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Lady Elizabeth Smallwood taps at Mycroft’s office day and waits.
“Come in Elizabeth.” Mycroft calls out after a moment.
“How did you know it was me?” She enters, her low heels clicking softly on the polished floor. She takes a seat in front of his desk.
“I see I am not the only one burning the… half past 5am… oil.” He purposely ignores the question.
“Actually, I’m just coming in. You on the other hand have not left. Nor have you checked the local morning news feeds yet.” Fastidious as always, she crossed a leg and then rearranged her skirt hem that it lay just so.
“The point Eliza, can we get to it?” He raised a brow knowing he was being baited.
“The news, watch it – you’ll know when you see it.” Her face was as impassive as his, but there was the tiniest hint of humor around her eye. Peripherally he saw a text flash on his mobile.
-- BBC1 watch it now. A.
Anthea has awakened, seen the news and texted. He knows this is going to be interesting.
-- Watching it. MH
The channel always played on his laptop, he immediately maximized the window on his laptop, started watching the broadcast and inwardly groaned.
Every holiday season a Winter Wonderland is created in the Gardens. Food trucks, open bazaars, ice sculptures are carved, a plethora of winter related games and activities for town and sundry. As always on opening eve there is a tree lighting ceremony. This year opening eve also fell on the first night of Hanukkah and a menorah lighting ceremony kicked things off. The ice sculptors had joined together on a theme this year. Each worked on an individual piece. The end result looking like a life size family of Victorian carolers. It was lovely. Apparently, last night someone snuck onto the premises and added a new member to the party. It was this new addition, also carved of ice, which captured Mycroft’s attention and ire.
This new ice member was tall, well-dressed in striped suit and waistcoat. He was clearly a Scrooge type and much kudos to the artist for the level of detailing. It looked for all the world this Ice Scrooge, walking towards the carolers, umbrella pointed at them, was giving them a piece of his miserly mind. That Ice Scrooge happened to favor a certain minor government official was just pure coincidence, of course.
“A play on The Iceman Cometh and A Christmas Carol. The man begs to be throttled!” Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose.
Lady Smallwood has worked with Mycroft Holmes for over a score. She can make out the slight tells of her colleague’s true amusement at his baby brother’s latest antics in spite of his annoyed expression.
Seeing Mycroft’s reaction, Elizabeth grins, rising gracefully from her seat, turning at the door as she leaves, “I now feel obliged to remind you that fratricide, however justified, is still frowned upon. You know - one of those law things here in London and pretty much globally. Happy Christmas Mycroft.”
“Bah humbug." Mycroft deadpanned, enjoying Elizabeth’s look of surprise as the door closed.