p align="justify"This was intended to be a very quick thing, nothing more than just a nice one-shot but it got out of hand and I've decided to post it in chapters, hoping it to be as likable as it was for me when this idea first came to my /The lengths one goes when obsessed with this bloody MorMor ship...Enjoy!/p
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p align="justify"That night was darker than any other in quite some time. Humidity hung in the air, staining the buildings and streets of New London. And right outside the morgue of St. Bart's hospital, footsteps echoed through the halls, sweat slightly beaded foreheads and turned shirts into sticky fabrics as a body was being transported as stealthily as possible to the back door of the hospital. A dark night indeed./p
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p align="justify"It was 5 o'clock pm and the streets were bustling. Steam cars crowded the streets and airships transported their busy passengers to different destinations. People in leather vests, fancy hats and pocket watches in their hands ran in and out of places, cafés at the top of their capacities. It was precisely in one of them that Mycroft Holmes intended to meet his acquaintance for a cup of tea just before going back to the office to finish work. The tall man entered the café with his usual elegant demeanour, scanning the place with a hawk-like gaze until he found the Professor sitting by one of the few windows of the local./p
p align="justify""Professor, my apologies for keeping you waiting, but you know public service is never reliable when it comes to time", said Mycroft as he took off his gloves in order to give his interlocutor a proper handshake. The man in front of him didn't get up but accepted the offered hand./p
p align="justify""Don't worry, Myc. I know how busy it can get"/p
p align="justify"Mycroft raised a brow at the familiar diminutive, but sat nevertheless, right on time to order the garcon a nice cuppa. He had never been a man to waste time so once he was settled in his chair in front of the Professor, he went straight to the point./p
p align="justify""So, I've heard you've been making remarkable advances in your scientific research, is that correct?"/p
p align="justify"A smile spread across the dark-haired man's face. "I have indeed, that's exactly why I called you up today. But first tell me, how's Sherlock?"/p
p align="justify"Mycroft's body tensed up almost imperceptibly, yet he played along. "Very well, thank you. As you already know, my brother is always interested in augmenting humanity's knowledge in whatever matters he deems necessary"/p
p align="justify""Just like me", finished the Professor with another smile right before producing a bundle of papers from the back of his trousers. "These are the latest plans. Try not to stain them, please"/p
p align="justify"The ginger scrunched his nose lightly at that last comment and started skimming through the papers in front of him. He had always felt strangely fascinated by the Professor, not in the way Sherlock did, obviously, but it was undeniable that the man was different. At first sight, he could seem like quite a normal bloke, wearing fashionable vests and shirts with the sleeves rolled up. But under that dishevelled appearance, the man was a neat-freak, Mycroft could tell. He didn't even have to look at his impeccable notes or his perfectly measured plans to know what he was facing./p
p align="justify""Impressive", he muttered almost breathlessly as he slid his fingers over the perfect lines and intricate calculations./p
p align="justify"The Professor was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed and a smug grin on his face. "And it's not even as expensive as it looks"/p
p align="justify"Mycroft found it hard to hold back how pleased he was with the progress achieved. Automatons were becoming more and more popular these days and the government could really use a high-quality model, one that apparently this short but intelligent man could provide. He turned a few more pages until he got to the segment of the materials. Cogs, springs, cables and other gadgets figured in a list scribbled down in not-so-neat handwriting. It did seem reasonably affordable and Mycroft was just about to smile when he got to the end of it./p
p align="justify""I see why you called me now, but you shall know that I have no intention on providing you with such elements" said the taller man, furrowing his brow./p
p align="justify""Oh, but you haven't even let me explain", retorted the dark-haired man./p
p align="justify""I'm not interested in hearing any explanations. I've seen enough. Develop something just as good without it and I'll reconsider my posture. In the meantime, I'm afraid we will not require your services". The tea that had been brought while Mycroft skimmed through the plans had gone cold. The Professor's gaze had turned just as icy./p
p align="justify""You don't understand. I know why you like my work. Because you know that I'm not afraid of going as far as needed to get something to function, and you know as well how big this can be. You only have to let me put the prototype together…"/p
p align="justify""I don't want to know, and I'm certainly not going to cooperate with something illegal" responded Mycroft, putting his gloves back on and readying himself to leave./p
p align="justify""But you've seen the calculations! Nothing can go wrong, I've already been experimenting on pigs and it works just fine. Do you think I'd be as careless as to not contemplate the risks?"/p
p align="justify""It's not the technical risks I'm afraid of. I know how brilliant you can be, that's why I'm not turning you to the police, Professor. But as your friend and mentor, I advise you go back to safe territory. Have a good day". Mycroft put his hat on and was about to get up when he felt pressure over his wrist. The Professor was holding him down, a glint of something in his eyes he couldn't quite put his finger on./p
p align="justify""I just need one subject to prove you…" Mycroft removed his hand forcefully. "Are you out of your mind? Automatons are not meant to be made out of dead bodies, so I suggest you steer away from such ambitions, James. You know what happened to Cornish"./p
p align="justify"That last statement seemed to deflate all of James' hopes on getting help from his interlocutor. He slouched back on his chair, looking out the window as Mycroft collected his umbrella and exited the café. A dark-chocolate gaze followed him until he disappeared into the crowd. But the owner of that gaze wasn't demoralised at all; on the contrary, a lazy smile spread across his face. Because there were few things that could really bring James Moriarty down, and there were even fewer that could surprise him./p
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p align="justify"Author Notes/p
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p align="justify"*"You know what happened to Cornish": Robert Cornish was a 20th Century scientist who performed experiments on how to reanimate corpses; probably his biggest success was bringing back to life a dog, Lazarus IV, 5 minutes after its decease. Still, his progress wasn't exactly appreciated by the scientific community, let alone public opinion, especially when he tried to start using humans for his experiments, more specifically convicts on death row, bringing whole new issues to the debate, both ethical and legal. Quite a bizarre but interesting story./p
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p align="justify"I know it's not much but I'd still love to hear what you think. Cheers!/p