(Untitled)

[not_yourproblem]

Mycroft Holmes is a simple man with simple needs

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[scots_wolf]

"They serve good whiskey here," Urquhart says, casually, leaning on the bar.

He's not drinking whiskey, though, but strong spicy coffee.

[not_yourproblem]

Mycroft takes a moment before looking up at the man, a pleasant smile spread across his face.

"Yes, quite," he says. "It's so rare to find an establishment that knows what they're doing with such matters."

[scots_wolf]

"This place leaves nothing to be desired in that respect," the man says.

[not_yourproblem]

Mycroft's smile doesn't fade.

"I'm still feeling my way around," he says. "I like to get to know a place before making any decisions about it."

[starrydome]

"Is this seat taken?"

The polite question is asked by a very tall personage with bright grey eyes, dressed in a tunic and breeches.

[not_yourproblem]

Mycroft looks up at the man, and after a brief moment of study, shakes his head.

"Not at all," he says easily.

[starrydome]

Elrond sits down, placing his mug on the table alongside a leather-bound book.

"Thank you," he says.

His hair is very long and hangs loosely down his back, held in place with a single, silver clasp,depicting what might be a crest. His clothes are simple but well-made from fine cloth, the tunic matching his eyes perfectly.

He doesn't offer to shake hands, but merely says, "My name is Elrond," and bows his head slightly in greeting.

[cutting_edgex23]

A slim girl dressed in black -- combat boots, yoga pants, tank top, and fingerless gloves -- passes by, nostrils flaring slightly. She is surprisingly quiet for someone wearing boots like that.

Then she looks down at his glass.

X's glance flicks back up to him, and she tilts her head very slightly.

"You are drinking."

[not_yourproblem]

Mycroft smiles at her, and suppresses a laugh.

"How very astute," he says. It should sound condescending by all rights, but somehow it doesn't come off that way at all.

[cutting_edgex23]

X shrugs, one-shouldered and quick.

"The smell is distinctive."

She's in a position to know.

[not_yourproblem]

"Yes, I imagine it is." He gives his glass a light swirl before motioning to a nearby chair.

"Why don't you have a seat, my dear?"

[v_accidentprone]

Alex does not approach Mycroft, because there's no particular need to; he doesn't need anything by the man's seat, and it's not as if he habitually approaches adults in suits.

What he does do, however, is settle into a booth some distance away with a mid-afternoon snack and a book, where he is keeping an eye on Mycroft. There isn't any particular reason for it; just that something about Mycroft screams government to him, much like John Crawley and Alan Blunt, and everyone in Alex's life has taken great care to make sure he not only has but follows on these instincts.

[not_yourproblem]

Mycroft is a very boring man to watch. He's doing nothing beyond staring intently at a spot on the floor and taking the occasional sip of his drink.

Anyone who knew him would know in an instant that he's plotting something evil. Or at least a bit not good.

[v_accidentprone]

Thankfully, Alex doesn't know Mycroft, so all he has to go on is a vague sense of unease. But he knows that part of keeping an eye on someone is going about your own business, like reading your book, while casually remaining within their vicinity.

So in case Mycroft should decide to suddenly stand up and threaten the universe at large with a trick umbrella or something, he's ready.

[not_yourproblem]

Oh, no, my dear boy. Nothing of the sort. The umbrella is merely decorative. Most of the time.

Part of being the secret ruler of Britain is knowing how to tell when you're being watched. Mycroft hates all this espionage nonsense when he's trying to work, so he gets it over with as soon as he's certain.

Which is fairly quickly.

Some time during one of the moments Alex wasn't watching him, Mycroft managed to pass along a message to a wait rat. Moments later, Alex's afternoon snack is replenished in full. Imagine that.