Mind if I Smoke? Chapter 2
Title: Mind if I Smoke?
Author: Dreykar
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Word count: 1267
Genre(s): General
Rating: PG
Warnings: Drug use in later chapter
Summary: Six moments of the Holmes brother's relationship based around situations of smoking. A 5 plus 1 format story, the five times Sherlock and Mycroft smoked with each other and the one time they specifially chose not to. Really a telling of their brotherly relationship across time.
Sherlock 21, Mycroft 28.
Mycroft found Sherlock in the third place he looked. It was the balcony that led from one of the upstairs entertaining rooms at the family estate. The outdoor area itself was the size of a double garage.
The final year university student sat up on the ledge with the sort of relaxed grace the elder man knew he could never achieve himself even if he tried. Sherlock had disappeared half an hour ago and people were wondering where he was as they thought he should be in clear view at his own father's wake. Mycroft knew however that this was a role that he would have to embody today and, with a grim feeling, he knew it would be him from now on. The time that he anticipated had finally arrived and there were 150 people in one of the large downstairs rooms to prove himself to.
"Well, that was tedious, wasn't it?" the younger man began, not even looking over at his visitor. He was gazing out over the expansive grounds of the manor as the afternoon sun began to fade, blowing smoke from between his pink lips with a bored expression displayed across his features. It was the first time he'd been here in over a year.
"Thank you for coming, Sherlock". The addressed one looked him up and down and guessing correctly offered the pack of cigarettes and his silver lighter. He waited to speak until after the other had lit up and had a few well needed drags. It had been a tough few weeks, no one deserved to have a death drawn out from illness in that way, not even their emotionally distant father. As with a lot of things in their relationship it was something that these two didn't need to verbalise to the other.
"I suppose I should go and speak with Mummy. Tell her it was a beautiful service and whatever else you're meant to say when someone you didn't care for is never coming back".
Mycroft winced a little, his brother had upped the nicotine content considerably, the hit of it made his heart race and he felt light headed. "I have already done so. But I think it would mean something to her if you were to as well. Do try to say it as though you care"
"Did you?". The office worker just gave a little smile, he must have just been himself then. The younger man changed the subject. "Did you see Aunt Eugenie? Looked as though this whole thing was a personal affront. I suppose it prevented her from playing cards with the local ladies or holding her own tea party. How dreary for her".
"Indeed". They stayed like this for a while, the only sound the hissing crackle of the tip of the cigarette when it was inhaled. "Mummy wanted me to let you know that your share of the will has been placed into a managed fund".
Sherlock looked sour but unsurprised. "Managed by whom?" he queried already knowing the answer. Mycroft noticed the dark circles under the eyes, the shagginess of the haircut and the slight congestion in the voice. His brother was really starting to look like a man now, he'd grown into his height a little more but it was his health and state of mind which he wanted to know about. He hoped his deductions were wrong but he knew they weren't, they really never were.
"There won't be too many formalities, Sherlock, but you're still a student and with some of the things I know you're dabbling in you know it's for the best".
The seated one tapped some ash down into the garden below, he couldn't hide anything from his brother in this case so he wasn't going to try. "Why you though? Why not someone else?"
"Who else do you speak with?" the government worker queried with a raise of his brow. "Who else would deal with you when you need the money most? No, it's best that I have the responsibility".
Sherlock shifted his legs so he was dangling them over the edge, one story up, as if daring the man to comment on his reckless behaviour. If not this then the other things he had been up to that he wasn't trying to hide. "You know, you want me to grow up and gain some responsibility. That's never going to happen if you have to hold my hand every step of the way"
"What and instead let your hand be free to depress the end of a loaded syringe?" he gave a humourless smirk as they made eye contact, Sherlock stilled a little waiting for something, anything. "No, it's for the best".
The younger man changes tact. "I hear that you've been at your office more and more and at your townhouse less and less. Anything you wish to tell me?"
"Apart from hard work will get me where I want to be? Not all of us can spend the day playing with a chemistry set for no gain apart from satisfying our own curiosity. You need to think about the future, Sherlock, about what you want to achieve. How you're going to make something of yourself".
The curly haired brunet winced then seemed to look as though he'd won a bet but then it was gone, lost beneath a steady mask. "I see Father's spirit is alive and well even though his body has begun to decay in the soil". He stubbed his cigarette out on the concrete banister and flicked it downwards as he forcefully blew out the last of the wispy smoke.
"Sherlock" Mycroft pleaded as his sibling rose and took a few steps towards the door. He was obviously hurt and he wondered how many people would be able to pick up that this was the case.
"It didn't take you long to take up the mantle, although you've been building up to it for years" he seemed to vibrate with the injustice of it all but his voice was as steady as ever. "Controlling my money and other affairs is a nice touch but one I expected to take at least a month longer. I suppose I should congratulate you". He straighened his blazer, lifting his head so he was looking down his nose at his brother. He seemed to be building up to the crux of his anger. "Good day, Mycroft. If the new wristwatch Victor is wearing is anything to go by I'm sure you'll be hearing from him as soon as I make any solid decisions about my future, which you seem so concerned about". He began to walk off but turned to say "And there was me just thinking that the offer of money for some discreet information was merely just a test of character". He seemed to ponder a deep question and when he spoke it was light and airy "I wonder if it's it's too late to get a cab back to London from out this way?". At this he strolled back into the house leaving Mycroft bowing his head in silence wondering when it would be that the man he still saw as a boy would trust him again.
Next: Sherlock 25, Mycroft 32. Comments are appreciated :)
Previous Chapter
Next Chapter
Author: Dreykar
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Word count: 1267
Genre(s): General
Rating: PG
Warnings: Drug use in later chapter
Summary: Six moments of the Holmes brother's relationship based around situations of smoking. A 5 plus 1 format story, the five times Sherlock and Mycroft smoked with each other and the one time they specifially chose not to. Really a telling of their brotherly relationship across time.
Sherlock 21, Mycroft 28.
Mycroft found Sherlock in the third place he looked. It was the balcony that led from one of the upstairs entertaining rooms at the family estate. The outdoor area itself was the size of a double garage.
The final year university student sat up on the ledge with the sort of relaxed grace the elder man knew he could never achieve himself even if he tried. Sherlock had disappeared half an hour ago and people were wondering where he was as they thought he should be in clear view at his own father's wake. Mycroft knew however that this was a role that he would have to embody today and, with a grim feeling, he knew it would be him from now on. The time that he anticipated had finally arrived and there were 150 people in one of the large downstairs rooms to prove himself to.
"Well, that was tedious, wasn't it?" the younger man began, not even looking over at his visitor. He was gazing out over the expansive grounds of the manor as the afternoon sun began to fade, blowing smoke from between his pink lips with a bored expression displayed across his features. It was the first time he'd been here in over a year.
"Thank you for coming, Sherlock". The addressed one looked him up and down and guessing correctly offered the pack of cigarettes and his silver lighter. He waited to speak until after the other had lit up and had a few well needed drags. It had been a tough few weeks, no one deserved to have a death drawn out from illness in that way, not even their emotionally distant father. As with a lot of things in their relationship it was something that these two didn't need to verbalise to the other.
"I suppose I should go and speak with Mummy. Tell her it was a beautiful service and whatever else you're meant to say when someone you didn't care for is never coming back".
Mycroft winced a little, his brother had upped the nicotine content considerably, the hit of it made his heart race and he felt light headed. "I have already done so. But I think it would mean something to her if you were to as well. Do try to say it as though you care"
"Did you?". The office worker just gave a little smile, he must have just been himself then. The younger man changed the subject. "Did you see Aunt Eugenie? Looked as though this whole thing was a personal affront. I suppose it prevented her from playing cards with the local ladies or holding her own tea party. How dreary for her".
"Indeed". They stayed like this for a while, the only sound the hissing crackle of the tip of the cigarette when it was inhaled. "Mummy wanted me to let you know that your share of the will has been placed into a managed fund".
Sherlock looked sour but unsurprised. "Managed by whom?" he queried already knowing the answer. Mycroft noticed the dark circles under the eyes, the shagginess of the haircut and the slight congestion in the voice. His brother was really starting to look like a man now, he'd grown into his height a little more but it was his health and state of mind which he wanted to know about. He hoped his deductions were wrong but he knew they weren't, they really never were.
"There won't be too many formalities, Sherlock, but you're still a student and with some of the things I know you're dabbling in you know it's for the best".
The seated one tapped some ash down into the garden below, he couldn't hide anything from his brother in this case so he wasn't going to try. "Why you though? Why not someone else?"
"Who else do you speak with?" the government worker queried with a raise of his brow. "Who else would deal with you when you need the money most? No, it's best that I have the responsibility".
Sherlock shifted his legs so he was dangling them over the edge, one story up, as if daring the man to comment on his reckless behaviour. If not this then the other things he had been up to that he wasn't trying to hide. "You know, you want me to grow up and gain some responsibility. That's never going to happen if you have to hold my hand every step of the way"
"What and instead let your hand be free to depress the end of a loaded syringe?" he gave a humourless smirk as they made eye contact, Sherlock stilled a little waiting for something, anything. "No, it's for the best".
The younger man changes tact. "I hear that you've been at your office more and more and at your townhouse less and less. Anything you wish to tell me?"
"Apart from hard work will get me where I want to be? Not all of us can spend the day playing with a chemistry set for no gain apart from satisfying our own curiosity. You need to think about the future, Sherlock, about what you want to achieve. How you're going to make something of yourself".
The curly haired brunet winced then seemed to look as though he'd won a bet but then it was gone, lost beneath a steady mask. "I see Father's spirit is alive and well even though his body has begun to decay in the soil". He stubbed his cigarette out on the concrete banister and flicked it downwards as he forcefully blew out the last of the wispy smoke.
"Sherlock" Mycroft pleaded as his sibling rose and took a few steps towards the door. He was obviously hurt and he wondered how many people would be able to pick up that this was the case.
"It didn't take you long to take up the mantle, although you've been building up to it for years" he seemed to vibrate with the injustice of it all but his voice was as steady as ever. "Controlling my money and other affairs is a nice touch but one I expected to take at least a month longer. I suppose I should congratulate you". He straighened his blazer, lifting his head so he was looking down his nose at his brother. He seemed to be building up to the crux of his anger. "Good day, Mycroft. If the new wristwatch Victor is wearing is anything to go by I'm sure you'll be hearing from him as soon as I make any solid decisions about my future, which you seem so concerned about". He began to walk off but turned to say "And there was me just thinking that the offer of money for some discreet information was merely just a test of character". He seemed to ponder a deep question and when he spoke it was light and airy "I wonder if it's it's too late to get a cab back to London from out this way?". At this he strolled back into the house leaving Mycroft bowing his head in silence wondering when it would be that the man he still saw as a boy would trust him again.
Next: Sherlock 25, Mycroft 32. Comments are appreciated :)
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