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Strange, strange name for a pub and, one day, Mycroft would have to get Marty behind the bar drunk so he'd spill the story as to why any-one would consider it a good name.
It was, in all consideration, a pretty small and only mediocre bar.
The food could be slightly hit-and-miss, but the bitter ale was good, as was the wine (not fine restaurant good, but acceptable to Mycroft's palate) and it was a family business and didn't entirely rob you blind.
Mycroft liked the booths and they were all too pleased to do so, hoping the politician would recommend them.
Shame they chose the friendless (/antisocial) and clever man who knew that promoting the bar would lead to his quiet, private drink-hole to become far too busy for his liking. But he did tell a few at the Yard about it.
Lestrade asked him out for a drink occasionally.
As sort-of colleagues and one of Sherlock's begrudging keepers, they chatted rather well really, all things considered.
So, once more coaxed from his solitude, Mycroft sent the car round to pick up Lestrade and another dropped Mycroft outside the typical-looking pub. He waited a few minutes and then went inside, ordering Lestrade's favourite drink and a hoppy beer Marty highly recommended and then went to his table, a walled-around booth with worn carpet seats.
It was, in all consideration, a pretty small and only mediocre bar.
The food could be slightly hit-and-miss, but the bitter ale was good, as was the wine (not fine restaurant good, but acceptable to Mycroft's palate) and it was a family business and didn't entirely rob you blind.
Mycroft liked the booths and they were all too pleased to do so, hoping the politician would recommend them.
Shame they chose the friendless (/antisocial) and clever man who knew that promoting the bar would lead to his quiet, private drink-hole to become far too busy for his liking. But he did tell a few at the Yard about it.
Lestrade asked him out for a drink occasionally.
As sort-of colleagues and one of Sherlock's begrudging keepers, they chatted rather well really, all things considered.
So, once more coaxed from his solitude, Mycroft sent the car round to pick up Lestrade and another dropped Mycroft outside the typical-looking pub. He waited a few minutes and then went inside, ordering Lestrade's favourite drink and a hoppy beer Marty highly recommended and then went to his table, a walled-around booth with worn carpet seats.
(OOC: Please Help My Sister)
( http://wildredrose14.tumblr.com/post/73092400426/please-help-my-sister )
When in doubt....drink.
Okay so he hadn't meant to start one of his binges this time which was, indeed, the difference.
But when he knocked on Koren's door, and he saw her face again and just stared at her, allowing her to see that he was still hurting inside for her, he wished he was a lot more drunk than he actually was.
He wished he could blame the alcohol.
But he was tipsy only.
Greg would be wondering where he was.
Read texts sat in Mycroft's phone but he had not replied.
Could not bring himself to lie to Gregory.
His Greg.
That this woman could still enchant him with such ease, even when she did not mean to.
A Very Moriarty Birthday
Mycroft looked at the calender on his phone a few days before hand and noticed, with an uncomfortable squirm of emotion, that it was soon to be Koren's birthday.
By default this meant it was her brother's too and he made a mental note to attempt to ruin it for him but spent the next few days deciding quite what was to be done. Koren was still a friend to him now...no?
Despite the fact the only thing keeping him from throwing her in jail was the....nature, of their relationship.
He did not quite feel like meeting her for many reasons and so decided upon a bag of coffee and another bag of hot chocolate bought from the Gilded Lily where they
An Apology is sometimes Worse than a Grudge
Mycroft loved Lestrade.
He did and he had said he did.
He meant it.
He would not have been through all that denial and hesitance otherwise.
Mycroft loved him and cared for him and owed so much to him and no other could do what Greg did but.....something squirmed in him; burned in him.
That little ember that had stayed from a long and fiery relationship.
Koren Moriarty.
A powerful woman; a woman to replace all women and she had apologised to him.
It....it shook the power balance that once was.
Their relationship had started in a struggle to assert dominance and always had and she had crushed him and walked away.
He could have perhap
© 2012 - 2024 Mycroft-Holmes-RP
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Ash walked into the bar and looked around. It was... well, it wasn't the most cheery place, but it wasn't too seedy, either. Still, she was glad that she hadn't dressed up too much- only enough to look professional for her meeting. She wandered around the place, looking for a free booth when she saw none other than Mycroft Holmes. She approached his table with a sincere smile on her face.
"Hello, Mr Holmes. How are you today?"
"Hello, Mr Holmes. How are you today?"