautiful luminance. He was an artist with his palette of exploding colors carefully placing each hue and shade to create a masterpiece.

It was December 31. The clock tolled a soulful rhythm of twelve notes. Mycroft stood watching from his office overlooking the Thames. He poured himself a glass of sherry, his one indulgent pleasure for the holiday. As the bells' echoing died in the distance, the artistic mastermind waited for the reveal of his dazzling canvas, the night sky of London. As the first fireworks shot up into the air and a few delighted cries rose up from the waiting crowds, he took his first sip of sherry. The luminescent display continued with reds and whites and golds shimmering over the water.

"For auld lang syne," he murmured to himself as he gazed over the expanse of London. The sherry warmed his throat and the liquid sent pleasant tendrils through his body. He thought of his brother, his friends, and his country.

"Should old acquaintance be forgot,

and never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

and auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,

for auld lang syne,

we'll take a cup of kindness yet,

for auld lang syne."

By Robert Burns 1788

Wishing all a beautiful New Year of 2025!