Mystrade Drabbles

[frolicking periwinkle]

Just a few drabbles. Let me know if you'd like any expanded.  

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It felt as though midges had taken up residence in his sinuses and it could not have  happened at a worse time.  Mycroft’s breath hitched, and he pressed the back of his hand against his nose. Sweat gathered at his brow and he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it as tightly as he could around his nose and mouth.  He swallowed, and attempted to finish changing before.

HetcchhhhSHOOO!

The violence of the sneeze caused him to propel forward in the tiny airplane restroom.

“You all right?” Greg asked as Mycroft returned to their seats.  He knew better than to tell Mycroft that his sneeze had not only been heard, that had startled most of the 1^st class cabin. He couldn’t tell if the red blotch on his love’s forehead was caused by hitting his head or due to the humiliated flush that continued from his hairline to under his collar. 

“Mm.”

[frolicking periwinkle]

No. 

No. No. No. No... please not here. Greg thought this mantra as loud as he could.  He knew that Mycroft had an amazing amount of control over his body. But, the perfume of the woman sitting in the box with them was cloyingly overwhelming.  

He'd noticed Mycroft's voice become congested almost immediately.  They were most of the way through the first act, the soprano stalking off the stage, when he heard the first sniffle.  Greg took Mycroft's hand, and Mycroft gripped on. 

Greg heard a deep breath and felt his hand be squeezed.  The tenor started singing as Mycroft removed his handkerchief and pressed it over his nose and mouth. Mycroft twitched instead of hitching his breath. Greg knew the end was near.  Even Mycroft could only hold out so long. 

"Issh! Ishh!! ISSH!!!" 

A few people blessed him, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Heh eh eh Heeehhh HeaaSCHOOO!" The sneeze denoted out of him, wet and violent, forcing him to blow his nose. 

Whether the silence in the room was deafening or that the sneeze was so violent that it reset his system, he didn't know.  He'd never share a box again. Getting up, he made his way to the restroom and closed his eyes, trying to gather his breath before returning.  

[frolicking periwinkle]

“No, absolutely not.”

Mycroft looked up from the reports he was analyzing as the alert light in his office went off insinuating that here had been a security breach and he was to hide immediately under threat of imminent danger.  He pushed his chair out slowly, careful not to make any noise and removed himself to his panic room.

Meanwhile on the other side of the door…

“Heh-snnnhhhhhhooo!” Sherlock sneezed into a tissue before shoving it into his pocket.

Athena looked up from her work, brown eyes raking over him like finely tuned sensors. 

“I’d like to see my brother,” Sherlock demanded before raising the tissues back to his face and bending over with a, “KesssHHHOO!  Hesssttchhhoo!”

“No, absolutely not,” she replied forcefully as she realized that he was ill, and – if he was anything like his brother – highly contagious. She touched the panic button on her phone which would both alert Mr. Holmes to hide and bring up a non-emergency security team.

“You’re not my brother’s keeper,” he drawled at her. Eyes flickering with emotions passing through them like automobiles on the expressway.

“But, I am to keep him safe from threatening situations. And that sneeze in his nose is a threat to national security.”

“Quite right.” Sherlock smirked as the security team arrived.  Turning towards them, he let out two more violent sneezes, hands obviously at his sides. 

The team made faces of distaste, but escorted him out.  He went without a fight. Athena sighed and contacted their supervisor to enact two weeks of forced leave.  The Summit was approaching and their teams simply could not be ill.