Glass: Reader Requests

When He Was Gone

Requested on FFN: Can we find out what it was like for Margaux when she thought Sherlock was dead? Like going through the pregnancy by herself and stuff

*

Ferocious wind battered the window of the bus stop. It was freezing cold, rain threatening to fall through the dark clouds as Margaux waited, arms folded tight across her chest to keep her coat closed, knees knocking together as she fidgeting on the spot.

It had become normal since Sherlock died for a wave of sadness to suddenly overcome her, without reason or warning. She tilted her head back and blinked a few times, opening her eyes wide to stop the tears from escaping.

The bus ride was short. Noisy and crowded yet somehow so lonely as she stood gripping the rail. When she got off at her stop, she walked quickly to a large building, flashing her badge to a security guard who let her inside.

She went deep into the building, not entirely sure of where she was going but being sure to walk with intent, as if she belonged there. She stepped up to a sleek, round reception desk and placed her hands on the counter.

"Yes?" the receptionist asked as he pressed a button on the side of his headset.

"I'm here to see Mycroft Holmes, do you know where I might find him?" she replied.

He eyed her for a moment before directing her towards the lifts. "Twelfth floor."

She nodded and walked away, hurrying into the lift before the doors closed, feeling the sadness return as she stood amongst the group of officials in the small, crowded space.

The twelfth floor was dimly lit, almost lair-like. A woman sat behind a desk, one leg crossed over the other with her face buried in her phone.

"Hi," said Margaux. "I'd like to speak with Mycroft Holmes please."

"Mr Holmes is in a meeting," she replied without looking up.

"Okay, well I'll wait."

"He's likely to be a very long time, it's a negotiation."

"Honestly, I'll wait."

The woman put her phone down and glared up at her. "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Margaux Cave."

"Okay Miss Cave, well Mr Holmes is very unlikely to entertain an impromptu visit-"

"It's er it's Doctor Cave," she interrupted, her nervous voice laced with irritation. "And I'm sorry but I'm not leaving until I've spoken to him."

There was a long, awkward silence as the two of them stared at each other. Neither budging, unwilling to let the other win.

Margaux rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. "I assure you he'll meet with me," she said. "Tell him it's the woman from the basement."

"The...?"

"He'll know what it means."

*

She stood near the door with her hands in the pockets of her coat, watching as the tall, suited man strolled towards his desk and sat down behind it. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his movements casual and indifferent as he gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk.