Getting To Know You 5/12
2010
Personal files were kept rather strictly. There were obviously electronic versions but the personal files, the family files, the files which contained rather a lot of information on Mycroft’s more privy obsessions were kept by hand and at hand. She had shadowed her predecessor in post for a good 3 months before even being given the knowledge that they existed. It had been another three months before she had been given access (and gosh what a read that had been!). She had eventually been allowed to update the files. These updates usually took the form of summarizing Sherlock’s latest mis-adventure as relayed either via surveillance or a conversation with Mycroft over tea as he relayed Lestrade’s latest report.
During her time in post she had reached certain conclusions. Mr Holmes was very concerned with the well-being of his brother. That was a given, he consistently deployed his not inconsiderable resources to assisting him out of potential bother. But Mycroft Holmes also rather enjoyed dealing with DI Lestrade and devoted rather more time to fitting in meetings with the DI than was efficient. And Mr Holmes prized efficiency of effort above all things. Given what Anthea knew about Mycroft’s recreational choices, this dedication to meeting the Detective was also indicative. However Mr Holmes generally preferred to keep the different elements of his work and life clearly separated. DI Lestrade seemed firmly placed within the file marked Sherlock.
Her predecessor Mrs B had once briefly alluded to Mr Holmes’ past, an affaire that had ended with the unfortunate death of the man concerned. How he had died, why he had died, and who had been held responsible was not mentioned. However he clearly had made a mark and Mrs B was quite certain that Mr Holmes never repeated mistakes.
The first evidence of a change came over tea and biscuits. It was 11.00pm and the relentless day had finally been put to bed by H in his own inestimable fashion. He had dismissed everyone with calm thanks but requested a final cup of tea in order to relax a little and gloat. Anthea always enjoyed these sessions. It was worth putting the Blackberry down if only to ply the man with tea.
Mycroft quietly explained the really very simple insight that had allowed him to finesse the situation rather brilliantly. Anthea glowed with the knowledge.
Sherlock’s file was still out on the desk. Mr Holmes had met Lestrade two days ago but there had been no time to amend it and it had lain unforgivably forgotten on the desk, for the whole period. Admittedly H had been in the office for most of that time except for briefings and the trip to the basement. But still, she should have noticed and removed it to the secure filing.
“I knew it was there” said Mr Holmes.
“I do apologise Sir”
“No matter.” He reached over and flicked through the file, there were some new photos from surveillance she saw. Sherlock and Lestrade arguing on some waste ground. They appeared to be having a tug of war over a scarf. Sherlock looked imperious as always and Lestrade looked like he was about to brain him. She giggled.
“Sherlock announced to the world that the scarf was the key to everything then tried to run off with it, hotly pursued by Lestrade and half the Yard. They solved it of course. Just not without some bruising” Mycroft held one photo in particular and studied it. It was a rather good one of Lestrade.
Michael in surveillance had a clear understanding of his team’s priorities when detailed on these private matters. The better photos of Lestrade tended to be high resolution, on good paper. This one though was also printed out 12x7.
The photograph captured Lestrade with one arm aloft holding the scarf above his head like a battle flag. The other arm outstretched holding off a very peeved Sherlock. Sherlock was clearly cast as the villain of the piece and was also apparently standing in a hole. Lestrade dominated the photo, face and body singing strength and purpose in every line and fold. He looked magnificent.
“I take it there is a book” said Mycroft.
“Sir?”
“On Lestrade”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know Sir”
“Shame I wouldn’t mind a side bet”
“That would hardly be fair Sir, if indeed Security had a book open on the matter”
“Really? I disagree. It would only be unfair if I was able to influence the outcome in some way. And frankly the ball is most definitely in his court on this one”
“Does he know that Sir?”
“Probably not”
“You could give him a little push don’t you think?”
“It’s often better simply to let the game play out as it will rather than to interfere too much. He is quite sheltered at the moment. He is admittedly exposed by his connection to Sherlock and indeed me but he is on the side lines. He would not be the first choice of target if someone were to tilt for me. And Sherlock is no one’s idea of easy prey. How long would that shelter last do you think if I were to invite Lestrade even to dine with me? How quickly would we have to move to constrict and constrain his life just to protect him? There are no rules for the game any more. He has to choose to play.”
Mr Holmes looked once more at the photograph. Brave soldier on the battlefield, holding the flag safe above the fray. He smiled.
“I’m surprised they didn’t wait for Secret Santa and present it framed”
“They’re still hoping to get a decent lens on him with his shirt off or at least wet through”. Her reward was a burst of Mycroft’s happier laughter.
Personal files were kept rather strictly. There were obviously electronic versions but the personal files, the family files, the files which contained rather a lot of information on Mycroft’s more privy obsessions were kept by hand and at hand. She had shadowed her predecessor in post for a good 3 months before even being given the knowledge that they existed. It had been another three months before she had been given access (and gosh what a read that had been!). She had eventually been allowed to update the files. These updates usually took the form of summarizing Sherlock’s latest mis-adventure as relayed either via surveillance or a conversation with Mycroft over tea as he relayed Lestrade’s latest report.
During her time in post she had reached certain conclusions. Mr Holmes was very concerned with the well-being of his brother. That was a given, he consistently deployed his not inconsiderable resources to assisting him out of potential bother. But Mycroft Holmes also rather enjoyed dealing with DI Lestrade and devoted rather more time to fitting in meetings with the DI than was efficient. And Mr Holmes prized efficiency of effort above all things. Given what Anthea knew about Mycroft’s recreational choices, this dedication to meeting the Detective was also indicative. However Mr Holmes generally preferred to keep the different elements of his work and life clearly separated. DI Lestrade seemed firmly placed within the file marked Sherlock.
Her predecessor Mrs B had once briefly alluded to Mr Holmes’ past, an affaire that had ended with the unfortunate death of the man concerned. How he had died, why he had died, and who had been held responsible was not mentioned. However he clearly had made a mark and Mrs B was quite certain that Mr Holmes never repeated mistakes.
The first evidence of a change came over tea and biscuits. It was 11.00pm and the relentless day had finally been put to bed by H in his own inestimable fashion. He had dismissed everyone with calm thanks but requested a final cup of tea in order to relax a little and gloat. Anthea always enjoyed these sessions. It was worth putting the Blackberry down if only to ply the man with tea.
Mycroft quietly explained the really very simple insight that had allowed him to finesse the situation rather brilliantly. Anthea glowed with the knowledge.
Sherlock’s file was still out on the desk. Mr Holmes had met Lestrade two days ago but there had been no time to amend it and it had lain unforgivably forgotten on the desk, for the whole period. Admittedly H had been in the office for most of that time except for briefings and the trip to the basement. But still, she should have noticed and removed it to the secure filing.
“I knew it was there” said Mr Holmes.
“I do apologise Sir”
“No matter.” He reached over and flicked through the file, there were some new photos from surveillance she saw. Sherlock and Lestrade arguing on some waste ground. They appeared to be having a tug of war over a scarf. Sherlock looked imperious as always and Lestrade looked like he was about to brain him. She giggled.
“Sherlock announced to the world that the scarf was the key to everything then tried to run off with it, hotly pursued by Lestrade and half the Yard. They solved it of course. Just not without some bruising” Mycroft held one photo in particular and studied it. It was a rather good one of Lestrade.
Michael in surveillance had a clear understanding of his team’s priorities when detailed on these private matters. The better photos of Lestrade tended to be high resolution, on good paper. This one though was also printed out 12x7.
The photograph captured Lestrade with one arm aloft holding the scarf above his head like a battle flag. The other arm outstretched holding off a very peeved Sherlock. Sherlock was clearly cast as the villain of the piece and was also apparently standing in a hole. Lestrade dominated the photo, face and body singing strength and purpose in every line and fold. He looked magnificent.
“I take it there is a book” said Mycroft.
“Sir?”
“On Lestrade”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know Sir”
“Shame I wouldn’t mind a side bet”
“That would hardly be fair Sir, if indeed Security had a book open on the matter”
“Really? I disagree. It would only be unfair if I was able to influence the outcome in some way. And frankly the ball is most definitely in his court on this one”
“Does he know that Sir?”
“Probably not”
“You could give him a little push don’t you think?”
“It’s often better simply to let the game play out as it will rather than to interfere too much. He is quite sheltered at the moment. He is admittedly exposed by his connection to Sherlock and indeed me but he is on the side lines. He would not be the first choice of target if someone were to tilt for me. And Sherlock is no one’s idea of easy prey. How long would that shelter last do you think if I were to invite Lestrade even to dine with me? How quickly would we have to move to constrict and constrain his life just to protect him? There are no rules for the game any more. He has to choose to play.”
Mr Holmes looked once more at the photograph. Brave soldier on the battlefield, holding the flag safe above the fray. He smiled.
“I’m surprised they didn’t wait for Secret Santa and present it framed”
“They’re still hoping to get a decent lens on him with his shirt off or at least wet through”. Her reward was a burst of Mycroft’s happier laughter.