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One thing Albert had never expected to see in Mycroft’s office was to see the director himself lying down on his sofa with his eyes closed.
And yet today he found himself caught the exact view.
It shouldn't be all that surprising–after all resting is a normal thing. Well, in Mycroft’s case, though, it caught Albert off guard instead.
When it comes to the director, it's already an unlikely sight to catch him lounging somewhere else other than his seat, let alone lying down. Mycroft Holmes makes his name known for having a stuck up high self-discipline, he makes his ability to stick with strict working rules his whole personality.
His current state was strikingly unbecoming, it’s to the point Albert could swear he just saw an illusion.
Albert still took a pause to reason with himself. Maybe something went horribly wrong this morning, so much so that it affects Mycroft's durable mental fortitude. Albert would know; after all, he knows someone else in his home who would spend his time napping after using his brain power to an excessive extent.
That would explain why he got no answer back when he knocked on the office door. He felt slightly guilty for entering without permission. But can you blame him? He was being slightly curious, Mycroft would always let someone know whether their visit was unwanted, just never with silence.
Plus, the door was unlocked, which was rather unusual to the point of concern when it comes to Mycroft. He’s after all not unfamiliar with assassination attempt scenes, he normally wouldn’t be this reckless. If the older Holmes wanted to still continue and sleep undisturbed despite that, Albert could at least warn him about his door.
(Ironically, he has the nerve to even think about all that when realistically, as the Lord of the Crime himself, he’s one of London’s most dangerous fugitives as of now. Not to mention that the fugitive stood dangerously close to Britain's most influential man…)
Albert stayed completely still in the doorway, mentally debating with himself if he should just keep going inside or come back to visit another day.
He rubbed the base of his nose bridge as the two voices competed in his mind, causing him a minor headache. After a few strokes he concluded--he dared himself to walk into the office and deal with the consequences later. Not every day you catch Mycroft sleeping at work, much less so with the door still unlocked. Albert has no idea where the key might be, for now he can't just let Mycroft be by himself.
He went further in and stopped when he’s close to the sofa. He crouched to get a closer look of the sleeping man. From this distance, he can fully observe the director's face, which felt like a crime to commit; he knew just how much Mycroft would hate it if he was awake. Everyone and their mother knows Mycroft highly regards his personal space.
Ignoring the anxiety, Albert determined to inspect the features on Mycroft's face further. He started by admiring his jaw, moving up to examine his high cheekbones, and then his nose bridge, and then his eyebrows. This up close Albert realised and came to admit that Mycroft Holmes is a very handsome man. The sharp edges of his look are further accentuated by hair dark as midnight.
Again, Albert had just come to realise, even in his sleep it seemed like the director couldn't catch a break. There was nothing peaceful written in his resting face. His eyebrows perpetually creased, lips taut, the black circles under his eyes and wrinkles becoming more apparent each day.
The burden of carrying a whole nation must have been arduous; sooner or later, it will catch up and today might just be one of those days for Mycroft.
When Albert unwittingly tried to soothe him down by stroking his hair, his hand was caught in mid-act. Albert gasped and tried to pull his hand out of reflex, but to no avail. The grip was so strong Albert swore it cracked his wrist.
Albert hissed audibly.
And then,
"Oh, it's you." A deep husky voice could be heard.
Albert opened his eyes when he felt Mycroft–owner of the voice let go of his grip. The latter put his arm on his eyes and proceeded to act like nothing happened.
Albert Moriarty was speechless. He had at least expected an apology, but Mycroft didn't seem to bother regretting his action.
"I could do with some apology, Director." The brunette voiced his protest, all while tending on his wrist. Luckily, he's not so fragile that it gets sprained, but it’ll get bruised regardless. This Holmes guy is ruthless.
Come the dismissal with a curt, "Don't bother."
Albert doesn't appreciate getting the cold shoulder. Even when asking for an apology was just an act, another part of him was genuinely trying to be kind. The least Mycroft could do is reciprocate that gesture with the same decorum.
Maybe he really should have just listened to his voice of reason and visited on another day.
They remained silent for a while, neither initiated a conversation.
Honestly speaking, Albert was expecting to get kicked out the moment Mycroft woke up and saw him barging into the office uninvited. But instead he got left alone unattended. He didn't even know whether his presence was needed or not at this moment, yet instead of answers he only met with silence that grew more awkward the more time passed by.
He started to feel nervous.
Suddenly he wondered, was Mycroft really asleep even?
"I thought you were sleeping," he confessed.
"I was." Mycroft replied promptly.
Albert chuckled, Mycroft answered with the tone that says everyone has reflexes for catching someone's hand while they’re asleep, it almost convinced the eldest Moriarty.
And all those admirable reflexes, where did they come from? When exactly did it start? Could it be that younger Holmes was a little rascal who liked to pull pranks on his big brother in his sleep? A mental image of Mycroft's sleeping face painted terribly with charcoal by Sherlock came to mind, it was so amusing that Albert had to stop himself from giggling.
There’s also a grimmer possibility, like the said all too familiar assassination attempts, that one is barely laughable.
Albert rested his head against folded arms atop the sofa, right near Mycroft's side.
"Should I leave you be, then? Perhaps I was rudely interrupting." He said teasingly.
"Hm." Came the reply.
Albert couldn’t believe he’s almost offended by just a hum. To be fair he did ask to leave by his own accord, but Mycroft could at least pretend to care or be bothered. Albert was half-joking at first, yet at the end of the day Albert did visit him without prior notice, Mycroft is usually very particular about this and Albert would take a lecturing scold any day rather than being dismissed.
He can’t help but feel hurt from his noble pride, it’s the last thing other people do when they know they are being visited by Earl Moriarty himself.
But it could be that Mycroft was just very tired and didn't have the energy left to reciprocate the playfulness.
Alright, so be it then. Albert won't even bother to warn him about the door, by now he must have realised it himself anyway. Albert stood up from his spot, but before he could leave, he felt a tug at the hem of his suit.
"On a second thought, I'd rather you stay here." Mycroft said with his morning voice.
"Oh?" Albert raised an eyebrow—a change of heart so quickly? While it was not an apology that he wanted, Albert did feel less offended. And by the kindness of his great heart, he shall grant even that half-assed wish.
Mycroft sat up straight on his sofa to give Albert some space. After a small yawn he patted the seat beside him and said, "I could use some company." Like he’s not even trying to hide being half-assed.
Albert just grimacedly smiled and answered, "Well then." There's no point in returning now. The earl sighed as he took the spot gracefully, although bitterly.
‘Some company’ huh? Albert will show him the pride of being one hell of a company many would die for. Mycroft WILL appreciate his grant company and WILL regret taking it for granted.
Mycroft’s first mistake was thinking he could get away with brushing Albert off easily. First of all, he's wrong. Second of all, if he attempts to make small talk from this point on, Albert will be the one to dismiss him. It’s only fair.
And yet, the one thing Albert didn’t foresee happening happened, Mycroft's next move was to lay down on Albert's thighs and took his time leisurely. Surely it won’t be out of place for Albert to almost yelp yet manage to just sharply flinch, but his neck hurt from barely stopping his heart jumping out from his throat, though.
Today Mycroft's unpredictability was through the roof, to the point it made Albert feel really jumpy. He couldn't help but wonder if Mycroft did it on purpose.
"Director, this is?" Albert smiled through it while asking for a well-deserved explanation.
"I'd like to carry on with my sleep. Meanwhile, you could wake me up if someone comes and visits me." Mycroft replied with the ever so dismissive tone.
Oh, how Albert felt like a fool for even bothering to ask. Mycroft hasn't had enough of treating him less than his rank, now he's going to act like Albert was some sort of talking pillow.
Albert strained his facial muscles for the most polite smile he managed to pull today, it deserves some kind of award. "I don't think that's a very wise decision, Director. Mind you, yesterday I-"
Albert was about to mansplain to the other guy how masterfully he revealed his secret identity yesterday, being London's most feared figure and still freely roams around the city, but it was cut short by Mycroft’s abrupt "Can't you do what you're told?" line.
If rupturing a vein is audible to human ears, Albert swore he heard them burst in his temples. He took a long, deep breath to calm himself. It finally clicked to him that Mycroft was doing it on purpose, and yet he kept falling for it.
And Mycroft’s last line struck a chord, right where it’s off. Albert IS a part of MI6, head of the operation even. The pride and worth of a soldier is acting out orders without questions. To be provoked that he can’t do even such a basic thing is…
"Of course I can, dear Director. I've done tasks far more daunting than just watching a beast sleep in the past." Albert made himself clear.
He looked into the director dead in the eyes, full emphasis on 'watching a beast sleep' in case Mycroft suddenly felt like purposefully missing it.
"Good. You can start by actually stop talking." Mycroft responded with his drill sergeant tone.
At this point, Albert had no more mental capacity left for arguing. He watched dejectedly as Mycroft changed position on his thighs for a more comfortable laying position. He kept watching as Mycroft closed his eyes and actually drifted off to sleep.
Just like that, Albert did end up as his nap pillow.
Thinking back Albert could have easily avoided being in this situation if he’d just chosen to not listen to his ego for once. But not listening is one thing, he apparently has something else he has to keep in mind. Basically ever they both have been having a petty mind game between the two of them–the first one to get flustered over nothing will end up losing. And the second thing Albert hates in the world after corrupt nobles, is admitting an easy defeat. Similarly, Mycroft also has an extreme competitive streak, so they both have been pretending to have level-headed composure while burning inside from turmoil since forever. Albert swore on his family name he won’t be the first to crack.
They have been going at it since as long as they've known each other—a little mind game of fishing each other's reaction. It serves as a fun activity to pass time, and despite being an unusual thing to bond with, they get along with it just fine. And though it has become something they will both never come to admit, they do think of it fondly.
It also served as a good temporary escape from reality for both sides. With Mycroft, Albert rarely has to think about how rotten and corrupt the outside world is or the fact that he has his sins and burdens to carry. To Mycroft, Albert serves as a far more interesting opponent or challenge than a table full of paperwork and ink on any day.
Albert sighed, why did suddenly he started viewing their interactions in the past through a retrospective lens? Though it was only for a short while, it was fun while it lasted. And Albert couldn't bring himself to think about what might become of them in the future. He has some ideas, with the most probability not being kind on his side. As far as he knows only a bleak future awaits him. And he doesn't know–he doesn't want to know–how his doom would affect the ever so nonchalant director of his.
Albert could feel Mycroft slightly moving in his sleep, pulling him out of his melancholy. Mycroft's expression still hasn't changed from how it was before;resting and yet restless, it only added to Albert's misery.
Albert stared at the empty ceiling, wishing he could just sleep off these troubled feelings, but he remembered that he has a duty.
He has an important mission to carry.
____
It took a while for Mycroft to wake up from his sleep.
"Rise and shine, sunshine~" Albert greeted him with an awfully cheerful cadence. It sure was a nice and warm gesture, but Mycroft noticed there were traces of tears that betrayed the expression from the corner of Albert's eyes.
But why would he cry though?
"...What time is it?" Mycroft tried not to think too much about it or act like he noticed. Albert can talk about it if he wants to, but Mycroft won't press him over it. It could be just tears Albert got from yawning for all he knows. Instead of waiting for a response, Mycroft took out the pocket watch from his suit and looked at the time.
20 minutes, he has been sleeping for 20 minutes.
"I overslept…," he groaned. Almost in like a reprimanding manner to the Earl for not waking him up earlier.
"Well, I think you shouldn't make it a big of a deal." Albert replied, dismissively. Mycroft could see that Albert was smirking, and then he continued, "In my defense, you rarely take any rest, if not at all. I think a little break is warranted."
That was very cute (cute?) of him to be concerned over Mycroft's well-being; the sight doesn't suit him. Mycroft mentally stopped himself from grinning and instead just nodded along with a silent 'hm'.
Mycroft sat up straight and did some little stretches. While tending to his neck, he saw from the corner of his eyes that Albert was sitting completely still and was slightly shaking.
Could it be...? Albert continuing his cry?
...
Or maybe….
...
Mycroft put his hand on Albert's left thigh and roughly squeezed it,
"hhGHAAAHH--!!"
Albert groaned in pain and quickly smacked Mycroft's hand away from his thigh. He bit his lip so as to drown his grunt and then hissed through his teeth. He shook his left leg by tapping it lightly on the floor to distribute the stinging pain that was forcefully spread by the grab.
It took him a while to settle down completely, and the first thing he did after he managed was to glare at Mycroft.
"Hey, Mr. Magnanimous Director? What, was that for?"
Albert once again took every strength on his face muscle to not strain from pulling a grimacing smile so much. But Mycroft didn't show a sign of being concerned, he found it amusing instead. Despite everything, Albert still does not yield to every reason leading to his defeat in their mind game. That mental fortitude is admirable.
"Hmph, I still can't believe you really didn't move, and let me sleep on your lap for 20 minutes straight." He teased further, knowing full well it'd only further aggravate the count. But that was his goal from the start,
"Well, unlike someone else that is my only company in this room, I actually have a knack for being nice." Albert snarked, Mycroft had seen that coming.
Albert huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He leaned back on the couch, while adding to what Mycroft didn't see coming this time,
"Director. Do you know you didn’t even look like you were resting? The face you made when you were asleep was… haunting. It’s like you've had never slept while knowing peace. If you told me you were awake this entire time and didn’t sleep a wink, I’d believe you. I thought… the least I could do was to not disturb you."
Huh, did Mycroft hear that right? Was Albert “Lord of the Crime” Moriarty being considerate for his sake? Is he still dreaming? He didn't remember seeing a dream in his sleep.
Mycroft looked for any hint in Albert's face that could be a tell Albert was lying, but he found none. Instead, he found that the light in Albert's eyes shined softly, and there was a slight frown in his eyebrows that suggested a genuine concern.
Oh, he cares, and it’s not just pretense, but he cares a lot. Mycroft puzzled on how he was supposed to deal with it. There were only a few people in Mycroft's life who genuinely cared about him, two of whom were his family. Mycroft had never minded the small numbers; he prefers it the way they are as he also shows his favour to only a small selection of people. He won't bother paying attention more than necessary to anyone else who didn't earn his recognition. It's only a waste of time, space and energy.
And yet. A complete stranger, borderline Empire’s enemy like Albert has found a way to express his care for Mycroft.
Someone like Albert who also only shows his true face to select few people.
Why does it have to feel so warm?
"I see," Mycroft said, after finally finding his ability to talk again. "Thank you" He continued, this time with a tone full of sincerity.
Mycroft couldn't see what face Albert was making, but he assumed his earnestness had also caught Albert off guard.
He was about to change the topic because he started to feel uneasy from the awkwardness, but Albert finally responded, "You're welcome, Mycroft."
Huh?
"Did you just say my name?" Mycroft raised his head to look at Albert in the eyes.
"Hmm, did I? You must've misheard it." The earl retorted with his usual polite yet cunning smile.
Ah, as expected, this look is what puts him at ease and fits Albert the most. Mycroft couldn't help but grin back.
Mycroft shrugged off the uneasiness from a moment ago. He saw that Albert was still avoiding moving his legs excessively; the pins and needles must have still resided.
"You can stay here..." Mycroft suggested, too late to realise that his voice might have dangerously sounded much like a desperate plea, "....until that subsides." He saved it at the last minute by adding excuses.
Mycroft saw that Albert raised one of his eyebrows. Oh no, did Albert catch on to his real intent? Mycroft was careful not to show any reaction, it can be a dead give away if by any chance Albert still hasn’t caught on.
"Thank you, that's very generous of you." Albert spoke, seemingly clueless of Mycroft's excessive cautiousness. And although he didn't catch on in the end, Albert did not let Mycroft sighed a breath of relief, "If I didn't know better, I thought you'd actually have me walk out of this room limping."
What’s that seemingly scornful remark?
Oh, is this his attempt to get back at Mycroft because Mycroft brushed him off earlier?
How amusing,
Too bad his opponent is Mycroft and he already has the perfect answer, "I would do it if not for giving people the wrong idea."
Albert appeared to be irritated at first, and then confused the next second. It took a while for him to finally get the joke,
"Now, whatever do you mean by tha---Oh..."
Albert's cheeks were showing a rosy colour when he finally got the joke. Mycroft let out a small chuckle.
"Or, if that's up to your fancy, Lord Moriarty, who am I to stop you?" Mycroft further teased him. The prospect of a young famous noble like Albert James Moriarty getting caught in a crude scandal–with a man and government officer of all people–and how many maidens' hearts would break simply because of it.
Albert really dodged a bullet there.
"No. Thank. You."
The earl replied with exasperation.
____
"Thank you again, for today." Mycroft said to Albert when he saw Albert off.
Albert stopped in his tracks just before he got inside the cab,
"You're very welcome." He replied, before turning around to face Mycroft, "Though I'd appreciate it if you would just sleep on the sofa next time. I think it works just fine?" He added with a light hearted jab to what happened between them earlier.
"Next time? You really think I'll be sleeping again next time?" Mycroft countered with one raised eyebrow, a look he has when he feels challenged.
"I wouldn't count on it, though if I were you I won't be so certain" Albert smiled from the small victory of getting Mycroft riled up, he then turned his back to Mycroft and climbed to the cab.
"Don't bother. I'll make sure to take plenty of rest back at home so I won't have to burden you the second time." Mycroft walked closer to hold the cab's door for Albert, and to also show his grin,
"I'll be counting on you for that then, Director." Albert replied with his usual polite noble smile.
"Take care, Albert." Mycroft lifted the brim of his hat with his staff, and then nodded to the coachman before closing the door.
A whicker can be heard from the horses before they clopped away from the street. Mycroft stayed until the cart was no longer in his sight.
He pulled a cigarette to lit, dragged it and then puffed the smoke to the sky.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he looks forward to their dubbed 'next time'.