Summary: After having fun on New Year's, Sylvia wonders if Mycroft is jealous. Mycroft decides to take charge…and control.

Trigger Warning: I don't know how to tag here so I'll add these TW: Sub/dom dynamic, BDSM, OC is submissive, Mycroft is dominant. If you are not into it, please don't read. There is kissing but no sex yet. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 18 - Under Mr. Holmes' control

After a couple of more uneventful days, New Year's Eve came and I was invited by Molly to go out with her, Lestrade and Sally, Lestrade's partner. I was nervous but very excited to have been invited and I was looking forward to it. Since I usually wear comfortable baggy clothes, I took the opportunity to get all dressed up so I got my hair done, put on some makeup and decided to wear a black corset dress with a skirt that flowed just above my knees and showed off my legs. Because of the cold though, I put on some stockings because I didn't want to freeze on my way there. I felt sexy and attractive and even got compliments from the gang as Molly and I joined them at a nearby pub. We all talked about work and Sherlock shenanigans and drank the evening away.

I was really having a great time and I thanked the Lord on high that I was actually able to make friends. I was hanging out in a public space with people who enjoyed my company, I didn't feel anxious or left out, and I even made a few good jokes that got them laughing. We went pub crawling until midnight and then ended up in a cool disco and had way too much to drink.

I couldn't help but miss Mycroft though. I hadn't seen him since Christmas and I contemplated sending him a text wishing him a Happy New Year, but given I could barely make out the letters on my phone screen I decided against it.

As we danced away in the club, a random guy approached me and asked me if I wanted to dance with him. He was kind of cute and seemed nice so I said yes. Molly shot me a knowing glance and giggled and I chuckled too, feeling embarrassed, but glad that I was still near her and the others.

Eventually they all started getting too tired and started making plans to go home. The guy, whose name was Tom, offered to walk me home. I was feeling ecstatic and elated so I bid my goodbyes, and everyone smirked at me and Tom, with Lestrade drunkenly hollering: "Use protection!". Me and Tom laughed and said our goodbyes, with Molly making me promise me to text her as soon as I got home.

So we left, and as Tom walked the streets beside me, we started chatting about random stuff and he put his arm around my shoulder to keep me warm. I could tell he was a bit drunk too, and we started having a giggling fit as we walked past a guy leaning on a wall, puking, and we both said "Eww brother ewww!" at the same time. I couldn't believe I found someone who could quote stupid TikTok's too. Because we were laughing so hard, everything else we said sounded even funnier, so it got to the point where we were wheezing. I hadn't laughed like that in a long time and it felt good. Before I knew it, we had reached 221b, and we lingered in the doorway. I tried to say something and started giggling again and Tom leaned in to kiss me. I stopped laughing immediately and I let him, but I didn't feel any sparks. Despite his drunkenness, he noticed.

"I'm sorry I just…I have feelings for someone and it's…complicated." I started.

He shook his head and waved his hands dismissively. "It's alright Sylvia, don't worry about it. Just shooting my shot. Still friends?"

"Yes, I'd like that. It's nice to have someone to share memes with." We both laughed, already making light of the situation. He asked for my number and I gave it to him. As he typed, wavering a bit on the sidewalk I asked: "Are you okay? You want me to call you an Uber somewhere?"

"Nah, I'm good, don't worry about it, I'm meeting a friend who was at another club, he lives near here."

"Alright but…text me when you get to him okay?"

"Don't worry about it." He laughed it off.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

I smiled at him and we waved each other goodbye. He was very laid back and it was refreshing to be with someone direct and forthcoming instead of brooding double-entendre-hard-to-decipher Mr. Holmes. After I made my way to my flat, holding onto the railing and stumbling on the stairs, I started taking my clothes off and putting on some fluffy pyjamas. Then, I remembered Molly and quickly texted her that I was home safe and sound. As I did, my phone buzzed.

im with my freind now, wasnt kidnapped. Tom

Thanks for letting me know. Have a good night!

Trhanks, good night sylvuia

I chuckled at his typos. He really was drunk and despite being a man, and one I had just met, I was still worried about sending him out alone into the night like that. He probably only walked me home because he thought I would invite him in and we'd sleep together. I was just thankful my instincts were right and he was a decent guy who could take rejection. I chuckled again, remembering how much we laughed. I had forgotten how funny it was to be drunk with actual people around and the giggle fits started. I saved his number under "Tom" with the cry laughing emoji and the one with 2 beers clinking together.

I checked the time on my phone: 4 a.m. I sighed and thought about Mycroft again. I knew I shouldn't have feelings for him still, but I couldn't help it, and after our sweet moment at Christmas and the awkwardness of the mistletoe, I was left a mess with the familiar butterflies on my stomach. I knew I should move on and meet other guys, and going out tonight was a nice step. So what if I didn't feel attracted to Tom? At least I made a new friend, close to my age and who shares similar interests. Maybe we could go out again with other friends and I would eventually meet someone I liked. I deemed the night a success and fell into a drunken sleep.

I woke up the next morning at around 11 a.m., dying for a wee, but feeling better than I expected. I guess when you went out dancing and drinking with friends instead of drinking alone at home you tended to feel slightly better. Perhaps you sweated out the alcohol, or maybe your brain just produced more serotonin from the social interactions. Either way, I still felt slightly weak and tired. I checked my phone and saw I had a text from Mycroft from 5 minutes ago:

How is Sherlock this morning? MH

I sighed and thought Wow, he really did waste no time did he? I decided to get ready and have some breakfast before I replied to him. It was New Year's Day after all, a bank holiday, so I'm sure he would understand. As I was sipping my coffee in the kitchen, another text came.

Miss Silvia I need you to check on Sherlock. MH

I huffed and rolled my eyes. He couldn't even wish me a Happy New Year? Just because he was grumpy and probably didn't celebrate, didn't mean the rest of the world was the same. Part of me could understand his insistence but I also felt it was a bit unnecessary and a power trip. Surely Sherlock wasn't in danger every second of every day.

I debated internally with not answering to assert my boundaries but then I remembered since I met Mycroft, he had kept on sending the payments through my bank account regardless of if I was on speaking terms with him or not. He had said on several occasions that what I did was important, and he wanted to keep paying me and, of course, I accepted because who wouldn't? However, ever since we kissed, that dynamic changed, at least for me. It didn't feel like I was working for Mycroft anymore, it felt like I was in love with him. And I didn't want to receive money in exchange for keeping an eye on Sherlock after that. It felt like we were lovers or, at least, close friends and I was just doing him a favour. I was planning on telling him that the morning after we kissed at his safe house, but then it all came crashing down. He not only rejected me, but claimed he went along with the kissing out of pity for me. That hurt my feelings the most. I didn't mind just being rejected. I would feel sad of course, but I would understand. The people I'm attracted to aren't obligated to be attracted to me. But to have all our close and intimate moments boiled down to him taking pity on me made me feel humiliated and deceived. I didn't want to believe it of course, but he made himself quite clear. So, a professional relationship it was, then. Not a romance, not a friendship, just me spying on his brother in exchange for didn't mean he could just control me though. He had to understand I couldn't be available 24/7. I didn't wake up at the same time as him and I couldn't hover over Sherlock like a hawk. I decided to reply in a snippy manner.

Happy New Year to you too. I'm having breakfast. I will check on him soon.

The answer came almost immediately.

Miss Sylvia, I'm a very busy man. I expect you to update me on Sherlock when I ask, in a timely fashion. I don't have time to waste. MH

That did it. I was angry now, so I replied with what I was thinking.

You can't expect me to be at your beck and call alt any time, Mycroft. I have my routine, and I can't be hovering over Sherlock like a hawk 24/7.

I huffed. Why was he being so cold and mean to me? I briefly wondered if Mycroft knew Tom had kissed me last night. I mean, he probably knew I had gone out since he had us all under surveillance but would he really spy on me through the cameras when I was with another man? Surely he wouldn't. He did tell me once he wasn't the one actually checking the cameras and had agents do it for him, so he was probably only alerted in case I was alone or in danger. All the times he picked me up I was always alone so he probably didn't check on me if I was with someone, right? My head was starting to hurt. I was just looking for an excuse to believe Mycroft saw the kiss and was jealous. Give it a rest, Sylvia. After a couple of minutes my phone buzzed again. I could barely drink my coffee, I was so consumed with this.

Of course not, that's why I only ask you to do so at specific times. I've never demanded you to check on Sherlock at inappropriate times so I expect you to comply without protest. MH

He was starting to fluster me with all this talk of demands and orders. I was pissed but I was also kind of enjoying having him talk so sternly to me. It reminded me of the time he practically made me go to the ball with him. Ugh, why do you have to be so attracted to him, you idiot?

Still, I decide it's best to just check on Sherlock and get it over with. I rush downstairs and knock loudly on his door. It was cracked by a sliver so I pushed it open. I find him standing in front of the sofa, staring at a wall covered in newspaper clippings and maps.

"Hey Sherlock, how are you this morning?" I ask in a sarcastic tone.

"Tell Mycroft to piss off, I'm working on a case." Sherlock replies, not bothering to look in my direction.

I chuckle. "I'll tell him just that."

With a grin, I turn around to return upstairs and type out:

He's standing in his living room staring at a wall covered in papers. He told me to tell you to piss off because he's working on a case.

The reply came faster this time.

Very mature of him, and of yourself, Miss Sylvia. Keep an eye on him and tell me if he leaves his flat. I'll deal with your insolence later. MH

I stopped in my tracks as I read the last words. What did he mean he'll deal with my insolence? Why was he talking down to me like a professor to a misbehaving student? It was quite condescending and I was annoyed. However, I couldn't deny it made me feel excited and even giddy to have pissed him off and to have a promise of something more in the future. Something unknown. Would he call me? Would he come over to my flat? Would he send a car to pick me up and take me to his office? My cheeks flushing, I realised he was probably manipulating me. Taking advantage of his power over me, knowing that I liked him and his attention. I decided not to reply.

After taking a much needed shower and calming down a bit, I composed myself and decided to bring some ingredients down to Sherlock's and bake some cookies. After the night out, I was feeling a little more confident and actually wanted to spend time with other people for a change, instead of locking myself up in my flat all day. It still felt like we were in the holiday season, so it was a fun and cheery activity to do. Plus, I missed spending time with Sherlock. He always cheered me up.

"Why are you blushing?" Sherlock asked, now sitting on the floor cross legged, but still staring at the wall, as I carried a bag with flower, butter and chocolate, among other ingredients into his living room.

"Because I've been up and down the stairs, that's why." I reply slightly out of breath.

"Hum. Could it be perhaps because you've been exchanging cheeky texts with my big brother?" He steepled his fingers together.

"What? No! He's being a complete jerk. Super rude. Expects me to drop everything I'm doing to check on you whenever he wants. He's annoying and controlling."

"You know, he never texts anyone." Sherlock replied matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"He hates texting. He always calls. Me, our parents, his employees and work colleagues. I've never seen him text anyone so much."

"That's because he wants me to spy on you, remember? He can't call me, or you'll hear."

Sherlock chuckled. "Please. Do you really believe that excuse Sylvia? He has me under constant surveillance along with everyone I care about. He doesn't need anyone to spy on me, he just wants an excuse to talk to you."

I smiled at Sherlock including me in the people he cared about but decided not to mention it. "Sherlock, that's not true. I've told you. He doesn't like me, he just…felt sorry for me. You keep saying all these things, implying he has feelings for me but I've told you what he told me. He just took pity on me."

"He only said that to push you away from him, to protect you. He doesn't want Moriarty to target you any further and the only way to ensure that is to drive you away from him, make you hate him."

I frowned. "But Sherlock, that doesn't make sense. Moriarty broke into my flat and read my diary. He broke into his safe house. Then he made that poor man ask me if I'd kissed Mycroft. He already knows I like him, there's no way of hiding it."

"Yes, but Mycroft doesn't want him to know he likes you."

"HE DOESN'T!" I replied, exasperated.

He finally turned his body to face me, slightly annoyed and began talking at the speed of light: "You heard Moriarty. He believes you've melted the Ice Man's heart. Mycroft is terrified. He tried to push you away but it didn't work, so he wants to keep an eye on you. The perfect way to do so is under the guise of asking you for information about me he doesn't need."

I rub my forehead and sigh. "Sherlock, he cares aboutyou. He really worries about you, that's why he wants me to check on you all the time. As for me, that's all fine and dandy but I'll believe it when I hear it from his own mouth." I replied, and made my way towards the kitchen, not wanting to get my hopes up and start fantasizing about Mycroft again. My last disappointment hurt enough, thank you very much.

"I'm sure you will." Sherlock replied conspiratorially.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, slightly alarmed.

"You were kissed by another man last night. He'll be furious with jealousy and I'm sure he'll let you know. If he can stop being so dense." He mumbled the last sentence.

"How do you know that!? Were you spying on me through the window?"

Sherlock just hummed in response and assumed his position of concentration again, facing the wall with his eyes closed. I assumed he was going into his mind palace and wouldn't be verbal anytime soon, so I went into the kitchen to bake and ruminate over his words.

After cleaning up and eating some of the cookies (I managed to convince Sherlock to try one, by pretending to cry dramatically if he refused the hard earned treat I slaved over), I made my way upstairs, ready to lay on the sofa eating junk food and binge watching one of my TV shows to nurse my hangover. As I was slipping into warmer, more comfortable clothes, my phone buzzed with a single text from Mycroft:

There will be a car outside your flat in 10 minutes. Get inside it. MH

I huffed in frustration and started to get dressed again, annoyed by the interruption. At the same time, I felt myself tingle with anticipation, slightly nervous as to what Mycroft was planning. Soon after, I was making my way down the stairs yet again (at least all this was making me move more) and as I walked out of 221b, I spotted the familiar sleek black car pulling up. The driver stepped out and opened the door for me and I saw an empty back seat. That made me relax a little. I was actually a little scared of meeting Mycroft. What did he mean by dealing with my insolence? It's not like I said anything I hadn't told him before. I distinctly remember telling him to go fuck himself not too long ago. Still, it felt like I had done something wrong and offended him in some way.

When the car slowed to a stop in front of the Diogenes Club, I was instantly annoyed because I thought we would be meeting at his home. Then I thought, well, it kind of makes sense. He's always working. This is just another business meeting for him. There was no reason for him to want to meet me at his place.

I was led into the club silently by the driver even though I was perfectly capable of doing it by myself. This just felt controlling and unnecessary again. The driver stopped in front of Mycroft's door and nodded, signaling for me to knock on it. I did and heard a distant "Come in."

I opened the door and Mycroft was sitting at his desk, scribbling on a few papers inside a folder with a fancy looking pen. "Sit down." He said coldly, without even glancing up. He wasn't wearing his coat and his sleeves were rolled up which always made me feel giddy inside. I tried to bury those thoughts. I knew I was just excited because of the innuendo of him "punishing me for my insolence", a scenario I would never admit to having thought about on more than one lonely night under my sheets. But I had to remember that I was most likely going to receive not a good seeing to but just a boring and infuriating talking to, full of reminders that my job was to report to him on Sherlock and how important it was that I reply in a timely fashion, because he was such an important man, he didn't have time to check on his own brother.

I sat down and placed my hands next to my knees, fidgeting with the upholstery on the chair. He kept scribbling on his papers and ignoring me completely, so I took the opportunity to roll my eyes dramatically and just stare at him. I was starting to get really nervous so I tried to take a deep breath in and let the air out softly. He closed the folder and placed the pen on its black and gold stand, and finally looked at me. He leaned back on his chair and glanced me up and down, deducing everything he could about my appearance, I assumed.

"Did you have a nice evening?" He finally asked, in a detached tone.

"What?"

"The New Year's festivities." He explained, sounding annoyed.

"Oh, yes. I…yes."

"Yes, I'm sure you did." He repeated in an almost accusatory tone. If I was wondering before if he knew about my kiss with Tom, I was 99% sure now.

Next, he spoke in a deeper, hardened tone: "Do you know why I've asked you here, Miss Sylvia?"

I bit the inside of my lip, betraying my nervousness. I hated questions like these. I shook my head slightly. "I don't know. To talk about Sherlock?"

"That's what Itextyou for. But lately, you seem to be quite uninterested in replying in time, if replying at all."

"That was jus-" He raised his hand to silence me and I stopped, mostly out of surprise. He had never done that before.

"Don't interrupt me. This has been a long time coming, Miss Sylvia."

I dug my nails into the seat of the chair, not sure if I was damaging the upholstery but I had to do something to steady my nerves.

He continued: "Ever since I approached you with my business proposition you've been nothing but disobedient, defiant and verging on insolent. You've engaged in risky and outright harmful behaviours not only to yourself but to my brother as well." He paused and I could feel my heart sink to my stomach. "I don't ask anything impossible or inconvenient of you, only that you report to me on Sherlock's whereabouts and activities. Which isn't hard to do since you two became pals." I opened my mouth to protest but he raised his eyebrows as a warning and I closed it again. "I only ask for regular updates at specific times because I don't always have the time to check on him myself. So it irks me to no end when I have to take time out of my very busy schedule to explain something this simple to you, something that anyone could understand. We have a business arrangement that we agreed to quite some time ago, that you would be under my employment to fulfill this role in exchange for money. So, if I haven't made myself quite clear thus far, if I ask you to do something, you do it. Is that understood?"

I was biting down on my lower lip to stop from cursing at him and also from crying. His words were cruel and it made me think of the time Sherlock ODed. "Yes." I replied quietly, and swallowed, staring at his table. His gaze was too intense.

"Good. So, from now on, I expect you to reply to me in a timely fashion and refrain from snippy remarks. Is that clear?"

I cleared my throat. "Yes."

"Stop digging your nails into my upholstery and look at me, Miss Sylvia." He said in a slightly softer tone but still commanding.

I looked up at him, surprised.

"Is there anything on your mind?"

"What?" My brow furrowed in confusion, I tried to take another deep breath to steady myself.

"You look like you have something to say. Say it." He commanded.

His orders were starting to infuriate me. I pursed my lips and said what was on my mind. "Why are you imposing all these rules now? This stopped being a professional business arrangement a long time ago, when we kissed and you said all those nasty things to me, sir." If he was back to calling me Miss Sylvia (he barely ever called me just Sylvia) and demanding all these rules and boundaries, I wasn't going to call him Mycroft anymore.

He twitched his upper lip in a sneer and spoke in an even colder, venomous tone. "You're quite right Miss Sylvia, and I regret that everyday. But after that, I asked you if you wanted to continue our arrangement and you said yes. So I expect you to fulfil it."

I scoffed. "Oh, you regret it? And is this your way of punishing me? Or is it just because I was hungover and took a few minutes to get ready before I replied to you? After New Year's Eve, of all days!"

He leaned forward and intertwined his fingers on the desk, bringing his face closer, his eyes burning into mine.

"No, Miss Sylvia. I have no problem with you being hungover after staying out all night partying, but I expect you to be ready the next day in case I ask you to check on Sherlock. Need I remind you why all this surveillance on him is needed in the first place?"

"No, you don't. I just think you're exaggerating. I feel like I'm being called to the principal's office, for God's sake."

He smirked. "You have a very active imagination Miss Sylvia. Perhaps you could direct it to find ways to be well-mannered to your superiors."

I scoffed. "Excuse me?"

"I am technically your boss and you are under my authority so I expect you to behave accordingly."

"Is that why you called me here then? To lecture me on how to behave with you?"

He shifted his jaw. "I want you to take this seriously. And yes, I think you need to be taught how to behave properly."

I couldn't tell if he was mocking me or flirting with me, so naturally I assumed he was mocking me. "Oh, I see. And do you have a habit of doing that with all your employees?" I asked with contempt.

"Just the insolent ones." He smirked at me then.

I had had enough of this mockery. "For God's sake, I don't have to listen to this crap." I huffed and got up from my chair.

I heard Mycroft's stern tone: "Where do you think you're going?"

"Home."

As my hand reached the door handle, Mycroft was already beside me. He was faster than I thought. His hand pushed the door shut and he towered over me. "You're not going anywhere until we finish this conversation. I am not done with you."

"You can't make me stay here." I replied with disdain and turned to try and pull the door open, I felt his hand firmly grip my arm just below my wrist and yank me back, so I was facing him. "What are you…let me go!" I lifted my other hand to wrestle away from his grip but he was faster than me and gripped it as well, pulling my arms apart. I stepped back and felt my back hit the wood, so I was practically pinned against the door, him holding both my forearms. I felt my entire body erupt into flames and looked up at him, flustered.

"Oh yes, I can. You're not going anywhere until I'm finished. So stop resisting and sit. down." I considered fighting back with my legs and kicking him but Mycroft seemed to notice because he arched a brow and said in a lower voice: "Don't make me pin you down, Miss Sylvia. Just do what I tell you."

"And what if I refuse?" I tried to pull my arms from him again but he tightened his grip on them, pressing them into the door firmly. He took another step towards me, our chests almost touching.

"If you refuse to obey me, I have many ways to coerce you into complying."

"Are you threatening me?" I replied in an incredulous tone, feeling my breath hitch as I shifted my body against the door, feeling exposed and at his mercy.

He leaned in closer to my face and spoke in an even lower tone, as he looked intensely into my eyes: "I don't have to. I'm sure you'll do what I tell you."

"And what makes you so sure?" I replied, now barely above a whisper, my arms relaxing against his hands, melting under his grip.

"Because you like it." He was practically whispering into my lips now.

"What?" I replied, my back shifting against the door, my chest heaving. He was pinning me against the door and giving me orders and almost kissing me and I was liking all of it very, very much.

He continued with a silky voice and I could feel his breath brushing against my lips: "You like doing what you're told."

My heart pounded in my chest. "I…d-don't know…what you're talking about." I could feel the heat pooling towards my pelvis and my knees weak. His firm grip on my arms and his deep voice so close to me were intoxicating.

He smirked and leaned even closer to my face. He took his time, as if he was enjoying this a lot too, and spoke calmly, and I could feel his breath on my lips again: "Yes you do, Miss Sylvia. You like being told what to do. You're submissive." He paused to breathe in again and I bit my lip, afraid to let out a moan, afraid to breathe. "That's why you've accepted this job in the first place. So, from now on, I expect you to obey my orders without protest. Is that understood?"

"Yes." I replied, glancing down at his tie to avoid his intense blue-grey eyes.

"Yes what?" He tilted his head, his lips almost touching mine. I swallowed, hard.

"Yes, sir."

He smirked devilishly and leaned into my ear: "Good girl."

I closed my eyes and let out a small moan. I shot them open again and saw Mycroft lips form into a wickedly sexy grin, clearly pleased with his victory. We stared at each other and I glanced down at his lips, my heart pounding wildly. He leaned in then and crashed his lips into mine. I kissed him back, hungrily, and strained my arms against his grip. I wanted to touch him. He didn't let me and I moaned into his lips, arching my back against him, yearning to press myself against his body. He pulled away and whispered, slightly out of breath: "You're so eager, my dear. Patience."

He let go of my arms and straightened his back, looking down his nose at me again. I wanted to jump on him but he took a step back. I rubbed my arms and leaned against the door, my chest heaving.

"Now, you won't try to run off again will you?" He asked in a husky voice that was driving me insane. I shook my head no and bit my lip. "Good. Sit down." He nodded towards the chair I had just escaped from.

I breathed in and braced myself to walk over to the chair when all I wanted to do was rip my clothes off as well as his. As I did, I heard the click of a door locking followed by his footsteps close behind me. I sat down, and he placed a hand on my shoulder and bent down so his lips were close to my ear again. "That's much better, my dear." I shivered.

He straightened up and stepped towards his desk, then he turned around and leaned against its surface, stretching his elegant legs in front of him and looking down at me, towering over me again.

"Now, onto your punishment."

Notes:
Sorry it took me longer to update and I hope you enjoyed it. I plan to have Mycroft apologise to Sylvia and admit his true feelings but this just came over me lmao! I'd love to know your thoughts! :)