FILL: Marriage à-la-mode 1b/?
anonymous
April 20 2011, 18:33:22 UTC
The Holmes were one of the rich families who still valued arranged marriages. Mrs Holmes’ marriage had been arranged by her husband’s mother, whose marriage had also been arranged, and so forth. It was only logical to let the more experienced parents choose their children’s partners; then the choice was made based on solid principles and pragmatic criteria and not clouded by fickle emotions or worst, hormones. The Holmes didn’t believe in love at first sight, they had seen many proofs that a deep understanding coming from a sensible companionship was a much more solid base for a relationship than love, and the extremely low divorce rate in the family confirmed their beliefs. Still, once every few generation there was a rebellious Holmes who decided to get married after experiencing the so-called loved at first sight, so Mrs Holmes had been relieved as well as happy that Mycroft didn’t plan on being one of the rebels, so she didn’t mind the wait much.
However, passively waiting was not something the Holmes were good at. She knew that, statistically, it would be harder to find a male partner for her son that it would have been to find a female one, therefore she began her research while Mycroft was in his early twenties and just starting to climb the government ladder, so she would be ready when he was. She had asked around her circle of friends, had had personal files of potential suitors sent from agencies that advertised to help devoted parents arrange their children’s wedding, and had even visited a very exclusive club frequented by homosexual aristocrats, all without success.
Years passed and Mrs Holmes continued to keep an eye open for potential partners. Her enthusiasm had been greatly fuelled when the Civil Partnership Act had been induced and she could now imagine how beautiful the ceremony would be, with Mycroft standing next to the man she would eventually choose for him. However, every potential candidate was a let down and eventually she started cursing her own generation for raising Mycroft’s generation; the pompous arrogant gits she was meeting were nothing like the gentleman her husband had been and she was determined to find someone just as good for Mycroft. When it became obvious that she wasn’t going to find someone at the top of the social hierarchy, she turned her attention to the Internet and the dating websites that were supposed to be all the rage.
It sure was an easy and comfortable way to look for a potential husband; she could do it at home, include some very specific search criteria, and the pictures helped eliminate those she knew her son wouldn’t find attractive. Since Mycroft wasn’t ready to settle down with a partner just yet, she only devoted a few hours per month to the search, but by the time Mycroft was thirty-five, she had developed a routine.
She limited her search to men who were five years younger or older than Mycroft, who had an adequate career, were non-smokers, whose political views didn’t clash with Mycroft’s, who weren’t vegetarians, didn’t have children and spoke English. Among the years, she had bookmarked a handful of profiles that she checked once in a while to see if they had been updated or deleted. There were three that she found particularly promising: the first one belonged to a red-headed accountant, the second one looked handsome enough to be a model, but was working in an engineering firm and the last one, the one she found the most intriguing, belonged to a military doctor with kind blue eyes and a shy smile. John Watson seemed to be everything she was looking for, but he hadn’t logged in to the dating website since his profile had been created.
When the three Holmes left the Landmark hotel later that afternoon, Mrs Holmes knew the time had come to contact the three suitors. The endeavour would most likely take most of her time from now on and she inwardly thanked the Lord that Sherlock wasn’t interested in women or men unless they had been brutally murdered; arranging one wedding would be tiring enough, she couldn’t even imagine having to plan two. A lot of planning was indeed involved, she wanted Mycroft to be satisfied with her choice and for the resulting wedding to be perfect.
Re: FILL: Marriage à-la-mode 1b/?
anonymous
April 20 2011, 22:59:55 UTC
Do not worry, there isn't any emotional torture in Mycroft's future. Well, I really don't want to write that, but I would be lying if I said I have everything figured out.
Your grandmother sounds lovely :-)
And thanks for commenting, it means a lot, especially since I'm a big fan of yours.
However, passively waiting was not something the Holmes were good at. She knew that, statistically, it would be harder to find a male partner for her son that it would have been to find a female one, therefore she began her research while Mycroft was in his early twenties and just starting to climb the government ladder, so she would be ready when he was. She had asked around her circle of friends, had had personal files of potential suitors sent from agencies that advertised to help devoted parents arrange their children’s wedding, and had even visited a very exclusive club frequented by homosexual aristocrats, all without success.
Years passed and Mrs Holmes continued to keep an eye open for potential partners. Her enthusiasm had been greatly fuelled when the Civil Partnership Act had been induced and she could now imagine how beautiful the ceremony would be, with Mycroft standing next to the man she would eventually choose for him. However, every potential candidate was a let down and eventually she started cursing her own generation for raising Mycroft’s generation; the pompous arrogant gits she was meeting were nothing like the gentleman her husband had been and she was determined to find someone just as good for Mycroft. When it became obvious that she wasn’t going to find someone at the top of the social hierarchy, she turned her attention to the Internet and the dating websites that were supposed to be all the rage.
It sure was an easy and comfortable way to look for a potential husband; she could do it at home, include some very specific search criteria, and the pictures helped eliminate those she knew her son wouldn’t find attractive. Since Mycroft wasn’t ready to settle down with a partner just yet, she only devoted a few hours per month to the search, but by the time Mycroft was thirty-five, she had developed a routine.
She limited her search to men who were five years younger or older than Mycroft, who had an adequate career, were non-smokers, whose political views didn’t clash with Mycroft’s, who weren’t vegetarians, didn’t have children and spoke English. Among the years, she had bookmarked a handful of profiles that she checked once in a while to see if they had been updated or deleted. There were three that she found particularly promising: the first one belonged to a red-headed accountant, the second one looked handsome enough to be a model, but was working in an engineering firm and the last one, the one she found the most intriguing, belonged to a military doctor with kind blue eyes and a shy smile. John Watson seemed to be everything she was looking for, but he hadn’t logged in to the dating website since his profile had been created.
When the three Holmes left the Landmark hotel later that afternoon, Mrs Holmes knew the time had come to contact the three suitors. The endeavour would most likely take most of her time from now on and she inwardly thanked the Lord that Sherlock wasn’t interested in women or men unless they had been brutally murdered; arranging one wedding would be tiring enough, she couldn’t even imagine having to plan two. A lot of planning was indeed involved, she wanted Mycroft to be satisfied with her choice and for the resulting wedding to be perfect.
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Your grandmother sounds lovely :-)
And thanks for commenting, it means a lot, especially since I'm a big fan of yours.
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Poor Mummy indeed, can you imagine the future Christmas dinners? ;-)
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