View from Above 4: The Fangirls Strike Back
Fourth in the series of my 'View from Above' SHAM series. You can find One, Two and Three at these links.
Title: View from Above 4: The Fangirls Strike Back
Beta: flawedamythyst
Rating: PG13
Length: 850 words
Characters: Mycroft and a few very nice, very insane fangirls
Summary: By now watching SHAM has become a habit of Mycroft’s. A habit he is about to regret.
By the time ‘SHAM’ - The Sherlock Holmes Anniversary Meetup - rolled around for the fourth time, Mycroft was beginning to find himself very accustomed to the group.
There was hat girl again, the one who had had her bag stolen. And the woman with the hair who organised the message for his brother. And that pair who got engaged the year before. All of their dossiers were very familiar to him. Most of the time they hadn’t even been compiled by his department but by Counter Terrorism Command who had been concerned about the collection of terms found in their various internet search histories. Hat girl in particular had raised a few red flags. But once Mycroft had confirmed that they were his brother’s fans and therefore less likely to plot a terrorist threat than an alarming piece of erotic fiction then he was able to make a collection of all the files and keep them in his own special storage.
He made certain to take note of any newcomers to the group so he could gather their files as well and keep his collection up to date.
By now monitoring of the group as they went about their walk through London, pub lunch and museum visit was a matter of routine - the date was neatly marked on the office wall chart and the schedule devised to keep a rolling rota. It was just a matter of course really; he wasn’t expecting anything extraordinary to happen. As he had told the anti-terrorism department, they were all rather harmless.
Or so he thought, until the group hit the pubs at the end of the day.
He had just gotten off a phone call with his contact in the Moldovan Embassy when he noticed that the scene on the live feed had gotten a little more… raucous. The group were in their second pub, the first having closed earlier than they clearly would have liked, and by the looks of it had started on the tequila, which was never a good sign. They all appeared to have pieces of Rizla paper stuck to their heads which seemed to be causing a great deal of mirth for some reason. The scene seemed strangely familiar but it wasn’t until the pub closed and he watched the group move onto yet another bar, when one of his street microphones caught a snatch of conversation that he realised where he recognised it from.
“I know ash!”
The stag night tape. The one of Sherlock being spectacularly drunk. The one he had secured in a locked cabinet with enough measures that even Sherlock wouldn’t be able to get in. The one he had been planning on holding on to for blackmail purposes. The one he had had all records of wiped. The one which only he and his assistant knew about.
There was only one way Sherlock’s fans could possibly know about it.
“Miss Peel,” he said into his intercom, “when you’ve finished the Odesa report would you come and see me please.”
The next bar the group went to had microphones so he was able to listen in on the conversation. However, it did not take long for him to realise that may not have been such a good thing. And yet the longer the group played ‘Never Have I Ever’ the more he found himself unable to turn the sound off. Instead, by the time Miss Peel joined him he was staring at his screen, eyes wide in complete horror.
“Mr Holmes?” she said just as the microphones picked up,
“Never have I ever… er… thought about Mycroft while touching myself.”
Two of them drank.
“Mr Holmes?”
Two of them.
“Mr Holmes?”
Two? He didn’t know whether he was intrigued, appalled or disappointed.
“Mr Holmes, you wanted to talk to me?”
“Oh,” he said, tearing his eyes away. “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Miss Peel, could you perhaps explain to me how some young women-“
“Never have I ever read Holmescest.”
Holmescest? Holmes obviously referred to either himself or his brother but cest… it couldn’t possibly be… no. Incest?
Good god.
He was not going to look. He did not want to know. No. He didn’t. Not in the least.
“Mr Holmes?”
“Miss Peel-“
“Does it count if they’re sharing John?”
Oh good lord.
“Should I come back later, Mr Holmes?”
She was biting her lip, as if she truly believed it would hide the smile blossoming over her face.
He had to clear his throat again before he could get out a clear word.
“Perhaps,” he said, the smile on her face released into a full grin when it came out croakier than usual. “I think so, yes.”
As she ducked out of the room he heard her cackling in the corridor before the door shut. He turned back to the screen as the debate raged on.
Perhaps he would leave them to get home unmonitored for once, he thought. Obviously they were far more likely to do harm to others than anyone was to harm them.
A/N: I realise this may not be the best place to ask this but what do people think about me posting these on AO3? I'm not very keen on non-fic on AO3 myself and these are sort of half fiction half report so I'm not sure whether they count or not. Let me know your opinion in the comments.
Title: View from Above 4: The Fangirls Strike Back
Beta: flawedamythyst
Rating: PG13
Length: 850 words
Characters: Mycroft and a few very nice, very insane fangirls
Summary: By now watching SHAM has become a habit of Mycroft’s. A habit he is about to regret.
By the time ‘SHAM’ - The Sherlock Holmes Anniversary Meetup - rolled around for the fourth time, Mycroft was beginning to find himself very accustomed to the group.
There was hat girl again, the one who had had her bag stolen. And the woman with the hair who organised the message for his brother. And that pair who got engaged the year before. All of their dossiers were very familiar to him. Most of the time they hadn’t even been compiled by his department but by Counter Terrorism Command who had been concerned about the collection of terms found in their various internet search histories. Hat girl in particular had raised a few red flags. But once Mycroft had confirmed that they were his brother’s fans and therefore less likely to plot a terrorist threat than an alarming piece of erotic fiction then he was able to make a collection of all the files and keep them in his own special storage.
He made certain to take note of any newcomers to the group so he could gather their files as well and keep his collection up to date.
By now monitoring of the group as they went about their walk through London, pub lunch and museum visit was a matter of routine - the date was neatly marked on the office wall chart and the schedule devised to keep a rolling rota. It was just a matter of course really; he wasn’t expecting anything extraordinary to happen. As he had told the anti-terrorism department, they were all rather harmless.
Or so he thought, until the group hit the pubs at the end of the day.
He had just gotten off a phone call with his contact in the Moldovan Embassy when he noticed that the scene on the live feed had gotten a little more… raucous. The group were in their second pub, the first having closed earlier than they clearly would have liked, and by the looks of it had started on the tequila, which was never a good sign. They all appeared to have pieces of Rizla paper stuck to their heads which seemed to be causing a great deal of mirth for some reason. The scene seemed strangely familiar but it wasn’t until the pub closed and he watched the group move onto yet another bar, when one of his street microphones caught a snatch of conversation that he realised where he recognised it from.
“I know ash!”
The stag night tape. The one of Sherlock being spectacularly drunk. The one he had secured in a locked cabinet with enough measures that even Sherlock wouldn’t be able to get in. The one he had been planning on holding on to for blackmail purposes. The one he had had all records of wiped. The one which only he and his assistant knew about.
There was only one way Sherlock’s fans could possibly know about it.
“Miss Peel,” he said into his intercom, “when you’ve finished the Odesa report would you come and see me please.”
The next bar the group went to had microphones so he was able to listen in on the conversation. However, it did not take long for him to realise that may not have been such a good thing. And yet the longer the group played ‘Never Have I Ever’ the more he found himself unable to turn the sound off. Instead, by the time Miss Peel joined him he was staring at his screen, eyes wide in complete horror.
“Mr Holmes?” she said just as the microphones picked up,
“Never have I ever… er… thought about Mycroft while touching myself.”
Two of them drank.
“Mr Holmes?”
Two of them.
“Mr Holmes?”
Two? He didn’t know whether he was intrigued, appalled or disappointed.
“Mr Holmes, you wanted to talk to me?”
“Oh,” he said, tearing his eyes away. “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Miss Peel, could you perhaps explain to me how some young women-“
“Never have I ever read Holmescest.”
Holmescest? Holmes obviously referred to either himself or his brother but cest… it couldn’t possibly be… no. Incest?
Good god.
He was not going to look. He did not want to know. No. He didn’t. Not in the least.
“Mr Holmes?”
“Miss Peel-“
“Does it count if they’re sharing John?”
Oh good lord.
“Should I come back later, Mr Holmes?”
She was biting her lip, as if she truly believed it would hide the smile blossoming over her face.
He had to clear his throat again before he could get out a clear word.
“Perhaps,” he said, the smile on her face released into a full grin when it came out croakier than usual. “I think so, yes.”
As she ducked out of the room he heard her cackling in the corridor before the door shut. He turned back to the screen as the debate raged on.
Perhaps he would leave them to get home unmonitored for once, he thought. Obviously they were far more likely to do harm to others than anyone was to harm them.
A/N: I realise this may not be the best place to ask this but what do people think about me posting these on AO3? I'm not very keen on non-fic on AO3 myself and these are sort of half fiction half report so I'm not sure whether they count or not. Let me know your opinion in the comments.