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Chapter Text

It’s inevitable at some point.

That’s what Albert told himself for reassurance. It was simply unrealistic for a couple to go two years without argument! It probably wasn’t even healthy, so really, Albert was doing Mycroft and himself a favour. Conflict is key, or however the saying goes.

Albert was The Lord of Crime! None of his (technically William’s) plans had ever gone wrong. This would be no different. Albert had known Mycroft long enough to know that this type of stunt would definitely upset him. But he would be just as quick to forgive his Al. Probably.

The situation called for desperate measures. Albert had been completely occupied with his duties for a whole two months. Of course he was aware of this, and of the consequential neglect he was dishing out to his boyfriend. How much longer till Mycroft grew tired of it?!

Mycroft knew of Albert’s crimes- the committed, and the ones he was yet to commit. The confession and confiding was a necessary risk to secure the power of MI-6- a risk William calculated would pay off.

William of course, was never wrong, and sure enough, Albert’s ask of Mycroft’s silence, and his Military Intelligence team had been met.

Albert wasn’t sure he could mark the exact point he started wanting more than that from Mycroft. All he knew was once the resources of the most powerful man in Britain were his, it hadn’t been long before the man himself became Albert’s.

Thus two years had passed, a few killings here and there- more of a dress rehearsal than anything, but important punishments to deliver none the less. Amidst these grapefruits, and opium-ghosts though, Albert always had time to slip away to the Intelligence branch of the London War office. To even stop and buy some liquor en route.

But the present time offered no such opportunities. Dress rehearsals were over. The Lord of Crimes’ stage would now have an audience in front of it. That’s why Albert had spent two months without seeing Mycroft’s face.

From booking reservations on the Noahtic, to pulling strings only a Count could, Albert had stretched himself thin with the preparation for Ender’s debut on their show.

It was the day before the cruise when there was a knock at the door to his study.

The clock on his wall read 3:00, so it couldn’t be a call for tea-time. He would have guessed it to be Fred coming to water the Neem plant, but he knew the kid wasn’t in the manor at the time.

“Hm?” he straightened himself on his chair, expecting either William or Louis at the door. “Come in.”

The head that poked in however, wasn’t blonde, and the figure that followed definitely wasn’t one Albert could misrecognise.

“Mycroft?!”

“Al. Sorry was the lack of harbinger, but I happened to be in the vicinity and…worry not; I formulated a believable excuse for needing to see my ‘Agent M,’ though your brother did seem a bit sceptical letting me in-,”

“Shut up,” Albert said, standing up, and taking the other’s hand in his own. He hadn’t realised just how badly his brain needed to see a face other than the team until the most perfect of faces presented itself to him.  “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Ah, well, I’m glad as well,” Mycroft said, adjusting his hand so their fingers were interlocked. His shoulders relaxed, as he sighed with relief. He’d been worried he’d be unwelcome, or that Albert had been avoiding him on purpose, but seemed like they were both happy to see each other.  

Albert smiled, his shoulder’s relaxing in tow, and the slimmest sliver of ease making itself known in his mind after what felt like an eternity. “Thank you for…visiting me, even if it was just on the way-,”

“Ah, well, I must confess to a fib,” Mycroft said, sitting on the diwan by the window. “I actually was not just in the vicinity. I came specifically to see you.”

Albert chuckled softly, sitting next to the other, a hint of sarcasm on his face. “Why does that not surprise me much, you limerent fool.”

Mycroft only reacted with a small smile, more serious thoughts in his head dominating over the impact of the humorous jab by Albert “I thought you were cross with me,” he started, looking pointedly at his fiddling thumbs. “We last spoke t-,”

“Two months ago,” Albert completed, his expression softening. “And I wrote you no letter to inform you I’d be busy.” He turned to look at the garden below, the window frame blocking his view of the roses. He was one who’d always found it hard to apologise, and he couldn’t bare to look Mycroft in the eye as he sighed. “I’m sorry for letting you reach such conclusions. I have been going mad here and I brushed off the task of reaching out to you because I told myself you’d understand.”

“I do understand,” Mycroft clarified. “I always will. But…I suppose even I am not immune to missing someone; to missing you.”

“I missed you too!” Albert said, finally looking at Mycroft. He needed to convey just how much he’d longed to abandon his work just to get a coffee or a beer with his lover. “I really missed you.”

Mycroft turned away from the window too at the soft confession, and oh, the black and white photo in his wallet could never truly remind him of how these green eyes made him feel. “I wish I could paint,” he muttered, reaching out to twirl the other’s hair between his fingers. “It’s grown.”

“I,” he sighed contently, leaning into the touch. “I haven’t found time to have it cut.”

“I like it,” Mycroft said, smiling softly to himself before he let his hand fall to rest on Albert’s shoulder. “Al.”

“Hm?” he smiled coyly as he raised his shoulder to kiss the knuckles that rested there.

“Have you been to Paris?”

Albert tilted his head questioningly. What was this question leading to? “No, I never even thought of it.” He raised an eyebrow in question, not verbalising his confusion so as to let the other explain first.

“It’s a nice place,” is all Mycroft said for a moment. “Would you like to see it?”

“I would like to do a lot of things,” Albert said carefully. “But I don’t think I can-,”

“Je crois en moi,” Mycroft interrupted. “Are you abandoning your motto?”

“Mycroft,” Albert sighed.

“30 nights, including travel,” Mycroft said. “I’ll be off work too. I know it’s a long time, but won’t you try to find time?”

“That’s a whole month!” Albert looked genuinely apologetic, as his took the hand on his shoulder into his, rubbing circles onto the back of it as he continued. “And right now is too fragile of a time….” He drifted off as a thought occurred to him.

“It doesn’t need to be now,” Mycroft said softly. “Or tomorrow. Or this year, or even the next. But before we die, I- perhaps selfishly, wish for us catch even the slightest glimpse the life that we yearn for in our rebirth, and mourn the lack of in our present flesh.”

Albert knew that face too well. He hated that he knew it. That he was the most frequent cause of its appearance on Mycroft’s face. There was, however, no mistaking the way those familiar eyebrows lay, seemingly in a relaxed position, accompanied by the near negligible dent between them. It took Albert a while to even notice and realize the existence of this telltale dent, despite how he loved admiring the face it marked. Mycroft was very skilled at masking his emotions, yes, but Mycroft didn’t tend to hide from Albert. The fact that he didn’t want Albert to recognise his feeling of upsettedness made for concern.

“Firstly,” Albert said, his voice a little harsh. “I do believe in myself. And I am deeply sorry for letting you believe that I lack the ability to prioritize you.” He stood up from the diwan, making his way to his desk and opening the top drawer, conflicted as he looked at the 5 tickets for boarding The Noahtic luxury liner. William, Louis, Moran, Fred and himself…however William had later said that Louis would not be needed for this mission, and that the man was much more required to look after the house in the group’s absence.

Perhaps this was fate.

“Secondly,” he said, his voice having lost its edge, as he spoke more slowly as if to give himself time to change his mind. “I happen to have already planned my own little…honeymoon-esque retreat. And I’d like us to put it in action this week.”

Mycroft’s eyes widened at the declaration, disbelief evident on his face. “You took out time to plan something for us?” his eyes softened into adoration once he overcame the surprise. “Oh my! And you said this week? Despite your stresses…Oh Albert.”

Mycroft smiled as he joined Albert at the desk.

Albert made sure to hide the 3 additional tickets from view, presenting two slips of paper to Mycroft. “I’m sure you’ve heard about it.”

“Oh my God.” Mycroft gingerly took one of the tickets, looking at it in an awe of sorts. “I spent my childhood collecting ballet playbooks about every show I could find, but never attend due to finance. I’d forgotten how much I’d always wanted to see a show.” He smiled at Albert, evidently thrilled.

“This is the liner presenting the first ever shipborne ballet, right?” Mycroft continued. “It’s perfect! I’ll finally get to see a ballet, and to get to do it alongside you! Oh you’re wonderful Al. Brilliant you are!” He yanked Albert closer with poorly hidden excitement, hands interlocked behind the other’s neck as he pressed their foreheads together. “I…I love you.” Mycroft said, his excitement replaced by contentment. “You must give me a kiss.”

“I’ll give you a single kiss now, and then a thousand more upon the cruise ship,” Albert declared, finally closing the gap between their lips, leaning in closer to the other. His hands roamed up and down the torso he’d familiarized himself with enough for every dip of a bone or muscled hid lovely memories in their crevices. “How I’ve missed his body of yours.”

“And how I’ve missed hearing such filth being said with your sultry lips and tongue,” Mycroft replied, as they took back to reclining on the diwan, resuming their soft and honest attempt to merge their bodies, and perhaps their souls together.

-x-

“I should leave. Your brothers will grow suspicious of us,” Mycroft said, as he let himself be held and caressed gently under the dim moonlight that made it trough the window.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave…but you’re right,” Albert said, rubbing circles into Mycroft’s back, planting a gentle kiss on the angular tip of his nose. “Let me walk you to your carriage.”

The two got dressed in silence, sneaking downstairs in avoidance of Louis, and walked towards the government carriage parked in the chilly air.

“I’ll see you at the docks this Saturday, alright?” Albert said, as he begrudgingly let go of Mycroft’s hand once the man was seated in his carriage.

“You shall,” Mycroft said with a nod, and with a the words ‘Goodbye’ and additional unsaids that Albert read in his eyes, Mycroft’s carriage rode away, and Albert was left to figure out how he was going to manage this.

Chapter Text

8 am on the dot. As punctual as ever, Mycroft showed at the docks with his luggage, spotting Albert in the crowd through habit, the particular shade of brown almost too easy to spot among the numerous other auburns and chestnuts.

He smiled to himself, walking as fast as he could without visibly running, till his could see the neck and shoulders that held the head he’d spotted. “Al-ieutenent!” his initial greeting dying in his mouth as he noticed the company Albert was in.

“Director,” Albert smiled politely, as William turned to asses the situation. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here!”

“Neither did I,” Mycroft lied immediately. He didn’t know what exactly was going on, but he wasn’t about to make a scene before he got an explanation. “I’m glad to see you taking time off to spend time with your family.”

“Are you not accompanied here, sir,” William interjected. “Or are you here on business?”

“I-,” he started but was promptly interrupted by the last addition this scenario needed.

“Mycky!”

Oh god…This was not a more the merrier type of situation! This was supposed to be just Albert and him, although…he supposed it was good timing on his idiot brother’s part at least.

“I am, like you, here with my brother,” Mycroft said smoothly as Sherlock reached his side, praying he would play along.

“I personally have no interest in standing around in big boats, but Mycky here really likes ballet, so as a good younger brother, I decided to make the sacrifice of my sanity, and experience utter boredom just for my dear, dear brother,” Sherlock said, thankfully quick on the uptake, throwing an arm around Mycroft’s shoulders.

The arm was reflexively shrugged off with a scowl, as Mycroft muttered under his breath to his brother, in an attempt to instruct him to behave. “I’ve told you not to call me that.”

“Don’t call you what? Mycky? Or should I not call you my dear, sweet, big brother, whom I adore so much!” Sherlock said, in a volume much louder than Mycroft’s. Mycroft glared at Sherlock, who just titled his head, grinning as Albert and William giggled, resulting in Louis coming over to join them. Behind them, two men in crew uniform, who Mycroft recognised from Albert’s stories as Fred Porlock and Sebastian Moran, who Louis had previously been chatting too, also discreetly tuned into the commotion.

In a freer world, Mycroft would have lightly elbowed the giggling Albert with a half hearted scolding on not to encourage his brother’s stupid antics, but all he could do for now was attempt to moderate redness in his ears from embarrassment.

“Can you not do this in public?!” Mycroft turned to Sherlock, annoyed, trying to keep his irritation out of his voice, so as to not lose more respect from the crowd before him. “You’re being immature.”

“Me?! You’re the emotionally immature one, who’s running away from my brotherly affection!” Sherlock said dramatically.

“You little-,” he paused, taking a deep breath. “Sherly. Why don’t we get in line to board the ship? I’m sure my acquaintances have plans more productive than watching you annoy me.”

Sherlock turned to the Moriartys as if only just properly realising their presence. He frowned, looking from the eldest to Mycroft, before his eyebrows jumped up in recognition.

“Oh!” he said, facing Mycroft in shock. “Oh?”

“Rooms! Now!” Mycroft hissed, not waiting for a response, dragging his brother away before he caused some irreparable damage.

“I didn’t know the Director had a brother,” William said, his gaze following after the chaotic duo. “Sherly, did he call him?”

“Sherlock,” Albert corrected immediately. “Er, if I remember correctly. He came up in conversation with Director Holmes once or twice.”

“He seems a bit…eccentric,” Louis said. “Not at all like his older brother.”

“Do you know what his trade is, Albert?” William asked.

“Oh! A detective I believe. Though he works by himself, not with Scotland Yard.”

Willaim nodded to himself, before sighing, bringing himself back to the task. “Shall we, get 'all hands on deck' then- as they say?”

-x-

As soon as they boarded, Albert excused himself to look around and acquaint himself with the other passengers and crew, using the lie to run off to find his probably very confused boyfriend.

Room 103…104…105! Albert knocked on the door hurriedly.

The door opened almost instantly, though not by the Holmes he was seeking.

“Ah! Younger Holmes. I was looking for Myc- er, the Director. Whom I work with. And he mentioned this was his room number, so,” Albert tried, his usual eloquence failing him with the surprise. “And I didn’t get to greet him properly before boarding! Yes, so, it would be impolite to not wish him a nice trip now.” He stopped as he realised Sherlock’s amused expression. Albert sighed, mentally slapping himself for rambling. Gathering himself, he spoke again, less frantically, “Is he in the room?”

Sherlock only grinned, opening the door wider to slip out of the room. “He’s all yours, sir,” he said, with a pat on Albert’s back.

“Er, yes. Thank you?” Albert said, hesitantly stepping in as Sherlock slammed the door shut after.

“Don’t mind him,” came a familiar voice from inside, and Albert relaxed as he confirmed Mycroft was actually in the room. “The bastard’s just cocky about having figured it out; about us, I mean,” Mycroft said, with a small smile, shaking his head. “He always could read me with annoying accuracy.”

Albert’s eyes widened as the implications of what he was hearing set in. “You mean he figured out that we two are seeing each other just by that short glance he threw us?!”

“Don’t worry,” Mycroft sighed, sitting up on the bed as Albert came into view. “He won’t tell anyone.”

“Right.” Albert hesitantly sat next to the other, the soft bed sinking slightly under him. He paused for a second, debating beating around the bush, but one glance at Mycroft’s face told him exactly what assumption the other had come to- the truth. So he sighed, and kept his voice confident as he spoke. “You’re probably wondering why the others were here.”

“It has me curious, yes,” Mycroft said softly. “You aren’t here on a mission right?”

“No!” Albert said immediately. “No, let me explain!” he said. He hadn’t expected Mycroft to show up before he got free of the team’s company, but he could fix this. “It was last minute on their part. I told them I was sailing, and they insisted on joining me- not for a mission! Just for them to collect data. For future missions. There will be many arsehole aristocrats on board, you see! So William said he must seize the opportunity, and well, I couldn’t exactly tell them I intended for a date, could I?”

The silence that followed the next 4 or 5 seconds had Albert struggling to maintain his smile, nearly buckling under Mycroft’s analytic stare. It was a good lie. It made sense. There was no reason for Mycroft to call his bluff.

“Well, as long as they don’t get in our way,” Mycroft said finally, sighing. Albert’s explanation made sense, so he forced himself to silence the gut feeling that told him otherwise. “But I’d recommend you lot to steer clear of Sherlock. He is the worst combination of nosy, and observant, and might figure your secrets out.”

“I’ll let the others know,” Albert said, relaxing as Mycroft confirmed that he was no longer suspicious. He turned and reclined himself until he had his head laid on the other’s lap, lying down comfortably. “Oh, how I’ve missed us.”

Mycroft smiled softly, expressing his agreement by combing his fingers through brown hair that he’d never forget the texture of. “Al,” he softly said, his finger’s fixating on undoing a knot he’d found in Albert’s hair.

“Hm?”

“Will you give me a kiss?”

Albert laughed softly at that, pushing himself into sitting position. “You needn’t ask for one so formally.” He let his fingers toy with the collar of the other’s shirt for a second, before tugging the fabric to pull Mycroft closer. Their kiss started gently, with the occasional break-away to giggle, and to place a peck on the corners of each other’s mouths.

Soon enough, the two months of abstinence caught up to them, and the door was hurriedly locked in the wake of their love making.

-x-

“My brother’s must be looking for me.” Albert made no move to pull away from his hold around Mycroft’s torso.

“It’s nearly lunch time,” Mycroft said in response. “We should get dressed.”

“A little longer,” Albert insisted, snuggling closer to the other.

“How about we skip lunch?” Mycroft suggested, smiling contently at being with Albert like this.

Oh, how wonderful that sounded, and Albert was tempted to agree, but he knew he couldn’t. “I’m sorry, but I must be with them for a bit.”

“Will you at least sit with me to eat?” Mycroft asked, softly.

“Of course,” Albert said. “This trip is for us, after all.”

Mycroft smiled as a kiss was placed on his forehead, before he forced his body to sit up. “Come then, I’ll draw a bath. You can iron out our suit till then.”

Albert returned the smile, as he rolled out of bed, gathering his discarded suit from the floor. “Let’s be quick about it, yes? I’m starved.”

“Alright,” Mycroft said as he disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of water filling the tub filled the room.

Albert fetched the hand iron from the closet. As he laid his suit on the bed, the flow of the water, accompanied by the soft tune Mycroft was humming, allowed him to see an alternate life, where there was no need for a Lord of Crime, and he was free to simply do laundry and taxes with Mycroft.

Maybe they would adopt a cat. Or a dog.

The sound of the water going off brought Albert back to reality, as he folded his ironed clothes and kept them aside.

In this world, Albert had a duty. He couldn’t think selfishly!

Yet, that didn’t mean he didn’t wish that moment would last forever, with just him and Mycroft.

Happiness.

Chapter Text

“I haven’t had lobster in a long while!”

“Behave!” Mycroft scolded his brother, wondering why he’d allowed the utter animal to sit with him in the first place. The table seated a party of four, which was two more people than Mycroft would have liked. As much as he’d have liked to dismiss the entire dining hall till it was just him and Albert, his two years loving the man had taught him to find the warmth and contentment in subtlest of gestures, like the knee that rested against his under the table, occasionally bumping.

“Director,” William said, calling Mycroft’s attention before he likely lost his composure and punched Sherlock for his abhorrent table manners. “Apologies for interrupting your thoughts, however it’s not every day I’d get to meet a man in your position and so I request you- please do quell my curiosity about a certain matter. I’m sure you would be the most aware of such a case.”

Mycroft ordered himself not to tense, and simply nodded in affirmation. He could already guess what William Moriarty’s question was, and he was prepared to respond with the smoothest lie, however, if Albert’s praise of his brother was anything to go by, Mycroft would need to be perfectly unsuspicious with his response.

“As a citizen of London, I do feel fear at these rumours about a certain violent criminal who has taken to the uprising. My circles address him as ‘the Lord of Crime’ in their gossip. I bring this up in hope of some reassurance that you have forces employed to subdue such a killer,” William said, his voice a perfect façade of genuine sincerity.

“Why of course,” Mycroft said with a lie of rivalling quality, acting as though the mere implication that he would not yet have taken action on the matter at hand offended him personally.

He continued speaking as if he had no idea the killers being spoken of were right at that table. “I obviously can’t reveal much, however The Crown recognises the threat that this merciless killer poses to our great nation. Something so disruptive to our peace is being pursued with utmost power! You needn’t long fear the Lord of-

“The Lord of Crime!” Sherlock interrupted “Is not someone your redcoats can handle, Mycroft.” He unraveled the swan that his napkin had been folded into and wiped his hands before turning to William. “I understand your fear sir, but I find it senseless that you irrationally fear someone with a motive clear as day. I do not believe you to be the type of target he would pursue, unless you’ve committed some atrocities that escaped even the eyes and ears of my sources.” He smiled, a bit of pride in his eyes before they caught those of Mycroft, leading him to quickly add- “Apologies if I offended you, but you see, the Lord of Crime is topic of great interest to me.”

“That’s enough now.” Surprisingly it was Albert who spoke, putting his cutlery down by his plate, looking up with a frown.

“The Director is here on vacation, just as we are, so really Will it’s rather rude to interrogate him when I’ve introduced him here as a work acquaintance. And either way, murder and  the likes is too gloomy a topic! While I am in no authority to scold your brother, Director, I feel it necessary to at least request everyone at this table to stick to more merry conversation!”

There was silence for a moment, before Mycroft spoke.

“Right. So, I believe I saw a third member in your party at the docks. Is he not aboard?”

“Ah, Louis?” William replied, the weight of Albert’s reprimand having lifted from the table with the change in topic. “No, he isn’t here. He unfortunately gets utterly seasick, so he simply came to see us off.”

“Oh that’s-,” Mycroft started, his train of thought breaking when he noticed Albert stand up from the table.

“Excuse me please,” Albert announced apologetically. “I would like to go look at the stage set up for the ballet before the show starts. I read in the playbook that the lead ballerina was in a production of ‘Ballet Comique de la Reine’ I happened to see as a child. I think it customary to meet her and compliment her past work,” he lied. In reality, he needed to move forward with the agenda of murder and speak to the target himself.

“Ah well, I’m done eating too,” Mycroft said. “Might I join you?”

“Er-,”

“Ah, but Director, the ballet starts rather soon- just an hour left, and I believe some sauce to have splashed upon your shirt collar, likely from an unfortunately angled cracking of your lobster shell,” William pointed out, gesturing to a stain Mycroft swore wasn’t there a second ago. “You ought to change into a new shirt before the production begins.”

“I,” Mycroft glanced from William to Albert, and then back to William before sighing. “I suppose I should. Thank you for pointing it out.” He stood up from his seat, fixing his jacket over the stain. “I’ll see you for the show then, Moriartys.” He bowed his head slightly before taking his leave, Sherlock being the only one left at the table, as Albert gave a meaningful nod to his brother, and they both left in the direction of the stage area.

Once they were out of Sherlock’s view, William wandered off to speak to Moran, and Albert went to the Billiards room to find Enders and introduce himself.

He maximised his flattery and complimented the other’s billiards skills, and soon, Enders invited him to sit with him in the balcony for the ballet.

Perfect. Albert grinned internally. The fly was in the trap.

“I met your younger brother earlier,” Enders said. “Very pleasant gentleman much like yourself, I must say. The refinement is an island in the sea of filth aboard this ship.”

Albert was saved from needing to grace that disgusting statement with a response as Moran approached the two and informed Enders that he had a telegram.

“Ah, you ought to attend to that. I shall see you in the balcony for the show, yes. Pleasure speaking with you Count Enders,” Albert said, voice sounding so sincere he could have fooled even himself.

“Yes, see you around then.”

It would be soon that Enders would snap at the bait and the show could truly begin. For the moment, the ball was in William’s court, to convince Enders to attempt to dispose the body of the victim in the way it could be procured by Fred and Moran.

Albert chose to take a moment to himself, leaving on the railings and gazing upon the great blue sea. He sighed. He wouldn’t be able to sit with Mycroft for the ballet. He had to sit with Enders to point out the disguised Fred and ensure that Enders chased after the trick.

It was fifteen minutes before Albert moved to the stage area, scanning the rows for Enders.

“Al,” came a voice from behind him and he whipped around to see Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes looking at him, one more excited than the other. “It’s almost time, where have you been?” Mycroft asked. “Come along, I’ve name-dropped at bit to acquire front row sea-,”

“Ah Moriarty, there you are.” A grinning Enders interrupted. The fact that a murder had made his mood to be such sickened Albert to his core. “I’m just heading to my seat, hurry on.”

Mycroft blinked, looking at Albert for an explanation, however was met with just an apologetic glance. “Alb-,”

“Right, I was just looking for you actually,” Albert said, forcing himself to ignore Mycroft and smile at Enders. The hardest part was to walk away knowing that his lover felt confused and betrayed.

Once they were seated, Albert had to do everything not to wince from the analytical glance that Mycroft was giving him from down below. Act one was finished with Albert registering barely any of it. No matter- it was now time to proceed with other matters.

“By Jove, Count Enders! Look there at that man! He’s pickpocketing that gentleman over there!” Albert said, feigning conversational disgust as the disguised Fred snagged a gold pocket watch from a stranger.

Ender’s gaze followed Albert’s, and it was mildly funny when his eyes widened in shock and recognition. “It can’t be!” he shrieked, looking again with his binoculars this time before sprinting away without a word. Albert smiled to himself- though only for a moment, because then, his gaze met Mycroft’s and a heavy blanket of guilt settled upon his heart.

-x-

It was chaos when Enders arose on the stage, stabbing a man to death.

“Wait a minute. Isn’t that, Count Blitz Enders?!” Albert had called, and the bedlam further lasted up until he jumped off the ship. Albert sighed, as William, Moran and Fred came to his side, exchanging glances of congratulations for a job well done.

“Excuse me please,” Albert said as Moran suggested they get drinks from the bar. He had spotted a familiar ponytailed Holmes standing alone in the corner, thoughtful.

“Sherlock,” he said, approaching the other. “Do you know where your brother is?”

Sherlock looked him up and down, before nodding, but saying nothing else.

“Er…can you tell me where he is?”

“No.” Sherlock said. “He doesn’t want to see you right now.” He all but stormed away from Albert.

Oh. Oh god. Mycroft was…hurt.

“Sherlock!” he followed the other. “Please! I need to explain to him- I- I need to talk to him, and apologise, please.”

Sherlocked paused his walking, silent for a moment before sighing. “He’s in my room. I’ll take you, but if you-“ he sighed. “Just don’t be an arsehole to my brother alright. Believe it or not, he has feelings. Big ones too.”

“I know,” Albert said softly. “I know. Thank you.”

“Come along.”

Chapter Text

Albert didn’t knock. If it weren’t for his lock picking talents, he would most likely have been ignored and left at the door.

“Mycroft,” he said inhaling sharply as he spotted the other sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out at the vast, dark ocean through the open curtains.

“Why would you think this was a wise idea?” Mycroft replied. He didn’t particularly feel like greeting Albert or making small talk.

“I wanted to spend time with you and this was the only way I could think of doing so,” Albert said, standing a small distance away from the bed, afraid to approach Mycroft, lest his closeness of his presence hurt the man in some way…Lest he himself be wounded by getting closer to Mycroft.

“Why did you lie to me?” Mycroft asked softly. He was being polite with his words and letting Albert speak, yet that only made Albert feel more guilty.

“Because I wanted to have you be excited about something. You asked to travel to Paris, and I really wished to be able to do so, but this is the only compromise that could work for me, and I figured that you’d be more pleased during our moments together if you thought I was on break from working,” Albert tried.

“I am not pleased, Albert. We had a few hours of sex before lunch, followed by an awkward meal with our brothers and now the ship is turning back because of your debacle, so we’ll be back in London by bloody noon tomorrow.  Additionally, you lied to me about being here for only me, telling me I was your priority aboard this ship, yet you sidelined me the whole time. I was confused. Not pleased. No, not pleased at all,” Mycroft said, his tone eerily calm, because his eyes revealed that he was anything but. “Furthermore, you obviously knew I would discover your hand in the death of Enders, and clearly expected forgiveness and understanding, which- oh Albert, I will always give you, but I cannot lie and say that I’m not hurt.”

Albert felt a hard pang in his chest at that, wincing. “I promise you, I’m trying constantly to make you happy with me, when my purpose was never to bring happiness upon anyone- not even myself. I simply, and perhaps selfishly wanted a small window of time where we; no, where I could pretend that I could completely be yours but we both know that isn’t possible.”

Mycroft sighed, turning away from the window towards Albert. “I’m aware of how much of you I’m allowed to have, and hence I would have preferred your honesty. You led me to believe that for a few days I would have more of you. More of your time, your touch, your words, your mind, yet you gave me a fraction of what you promised me, and that has utterly hurt me. You lied. You wished to make me excited, and you succeeded, yet the anticlimactic nature of events made me feel empty, Albert. I expected to have you at my side for longer, and every second that you weren’t was a betrayal.”

Albert’s eyes widened, processing the painful confession. He had certainly not anticipated so much pain from this confrontation, and he sputtered, trying to find some way to defend himself. This romance was one story where he wasn’t the villain damn it! He couldn’t fuck this up. “God Mycroft, you’re making me…sound, like some sort of monster.” He’d nearly said ‘You’re making me feel like some sort of monster’ but managed to catch himself.

“Perhaps you are one Albert, and the truth we know is that I still am in love with you, so please, spare me from your cruelty. Wreak it on anybody else, but never me Albert, because I’ll always love you, and if you’re cruel, my heart with throb with agony in my chest.”

Albert forced himself to keep breathing steadily, his own heart wailing in its own agony. “Oh Mycroft,” he said after a moment of silence. “You mustn’t forgive me like this.”

“I do not forgive you Albert.”

Albert gasped, though it wasn’t out of shock, but rather at the wave of relief that passed over him. “I will do everything in my power to earn that forgiveness.”

“I shall do everything in my power not to forgive you before you earn it,” Mycroft replied.

They stayed in silence for a moment, Albert finally able to seat himself on the bed as well. Things would not end well for them in any universe. Their stories were written too differently, but both of them were desperate to take what they could, and to give what they had.

“I’ll come with you,” Albert said. “I’ll come with you to Paris. Once everything is over, before I retire to my atonement, I’ll come with you to Paris.”

Mycroft sighed softly, his shoulders losing some of their tension. “Alright,” he said with a small smile. He left unsaid how he thought-

Once we return, I’ll follow you to the tower, and shall never leave your side.