Who: Mycroft Holmes (Narrative) When: Monday, 7 August, morning Where: Mycroft's office in the Ravenmoore Council Building What: Poisoning Rating: PG-13 because somebody gets poisoned Status: Complete
"Coffee, sir?" his clerical assistant asked as Mycroft walked past.
"Yes, please. But make it quick, I'll be leaving soon."
The hearing was scheduled at the court house in little over an hour; Mycroft's internal clock kept perfect time, but he still checked his pocket watch as he entered his office to make sure. It was very important for him to be there, because his testimony in front of the judge would determine whether or not Moriarty would be given an early release from his parole. His position as Councilman gave the most weight, but Sherlock and Molly would also be there to back him up as character witnesses that Moriarty was not rehabilitated, that he was actually putting on a show, just as he had done in the past. Moriarty was a master at deception, and was ruthless - Mycroft suspected the criminal consultant would take steps to prevent him from attending the hearing, since it would be his final decision that mattered. He'd asked Faora to follow him around as his bodyguard all week, and he kept extra alert for anything suspicious.
His driver was going to pick him up from the Council Building to take him to the courthouse in a few minutes, so Mycroft went to collect his documents before heading out. He sat behind his desk and opened his laptop to quickly check his emails, when his assistant brought him his coffee, setting it down within arms reach. "Thank you," he mumbled, acknowledging the person out out the corner of his eye but more interested in scrolling. His hand reached out for the cup and took a sip.
The first thing Mycroft noticed was the taste. It was subtle, very subtle, and masked by the bitterness of the coffee, but his honed taste buds picked up on it right away. He looked into his cup, but before he could identify the flavor, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach, and he immediately knew what had happened.
"Faora!" he called out for her, in the next room. By the time she'd arrived a few moments later, Mycroft had fallen from his chair, doubled over on the floor and writing in pain, while sweat poured from his brow. But even in his agony, he still had the strength and clarity of mind to tell her what happened.
"Poison."
[ooc: sorry, this was meant to go up this morning, but I underestimated how busy I'd be today]