The Brothers
(a meeting between Holmes and Mycroft following
the elopement of early February)
Those responsible: written by Clarrie a.k.a. 'Buckets,' on the insistence of her friend Min who claims that she is becoming, to quote, 'rather bitter and overly cynical.'
'You realise,' Mycroft pursed his lips irritably, 'That she will flutter.'
Holmes struggled to prevent himself from smiling. 'Flutter?''Flutter.'
'I do not believe I have ever seen Russell, as you so charmingly put it, flutter, Mycroft.' Holmes raised an eyebrow and poured two cups of tea from the pot bearing the insignia of the Diogenes club. 'She is commendably... unfluttering.'
'She will, they all do.' Mycroft stared darkly into his tea. 'Flutter.'
'Hormonal I should imagine.' Muttered Holmes sardonically, a flicker of amusement showed in his eyes, much to his older brother's chagrin.
Mycroft glared at his brother over the rim of his teacup. 'I had thought you above such things.'
'Honestly,' Holmes shook his head wearily, 'you say it as if... as if I were Watson!'
Mycroft allowed himself a smile. 'A widow he met on his latest voyage back from America I believe.'
Holmes nodded. 'So I had heard.'
'It'll all end in tears, you know, Sherlock.'
'Really?' Holmes faced his brother blankly. 'When we last spoke he seemed very... '
'You know what I meant,' interrupted Mycroft sharply. 'No good can come of it.'
'I must say, I had expected a somewhat less negative response from my only brother.'
'Yes?' Countered Mycroft sarcastically. 'And what, may I ask, did you expect? Champagne? Cigars? A hearty pat on the back and a cry of - 'Good old Sherlock, never knew he had it in him'?'
Holmes looked hurt. 'There's no need to be like that Mycroft.'
'I'm sorry brother,' Mycroft sniffed condescendingly, 'I'm sure that Miss Russell is a highly capable young lady, but I have to admit I'm not a little disappointed in you.'
'That is a pity Mycroft.'
Mycroft relaxed back into his chair. 'Well there it is.' He lay his cup back into the saucer before him. 'I cannot tell a lie, as our American friends might put it.'
Holmes raised an eyebrow once again. 'Well brother, I must say that this is a great pity.' He placed his own cup back down and removed himself from the table. 'Russell and I had rather hoped to have you for a godfather...'
'Really, Holmes, It was cruel and unnecessary!' Russell let the teaspoon fall heavily into the sugar-bowl.
'He was being quite insufferable,' Holmes accepted his cup and watched as Russell continued to fuss around the tea tray, 'I merely...'
'No, I don't want to hear it. I cannot imagine why you feel yourself entitled to torment him quite so...' Russell brushed the spilt sugar into the palm of her hand and transferred it to the nearby bin. 'And in his own club, too!'
'Yes dear,' murmured Holmes, meek as a lamb, but staring deeply into his tea nonetheless.
Russell picked up the teapot and ran a cloth over the underneath. 'Honestly, and it's not as if he expressed any opinion that you yourself have not held...''Yes dear.'
'And frankly, I would rather not have it be put about that I was responsible for any of my inlaws' demise.' The pot was placed firmly back onto the surface and the sugar bowl lifted for similar treatment.
'Yes de...'
'If you wouldn't mind mocking me quite so openly, Holmes.' Interrupted Russell. 'You really are...'
'I apologise wholeheartedly, Russell.' Interrupted Holmes in return. 'I assure you that if called to speak in your defence again I shall simply...'
'Oh!' An indignant snort from Russell cut short Holmes' words. 'A highly flattering way of doing so you chose, too!'
'Well, it is not a worry you need have in future.' Holmes paused to drain his cup and slid back his chair. 'Mycroft may now express any opinion about you that he wishes before me without fear of rebuke - would that please your feminist sensibilities?'
'I do not need defending, Holmes.' Russell folded the tea-cloth and placed it to one side. 'And I'm sure that Mycroft said nothing at all untoward.'
'He inferred,' Holmes leant against the doorframe watching the bustling activity, 'that you were liable to flutter... 'With this, Holmes turned and retreated down the hall.
'Hmph.' There was a clatter of china as Russell finally arranged the various pieces on the tray to her satisfaction. She frowned and turned to stare in puzzlement in the direction of Holmes' departure. 'Flutter?'