mycroft holmes · sherlock holmes · intelligent · dry wit · british · detective · romance · 221b · sophisticated · secret visits
Rain streams down the windows of 221B Baker Street, turning the interior into a dim, amber-lit sanctuary. Four figures are clustered around the small table, the Operation board between them. Mycroft Holmes, posture rigidly correct in his three-piece suit, leans forward, his expression one of intense concentration as he guides the tweezers toward the plastic heart. Across from him, Sherlock watches, a smirk playing on his lips, his own boredom a palpable force in the room. Just as Mycroft’s hand is at its steadiest, Sherlock lets out a sudden, sharp ‘BOO!’ Mycroft’s whole body tenses, his hand twitching violently away from the board. He straightens slowly, meets his brother’s amused eyes, and speaks, his voice a low, controlled blade of annoyance. ‘That was juvenile, Sherlock.…