Not Your Tea - (BBC Sherlock) Mycroft/OC, Mycroft/Lestrade - Secret Santa for @Angeleyes

[frolicking periwinkle]

Merry Happy Secrety Goodness to a wonderful writer and amazing reader.  Sometimes your comments are what keep me going @AngelEyes
Caveat - I will likely add more later, but I was writing my Masters thesis for the majority of the writing time and am currently travelling internationally to discuss my research at several universities.  So, I hope you like the beginning, and a little teaser of what's to come.  

Although the Mycroft Holmes and “Anthea” team were well known and respected throughout MI 6, there were times when Anthea had to resume her fieldwork and leave Mr. Holmes to the devices of the pool of Executive Assistants that the department kept trained and frequently working on overflow work.  He knew, of course, that this was a possibility.  It was why they kept her real name under-wraps, even when she providing assistance as his PA. 

He sighed, stepping out of an empty car and straightened his tie before he walked into the office.  Generally, by this point, he had been briefed and had his morning tea.  As it was, the calendar on his phone was the only thing that was punctual about the morning.  Usually, he relied on his phone for backup facts and calendar.  Anthea handled the rest.  But, since she had been put back into he field… he sighed.  This was going to be tiresome.

“Good morning, Mr. Holmes,” a smartly dressed Executive Assistant said, dimpling a smile at him from behind her computer screen. 

He forced a smile and blinked a few times as he was greatly annoyed already.  Of course he had received a file on her and knew all there was to know about her, including that her mother owned  little Czech pastry shop and that she had dropped out of University to become an agent for MI6.  The fact that she was an Executive Assistant was curious, but he figured that she would not be around long enough for him to care enough to read that portion of her file.  If she had the right clearance and experience to fill in for Anthea, then he would tolerate her for the time being.  “Good morning.  Where are my morning briefs?”

She snickered for a second before schooling her face to one of seriousness and handing him a folder with multi-colored tabs sticking out of it. 

The busyness of the folder set off his anxiety triggered OCD and he stared at the manila folder, nearly spilling out with paperwork. 

“It’s categorized by color and in chronological order,” she explained. 

As he walked into his office, he realized that not only had she not followed, in fact she hadn’t gotten up at all, but she didn’t set up his normal tea set.  Rolling his eyes, he stepped out to do so himself, which took up the precious little time that he had before his meeting.  Sitting at his desk, he blinked his dry eyes hard, as though they could not be rewet themselves.  He didn’t have time to think about it as he straightened his jacket and headed into his first meeting of the morning, barely prepared and ill-caffeinated.

“Heh-Eh-SHOO!”  The first sneeze rocked Mycroft forward with such surprising force, that he barely noticed it before his hitching breaths.  Used to a sneeze or two during the day, he had quickly pulled his handkerchief out of his inner pocket and sneezed into its folds.  With a dry sniff, he put his handkerchief down on his desk and kept typing, ignoring the sore, pinched feeling that was beginning to occur behind his eyes. 

Fingers flying across the keyboard so quickly that they almost created their own music, he was quickly lost back in the pathways of focus – the end points of each word, every sentence finely and deliberately crafted to result in his preferred end result. 

An audible click.

Brown eyes flicked up toward the door, which remained close.  A quick password and his laptop shut down. 

Mycroft hit a button under his desk.  The alert would go to his personal security and to his new assistant… whom he hadn’t seen since his meeting.  He would need to dictate notes to her quickly.  Although he could recall them at any time, memories were best revisited immediately in order to identify their connections.  He could review those notes later and make certain that the relevant information got to the correct departments quickly.  Deadlines at MI6 came quickly, and he needed to – “AsssehSHOO!” he sneezed, uncommonly freely. 

Bending at the waist he blushed slightly, curling his lip in disgust as he swiped at his nose, and angrily wiped off his laptop.  Disgusting. 

His assistant walked in calmly, as though she had not seen his alarm.  “Your mail,” she said, placing the still closed envelopes on his desk.

His blood ran cold.  “Did you not see my alarm?” he asked, wondering if the wiring had been cut, or was otherwise faulty. 

“Oh I did.  But, I’ve been here all day and I would have noticed if someone came in.”

His ears rang as his stress skyrocketed.  She was in no way taking his safety seriously, and although he could defend himself… Oh, how he missed Anthea already.  There was no telling when she would be back. 

“I set your tea up.  Well not your tea.  I didn’t want to go rooting around your desk.  So, I put in my favorite tea.”  She smiled again and made her way over to the kettle, pouring it into a mug already made. 

The scent was unfamiliar to Mycroft, but it wasn’t off-putting.  “Yes, do sit down.  I need you to take notes from my meeting before I go into my next one.”  He didn’t smile as she put his tea cup down directly onto his desk.  With a sniff, he glared at the ring the heat from the cup made on his wooden desk.  His nose felt ticklish all of the sudden, and he pressed the roof of his mouth with his tongue, trying to get the tickle to stop travelling up his sinuses.  His chest expanded with breath, and he brought his handkerchief back up to his nose.  “Huh-UH-HUSSSHOO!” he sneezed rather forcefully, followed by more restrained “UhhSHOO!  UssshhhhH!”  Coughing lightly at the end, he sipped his tea to wash away the tickles.

Placing the cup down quickly, he huffed out a choked breath.  “What was that?” he asked as his breath hitched erratically.  His entire right side of his neck, up through his jaw, sinuses and ear felt as though it had been besieged by some form of fuzzy cartoon monster.  “Huh-ETCCHOO!”  he sneezed violently into his rapidly dampening handkerchief.  His body rocked forward so hard that he needed to forcibly push himself backwards just as another round of hitching breaths began. 

Again, he tried to press his tongue to the roof of his mouth, but it didn’t help one bit.  “Ehhh-hhhehhh-Ekkshooo! Choo!  Heh-SHOO!  ESSHhhhhh!”  Blowing his nose more forcefully, he looked over his handkerchief at the new PA.   

“God bless you, Mr. Holmes,” the assistant said, during the lull.  “I’ve never known anyone to have such a reaction to bee pollen tea.”  She sat primely and pulled out a recording device.  “I’ll take the dictation when you’re ready and then you can just play your notes back. 

In his own mind, his allergies were the stuff of legends.  Often running himself down until he was ill, even when he was able to keep his immune system up, his histamine response to the pollenating flora in the spring often left him sounding like he had a perpetual cold from April to June.  Actually having bee pollen in his office, in the air through the steam, and now in his system.  Well it was no wonder that he was having such a response. 

“Do take another sip.  It’s good for you,” the assistant insisted politely. 

Had Mycroft had the presence of mind, he would have insisted that she take it out.  But, all he could do was push away from his desk and turn his back on both the offending tea and the ‘assistant.’  EkkESHHO!! EssshSHOO!  Ess…” He held his breath, trying to stop the punishing sneezes from ripping through his body.  His throat, his sinuses, even his nose hurt dreadfully.  Pulling in a slow breath, he thought that he had willed the allergic tickle away until, “EttssshUM!”  Again a few light coughs followed.  

He heard her bless him again, but he was through with overt niceties for the time being.  He would request a different assistant for the following day.  “Clear my schedule, I’m going home,” he insisted, ignoring the vertigo and the pounding in his head when he stood.

“Um, you have meetings that require -.”

“I don’t care.  He cut her off rudely.  To think, this country could be fallen by a woman who killed with kindness,” he said, making a personal joke as he referred to the Thomas Heywood play. 

“Well certainly you’re not dying,” she countered, likely never having seen or even read the play. 

“That remains to be seen.  Call my car.” 

She hurried out of his office and huffed when he called her back.  “And remove the tea!” he demanded as though she was a child. 

“Mr. Holmes, I do believe that once your body gets used to it, it’ll do you a world of good come spring.”

A small blush rose into his cheeks as he glared at her for her rudeness.  “I’d thank you to remove it all and not have a mite of it by the time I return to- to- tomorrow- Akssheww!” 

“Bless you, Mr. Holmes,” she said working to unplug the kettle and remove the tea. 

For reasons that Mycroft would not be able to recall one was to ask him later, he held the door open for her as she bustled.  One misplaced step on her part hand her tripping and the entire tin of loose bee pollen tea flew at him, hitting him in the face, the chest, everywhere.

She froze and then rushed out of the office with a “I’m so sorry Mr. Holmes.”

Immediately, his face began to melt… or at least that’s what it felt like.  His eyes ran and his ears felt like they were on fire.  His nose felt like someone had turned on a faucet, but he didn’t dare sniffle, lest he pull the allergen further into his body.  “Heh-eh-CHOO!  HessHHOO!  HESSHOO! At-CHOO!”  he sneezed, violently.  Unable to get to his handkerchief, the only thing that he could do was sneeze into his elbow, which did more harm than good as his suit was practically coated in the tea.  “Hetch-SHOO EssSHOO!  Ahah-eheh-At-SHOO!”

Clumsy fingers fumbled with the buttons of his suit jacket as he went to take it off.  He unabashedly let it fall to the floor wondering what Gregory would think of such an uncharacteristic action. 

-

By the time he got home, his sneezes were violent but dry.  He was dehydrated, and his eyes felt as though they were on fire.  He nearly stumbled into the house when the door opened. Once again, the troublesome assistant did not ride in the car with him.  So, he could only smile when Gregory opened the door. 

“Gregory,” he breathed, happily.  He was about to ask how the man got off of work, but was forced to take out his all but useless handkerchief and sneeze harshly.  “Ah-SHOO! EeegTISHoo!  EgnnTSHOO!”

When Gregory had received an email – of all things – from the temporary assistant that Mycroft was having an extreme allergic reaction and was being taken home, Greg didn’t quite know what to expect.  His love looked awful.  His nose was chapped and the area around his eyes and nose were sunken and red.  The area around his mouth was slightly tinged green, which Gregory had learned to understand as a sign that Mycroft’s stomach was askew. 

“All right, love.  Up to the shower with you.  Then I’ll give you some tea, meds, and an ice mask.  He watched Mycroft go, “Keh-Tchoo!”ing all the way.  He dipped into Mycroft’s emergency kit and pulled out his inhaler and topical antihistamine.  It was going to be a long night, and likely downright painful for Mycroft.  But, he would do what he could to make the hurt go away. And text Anthea at her emergency number the next day to see if there was anything he could arrest the suspiciously exasperating assistant for.

 

[AngelEyes]

OMG OMG OMG!!!!!!!! When I saw you were my Secret Santa I definitely yelped out loud! I adore your work! And you wrote me Mycroft! And then I read it, and it's amazing! I love it! Poor Mycroft! Having to deal with someone who is Not Anthea! So not ok! And what a snot! She clearly doesn't know her place with The British Government! Dear Gregory is in for a long night I fear, but he's totally up to the task.

3 hours ago, frenchposie said:

Anthea handled the rest.  But, since she had been put back into he field… he sighed.  This was going to be tiresome.

Oh dear. Not a good start.

 

3 hours ago, frenchposie said:

He didn’t have time to think about it as he straightened his jacket and headed into his first meeting of the morning, barely prepared and ill-caffeinated.

I really like this.

 

3 hours ago, frenchposie said:

“Oh I did.  But, I’ve been here all day and I would have noticed if someone came in.”

How presumptuous!

 

3 hours ago, frenchposie said:

In his own mind, his allergies were the stuff of legends.

Indeed!

 

3 hours ago, frenchposie said:

“Well certainly you’re not dying,” she countered, likely never having seen or even read the play. 

Rude!!!

 

3 hours ago, frenchposie said:

When Gregory had received an email – of all things – from the temporary assistant that Mycroft was having an extreme allergic reaction and was being taken home, Greg didn’t quite know what to expect. 

Well, at least she did that...

 

3 hours ago, frenchposie said:

And text Anthea at her emergency number the next day to see if there was anything he could arrest the suspiciously exasperating assistant for.

Go Greg! And knowing Anthea, she'll be just as livid, and actually come up with something!

Thank you so much for this! I totally love it!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Oh delightful! That assistant is an absolute menace and I would not be surprised she turned out to be a foreign agent. Poor Mycroft! 

I particularly loved the imagery this line provided. 

On 1/2/2019 at 4:00 PM, frenchposie said:

“All right, love.  Up to the shower with you.  Then I’ll give you some tea, meds, and an ice mask.  He watched Mycroft go, “Keh-Tchoo!”ing all the way. 

I hope Greg can set Mycroft to rights soon, but not too soon.  

[AntheaHolmes]

Oh my. This is amazing. Firstly, only Anthea can be Mycroft's PA and secondly....gosh, all these amazing allergy Sneezes are to die for. I love allergic Mycroft so much. Would love to see him sneeze in the series. Sadly, we never got that. Really enjoyed reading this story. Greg is also an adorable husband! Mystrade forever!