Chapter Text
I felt surprisingly clearheaded and calm as my heels clicked against the tile floors in the central London government training facility. It had been years since I'd had a first day of work. Back then, I was just grateful that someone had taken a chance on me and I could work one job instead of three. This time was different. I had been recruited. And by "recruited," I meant plucked out of my 9 to 5 job at Hawthorne and Downing Law Practice and into a mystery position I wasn't privileged enough to know the details about yet.
Just three months ago, I was prepping the large, prestigious conference rooms at H & D for the quarterly board meeting. My boss, Mr. Hawthorne, was a product of nepotism and nothing like what our company image tried to portray. Though his grandfather gave him more responsibility to sharpen him up, in the six years I worked for Mr. Hawthorne, he only proved to be a 165 cm miser with an inappropriately massive ego. Up until my very last day, he still called me "Janet." She was the secretary of another lawyer he was having an affair with.
I would still be there if it hadn't been for our two guests that day: a Lady Smallwood and Anthea Neilson. They were consultants who would oversee an international merger. I was solely focused on Mr. Hawthorne, who once again insisted on martinis for lunch. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary at the time. I made sure everything was running smoothly, from the water glasses on the table to the German company Skyping in. And yet, the following Saturday, Lady Smallwood bumped into me at my local coffee shop. Her expensive red coat and designer heels in my casual walking neighborhood let me know it was no accident.
"Listen, dear. Positions at companies about to be bought and sold for parts come and go, but the government is forever. We have a position that's been hard to fill," Lady Smallwood said before sipping a black coffee and grimacing. "The woman I was with, Anthea, said you'd fit the role quite nicely."
"Thank you, Lady Smallwood, but I'm not actually looking for a job right now," I told her.
As I walked away after thanking her again, I wondered if I'd made a mistake. The same way people found their callings in art or teaching, I found mine in being an assistant. Being responsible for helping someone breathe easier lit me up inside. Plus, I was good at it. But, it wasn't a secret that my job was unnecessarily exhausting, had no room for growth, and left me in a constant state of testing my patience. Perhaps it was time to move on. But to the government? Not the move I was interested in.
Luckily, or unluckily for me, Lady Smallwood took my declines as impressive negotiating skills. She countered until I couldn't say no to a signing bonus that was more money than I'd made some years working at restaurant jobs full time.
"Anthea wants you," was all she said.
The human personality trait of enjoying being fought for took over. I signed a nondisclosure form and acceptance contract, then found myself in the crowded training building for my first day in no time.
"I'm early," I noted, then looked wistfully at the coffee hut in the middle of the lobby. I'd been too excited to eat, and drinking caffeine on an empty stomach was terrible. But I could smell the fresh grounds from where I stood. I rechecked my watch. Early, but not early enough to make it through the growing queue for a latte.
"So she did get you."
"Oh!" I turned quickly, almost bumping into a tall, familiar brunette who wore an expensive gray suit and a smug smile.
"Careful now," Anthea said, catching my elbow. She was so beautiful. Did I have to be that beautiful?
"Well, Lady Smallwood certainly knows how to play hardball. I'll give her that much," I finally found my voice and clasped my hands together in gratitude. "Either way, thank you for the opportunity, Anthea."
"Hold that thank you for later. You're not in yet. Let's walk and talk."
I followed Anthea and her signature smirk to the 11th floor. There was an orientation of sorts, and a group of newcomers was already mingling in a conference room.
"You'll start out here. I'll be honest; much of this will be reviewing things you already know about working in an office. But,"
"It's your way of testing other things, right? Like trustworthiness and confidentiality?" I asked, looking around already. Anthea grinned at me, satisfaction evident on her face.
"I knew I liked you."
Despite Anthea's warning, I couldn't help but get excited. I was a bit obsessed with office work, even if it was a cover-up for testing and honing our other skills for a few weeks. There was something about making a machine run smoothly with some thoughtfulness, a touch of color coding, and a whole lot of clarifying emails that made my heart flutter. I liked to believe you could come to prepare for just about anything, even the unexpected.
"I will make a success of this," I told myself on my walk from the train station. After a few weeks in training, I decided to take varying routes back to my townhouse flat in an effort to be inconspicuous. I'd even offered Marigold and Linda, my two lovely old landlords who'd recently married, to pay for electronic door knobs with fobs and a digital keypad. They were surprisingly alright with the whole thing, even though we had to repeat the handyman's lesson on how to use it a few times. Was I overdoing it? Who could say? Nevertheless, I was home.
"Evening, dear," Marigold greeted me from her place at the mailbox.
"Hello, Mari, how are ya," I asked, checking my mail as well.
"Linda's cranky lately with her new medication, so what can I do?" She rolled her eyes but laughed. "How are you, love? How are the Pitbulls? Not causing you problems?"
"None at all; they're perfect sweethearts. I'm telling you, they get a bad reputation for being devils, but they are rather peaceful," I told her.
What started as something to do because I was bored turned into me fostering dogs regularly from my local shelter. Usually, Marigold had no problem with this, but she'd been wary of the Pitbull twins that I didn't have the heart to split up. I knew a bit of training was all it would take to get them adopted.
"Sure thing, dear," said Mari, not a convincing word to be found. She asked me about my day, and I thought back to my many lectures on confidentiality.
"Just the usual secretary things," I said with a shrug.
"And yet you have a bit of a glow about you lately. I just wondered if there was a certain someone," Mari hummed, turning before I could rebuttal. "Goodnight, dear."
"Goodnight."
It was a blessing in disguise, really. If Mari told Linda I was home, I'd be stuck in the hallway chatting half the night. Instead, I was leaving my shoes at the door and making quick work of my stockings so I could give every bit of adoration to the bundles of energy bouncing around their kennels.
"Oliver and Olivia, my angels," I gushed at them over their whimpers. Mari's comment floated into my mind. First, it made me laugh. A good job is just as good as a partner. But then, it was a point of concern. Was a good job as good as a partner?
"I know you're all I need, but sometimes I want things like intimacy," I consulted the canines before me. In response, they did cover my legs and arms with kisses, which was an excellent counterpoint. To further test the theory, I changed into casual clothes for a date- our nightly walk around the neighborhood. At this point, I had mapped my area in every way I could think of, including by which trees the dogs liked best. Maybe I was overdoing it with the spy shit.
"That was the best date I've been on since yesterday's date. Never gets old," I admitted when we got home. Two thorough belly rubs sealed the deal. "Much more agreeable than dating."
Still, I gave myself a good once-over after my shower. I had my father's dark eyes and nose and my mother's kinky, curly hair and brown skin from both. I was a good match for a lovely partner, I thought while pinching my cheeks. Yes indeed.
After two months, I earned the privilege of knowing who exactly I was working for. I was given my assignment along with my badge, a phone, and a name.
"Your employer's name is Mycroft Holmes. Are you familiar with him?" Anthea asked as we left a small cafe with our lunch and walked towards my mystery employer's office. It was completely different than the training facilities. The brown building was almost residential, with trees lining the surrounding streets. It was just off the main road, but you'd need to know what you were looking for to find it. Best of all, it had an excellent cafe within walking distance.
"I'm not. Should I be?" I wondered, trying to think of anything I saw in the news. "I've only heard a few things around the office about Mr. Holmes being a bit… stern. And he's got eyes in the back of his head."
"If he was a celebrity, we'd really be in for it, so it's good you don't know him. We, you included now, go to great lengths to keep him under the radar," Anthea said. "I suppose I'll tell you now so you can wrap your head around it. You aren't my second in command; you're replacing me as Mr. Holmes's personal assistant."
"What?" I gasped, almost hurt that I wouldn't be working with her anymore. Why such a last-minute change? While I got accustomed to pacing and the data system, Anthea became my mentor. Some would call her frigid or standoffish, mostly the men she'd turned down for dates. But I thought she was an inspiration for efficiency and how to carry oneself. I wanted to know everything, and I wanted to make a good addition.
Anthea smirked and rolled her eyes.
"Don't flatter me, Elise. Save it for Mr. Holmes. He arrived at noon, so you'll meet him when we return. They call him the Ice Man, but there's nothing to worry about."
It was the big day. I made sure I wore my favorite clothes- a dark green pencil skirt and green blouse that looked lovely against my deep brown skin. Anthea suggested the comfortable heels I chose, but my low bun hairstyle and rose-colored lipstick were my ideas. Now I just needed to stand tall with confident thoughts.
"Is his brother really that crazy detective from the news?" I asked as we arrived. She nodded but gave me a look of warning.
"Do not mention his brother. It's a sore spot."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Are you ready to meet him?" Anthea asked as we were on the lift to the top floor.
"As ready as I can be, I suppose." I took a deep breath when the doors opened, and we walked into the large, well-secured office suite.
"As I mentioned, this is his main London office and where you will work your desk. He has another office at the Diogenes Club that he frequents that you'll go to soon enough," said Anthea. She was already leading me to the tea station. "He's just got back from his meeting, so he's in. We'll bring him his tea and his diary. Don't expect any smiles or niceties, hm?"
I made the tray, and she told me what to look out for—tea on the left-hand side with sugar and a bit of milk. The newspaper went on the right, along with the mail. I tucked a padfolio under my arm and picked up the tray. I nodded, then took a deep breath.
"Okay, I'm ready."
Anthea whipped out her phone and sent a text. After a moment, she motioned for me to follow her. She rapped on the solid wood door and pulled it open.
"Mr. Holmes, this is your new PA, Elise Addison," Anthea introduced me.
I stepped into the room and took a split second to take it all in.
It was regal in a sense- floor-to-floor light carpeting, red curtains on the large windows on one wall, and the bay window behind the desk. Oh, and the desk, along with every other piece of furniture, was a deep cherry wood, no doubt antiques taken excellent care of. Exquisite.
The decor was the most interesting, though. There was a suit of armor complete with a giant sword in the corner of the room near the desk and large portraits of royalty and some figures I wouldn't recognize. But ultimately, this office could have belonged to anyone. There were no personal effects. That is, except for him. Mycroft Holmes sat at the helm of it all, looking me over with a tight smile.
I had from the door to the credenza to take him in - ginger hair, blue eyes, clean-shaven, well-pressed suit, stern face. He was going to be a joy, I was sure.
"Hello, Sir. Happy to be here," I greeted him, and he nodded.
"Hello," he said. His voice wasn't profound; it was posh and to the point. I first placed the tray on the credenza, then sat a few documents before him.
"What is this?" He almost sounded disgruntled. He looked at the three copies of his daily diary.
"Options, Sir. These schedule styles have been proven to be the most efficient to view. Anthea mentioned you wanted hard copies now. I will continue with whichever you prefer most." I stood beside his desk, waiting for the verdict. He looked to Anthea, tweaked an eyebrow, and chose one, handing me back his least favorite. "Excellent choice."
"I have a meeting," he said. It wasn't a direction per se, but the order was there. Get out.
"That was good," Anthea told me quietly after closing the office door when we left. It was a relief to hear. She showed me where things were and finally motioned to my desk. It was spotless and empty. "There's a clean desk policy. Mr. Holmes's office needs to remain a secure fortress."
"Of course."
"Alright, Elise. I'll be wrapping things up in other departments and stopping in from time to time, but think of this as me handing you the reigns. You can go do what you do best."
I wanted to hug her, but it didn't seem appropriate. I shook her hand and wished her luck on the new marriage instead. She raised an eyebrow at me.
"Oh, it's just I assumed you were getting married because you always take a ring off before you start working, and now you're leaving," I explained while motioning to the tan line of her finger. That aside, I finally got to ask the question that lingered in the back of my mind. "Why did you make Lady Smallwood work so hard to get me?" Anthea smiled in thought before answering.
"That day at the board meeting, your boss was a mess. Fidgety, nervous, clearly hungover. But every time he was about to fudge it, you saved him before he realized he needed saving. I wouldn't be surprised if you made that presentation yourself."
"I did," I grumbled, my confirmation as I thought back to that day.
"See? You have a fluid disposition about you and a calm I couldn't quite give to Mr. Holmes. Anyway, you'll do excellent."
She sent me along with her blessing, and we parted ways at the end of her last day. Just as I sat down and pulled up emails, I got a text to my blackberry.
Come in. -MH
Of course, he already had my number. I quickly secured my computer and made my way to the door, a notepad in hand. With a gentle courtesy knock, I let myself into the office and was guided to a seat in front of Mr. Holmes's desk. He looked me over, and I did everything I could to not fidget in the stillness of his office.
"I'm sure Anthea has filled you in on everything," Mr. Holmes said. It was never much of a question with him, just a conclusion he'd come to that I had the chance to confirm or deny.
"She did, Sir, but I would like to hear what you may have to add," I told him, pulling out my pin from the binding of my notepad.
Learning about my employer was my favorite part. Even though I didn't often hear a genuine "thank you" from Mr. Hawthorne, it still brought me a special kind of joy to have his favorite pen ready before he asked or have a better-edited copy of a speech on hand.
"Just know this, Miss Addison. Everything you see, hear, and do at work is classified. There is no water cooler talk or chats about work at the pub. Do you understand," he asked, and I nodded while jotting down a few words.
"Yes, Sir."
"I expect you to be punctual and communicative. You should be able to be reached at any time." He watched me nod and write down a few more things. "You will be at my side during meetings. You'll go on the occasional trip with me, and you will sometimes take my place when needed."
"I understand, Sir. And do you prefer I not speak?" I asked. It wasn't sarcastic at all. At H & D, silence was my preferred state. Mr.Holmes paused at my question, narrowing his eyes a bit. "It's alright if you don't."
"I know it's alright," he said definitively. He sounded frustrated, but not necessarily at me, which was good. "I don't need a mute lapdog, Miss Addison. I need someone who will perform admirably," he said.
I nodded and made a quick note, which he easily read upside down from across his desk. It was the first faint emotion I saw on him since arriving, the faintest hint of a smile that came across his face.
"Did you write 'free to speak?"
"Yes," I said, feeling my cheeks warm. That was going to happen a lot, I could tell.
That night I slipped into my pajamas and curled up with the dogs, leftover pot pie, and a Korean TV drama. They were just better, and I was so close to watching the shows without subtitles. When I was satisfied with a good tv ending and a full belly, I patted the dogs again before putting them in their kennels.
"Today was interesting, darlings. I think I'm in for an adventure."