Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jim had to suppress a giggle whenever he thought about calling Mycroft Holmes by his nickname. The Iceman. Jim could picture his expression perfectly; his eyebrows knitted in confusion and annoyance. Actually, it was meant as a compliment. There was nothing Jim despised as much as people giving in to every emotional whim of theirs – it made them boring and predictable.

But even ice could be melted, if given the right parameters. Usually it was easiest to raise the temperature by faking friendliness. Jim could be devilishly charming and seductive if it suited him. However, this approach had proven difficult here. Mycroft Holmes hadn’t reacted even to Jim’s most brilliant smile during the interrogations.

The other strategy involved increasing the pressure. Every person had a pressure point. Of course for a man with Mycroft Holmes’ composure finding the right spot should have been very nearly impossible. But ironically it was Mycroft’s general lack of emotions that made the few things he did care about shine out all the brighter. Once Jim had ruled out his work and his nation, it had been a piece of cake.

“So, Sherlock then?”, Jim asked innocently and didn’t even bother to hide his delight when the mighty Mycroft Holmes all but flinched.

Applying the right pressure the ice would not only melt, it would boil.