(no subject)
Nov. 3rd, 2013 09:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ellerkayTitle: Keepers
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals and Sherlock
Category: Gen
Characters: Elijah Mikaelson and Mycroft Holmes
Rating: PG-13ish for reference to murders
Wordcount: 600
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Summary: Mycroft approaches Elijah in a café, requesting his help.
“Mr. Mikaelson?”
Elijah looked up from his book, placing a finger in it to hold his place. He took in the man standing in front of him; forties, high hairline, holding an umbrella, even though it wasn’t raining. It was one of those very rare days in London, in fact, when no rain was forecast. Perhaps the man carried it out of habit, or as some sort of security blanket.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Elijah said.
“My name is Holmes. Mycroft Holmes. I’m here to talk about your brother.”
Elijah sighed and reluctantly put a bookmark in the novel, placing it on the café table in front of him, safely to the side of his cup of tea.
“Please, sit down,” he said, gesturing.
“Thank you.” Mycroft sat, resting the umbrella on the wall next to him. He leaned his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers, gazing at Elijah. “Are you aware of how many people he’s killed since his arrival in London a few weeks ago?”
“No.”
“At least ten. And those are only the ones we’ve been able to track.”
Elijah’s jaw tightened, but he gave no further outward signs of his anger. “I see.” A look somewhere between rueful and regretful passed over his features. “I’m sure it won’t mean much to you, but I am sincerely sorry for Niklaus’ behavior.”
“The sentiment is appreciated, but I’m afraid it doesn’t help us.”
“And you represent…?” Elijah lifted an eyebrow as he lifted his teacup, taking a small sip.
Mycroft gestured dismissively. “I hold a minor position in the British government. From time to time, I am granted or take upon myself certain…specialized responsibilities.”
Elijah gave a small smile. “I see.” He put down the cup. “How did you know who I am?”
“We have certain files on you and your family, from your last visit to London. They included several early daguerreotypes. And indicated that you were the most, shall we say, approachable, of your brothers and sisters.”
“I suppose I am.” Elijah frowned into his teacup. “But I’m afraid I can’t help you. I’ve resolved to stop trying to bring my brother to heel.”
“You were seen with him two nights ago.”
“It’s a very new resolution. But one I am determined to keep.” Elijah sighed. “It’s quite frustrating, Mr. Holmes, being saddled with a troublesome younger brother. All my considerable efforts have been for naught.” He raised his eyes to Mycroft’s face again, and was surprised to see a slight smile there.
“It’s a position I can sympathize with,” Mycroft said. “There are times when I want to leave my own wayward younger brother to his own devices.”
“I’m glad you understand my position,” Elijah said. He signaled to the waiter for the check.
Mycroft was silent for a moment. When he finally spoke, it was in a slightly softer tone. “I admire your resolve,” he said. “I have been tempted to abandon Sherlock. There were many instances when it would have been easier, and perhaps even advisable, to do so. But I have never quite found myself able. He is, after all, family.”
Elijah’s expression was guarded, and he didn’t reply. Mycroft rose, extending a hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Mikaelson,” he said. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
When he was gone, Elijah sat back in his chair, the lines of his mouth showing his displeasure. Removing his cell phone from his breast pocket, he stared at it for a long time before finally, decisively, dialing a number.
“Niklaus,” he said, when his younger brother picked up. “We need to talk.”
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals and Sherlock
Category: Gen
Characters: Elijah Mikaelson and Mycroft Holmes
Rating: PG-13ish for reference to murders
Wordcount: 600
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Summary: Mycroft approaches Elijah in a café, requesting his help.
“Mr. Mikaelson?”
Elijah looked up from his book, placing a finger in it to hold his place. He took in the man standing in front of him; forties, high hairline, holding an umbrella, even though it wasn’t raining. It was one of those very rare days in London, in fact, when no rain was forecast. Perhaps the man carried it out of habit, or as some sort of security blanket.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Elijah said.
“My name is Holmes. Mycroft Holmes. I’m here to talk about your brother.”
Elijah sighed and reluctantly put a bookmark in the novel, placing it on the café table in front of him, safely to the side of his cup of tea.
“Please, sit down,” he said, gesturing.
“Thank you.” Mycroft sat, resting the umbrella on the wall next to him. He leaned his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers, gazing at Elijah. “Are you aware of how many people he’s killed since his arrival in London a few weeks ago?”
“No.”
“At least ten. And those are only the ones we’ve been able to track.”
Elijah’s jaw tightened, but he gave no further outward signs of his anger. “I see.” A look somewhere between rueful and regretful passed over his features. “I’m sure it won’t mean much to you, but I am sincerely sorry for Niklaus’ behavior.”
“The sentiment is appreciated, but I’m afraid it doesn’t help us.”
“And you represent…?” Elijah lifted an eyebrow as he lifted his teacup, taking a small sip.
Mycroft gestured dismissively. “I hold a minor position in the British government. From time to time, I am granted or take upon myself certain…specialized responsibilities.”
Elijah gave a small smile. “I see.” He put down the cup. “How did you know who I am?”
“We have certain files on you and your family, from your last visit to London. They included several early daguerreotypes. And indicated that you were the most, shall we say, approachable, of your brothers and sisters.”
“I suppose I am.” Elijah frowned into his teacup. “But I’m afraid I can’t help you. I’ve resolved to stop trying to bring my brother to heel.”
“You were seen with him two nights ago.”
“It’s a very new resolution. But one I am determined to keep.” Elijah sighed. “It’s quite frustrating, Mr. Holmes, being saddled with a troublesome younger brother. All my considerable efforts have been for naught.” He raised his eyes to Mycroft’s face again, and was surprised to see a slight smile there.
“It’s a position I can sympathize with,” Mycroft said. “There are times when I want to leave my own wayward younger brother to his own devices.”
“I’m glad you understand my position,” Elijah said. He signaled to the waiter for the check.
Mycroft was silent for a moment. When he finally spoke, it was in a slightly softer tone. “I admire your resolve,” he said. “I have been tempted to abandon Sherlock. There were many instances when it would have been easier, and perhaps even advisable, to do so. But I have never quite found myself able. He is, after all, family.”
Elijah’s expression was guarded, and he didn’t reply. Mycroft rose, extending a hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Mikaelson,” he said. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
When he was gone, Elijah sat back in his chair, the lines of his mouth showing his displeasure. Removing his cell phone from his breast pocket, he stared at it for a long time before finally, decisively, dialing a number.
“Niklaus,” he said, when his younger brother picked up. “We need to talk.”
