Chapter 2
Gregory knew the house was empty. Mycroft had left about two hours after he was done with him. Afterward, he simply lost consciousness. So he was certainly startled to see Mycroft's assistant in the lounge when he exited the bathroom.
Anthea, or whatever name she chose to go by today, stood up from the sofa, and for once, her eyes were away from her Blackberry for more than 10 seconds.
He felt his body instinctively tense up. He didn't know what his widely dilated pupils had betrayed in that split second, but her smile faltered. His mind screamed damage control, forced his body to stay still, though his body wanted nothing more than to bolt.
Anywhere would be fine, as long as no one would ever see him.
"Mr Holmes left for Russia about three hours ago. There was an urgent matter that needed his attention." She trailed off. Confusion was clearly written on her beautiful features.
In the handful of times Gregory had met the young woman, she had always reminded him somewhat of Mycroft, radiating mystery and confidence, only more feminine and delicate. Of course, she wasn't capable of exerting the same level of authority and power in every movement she made. This was the first time he had seen her looking so uncertain.
Uncertainty was good. She was clearly clueless, and therefore he was safe.
He was safe.
He forced himself to relax, letting his smile resurface.
"I wasn't expecting to see anyone else here." He gestured at himself, allowing Anthea to take in his still dripping hair, the bath robe that was hastily tied around his body, "Otherwise I'd make sure I was more appropriately dressed in the presence of a lady."
He forced fake embarrassment into his eyes, willing them to be soft and persuasive. He had been told by many that his eyes were his most attractive feature, and they were capable getting him whatever he wanted in the world. That was clearly a lie, because life clear never worked in his favour. Still he knew what he was capable of.
It worked like a charm, because Anthea clearly bought his little performance. She relaxed immediately. "He asked me to pass on his apologies for leaving without informing you in person."
His laughter was accompanied by her chuckles. They were both amused, but only he knew that it was for different reasons. She probably saw this as a clumsy romantic gesture. And he was once again bewildered by that man and the way he chose to pursue things.
Like how the man had chosen to make his proposal to him, the previous night.
Gregory was on his way back home when he was politely asked to get in a sleek, black car. He was then driven to one of the most expensive restaurants in London. He didn't need to see the menu to know his monthly salary as a copper was probably just enough to cover a meal there. Hell, he would never be allowed in under normal circumstances, with his badly wrinkled chain-store brand shirt and trousers and muddy shoes. Chasing criminals around London all day long did not leave much room for personal vanity.
He didn't think anything was too out of the ordinary, because he was no stranger to being kidnapped at random hours of the day and questioned about the health and sanity of a certain consulting detective. This type of setting was certainly was a first, but not enough to alarm him yet.
Just like all the other locations he had been taken to, the whole place was empty with no patrons other than the man who was waiting for him. Apparently, the man had booked the whole place just so he could have a private talk with Gregory in a reasonably pleasant environment.
If he didn't know better, he would almost think the man was trying to express his romantic interest in him. But he wasn't that naive.
Mycroft had said he found him interesting. He liked Gregory's dedication to his job, his kindness and patience with his brother. But his eyes said so much more – dark hungers and unspoken needs.
Gregory was no stranger to these emotions; he had been subjected to them all the time in his younger years. The ability to rouse these feelings was how he made his living working for one of the most expensive escort agencies in London. But that was a lifetime ago. A lifetime he would rather stay buried.
He was familiar with how these games were played out. He had been taken to some really posh establishments and private parties during those years. His clients sought his company: pleasant chat over wine or dinner with light flirting, before moving to main event. These things were merely adding some variation to the usual routine. He understood how things worked, knew what to expect.
But Mycroft was different. There was something more in his piercing gaze that made Gregory's internal alarm go straight off. He forced himself to sit through the meal, knowing better than to run before he fully understood the man's intention.
The elder of the Holmes brothers explained that he was after a long term partner, someone he could spend his spare time with, someone who shared his interests in certain type of sexual indulgence. Of course, being Mycroft, a man with the most prestigious possible upbringing, his words had been proper and polite, while leaving no room for misunderstanding.
He placed specific emphasis on words such as "a lover he could trust", "respectable career", "a solid team that will go far in the next few years" throughout the conversation. He was diplomatically putting Gregory's reputation, career, and team on the line. He would have applauded this performance if it wasn't directed at him. He had never met another man who was more capable of making threats into an art form. David certainly never came close.
And they were not empty threats.
If he wanted to, Mycroft could dig out a lot of dirt on him, much more than what David was ever capable of. Gregory knew better than to believe the man was just a minor government official, despite how he introduced himself. After all, he had seen the Commissioner being bent to his will and heard rumours about men being completely erased from all records, like they never existed in the first place. Power, connections, a strong will, and a brilliant mind made this man incredibly dangerous.
Mycroft was a man who had the whole world at his feet. The funny thing was he almost seemed to be genuinely uncertain about Gregory's answer.
Like Gregory had the option of saying no.
He wasn't that stupid.
So he forced himself to stay still, when the man cover his hand with his own, and say yes when he was invited to his place to have a drink afterward.
What was done was done. He swallowed his bitter thoughts, forcing himself to see humour in all these insanities.
Anthea passed on a set of keys to him before taking her leave. They were the keys to this house: modest in size, but at the most reclusive part of Kensington for ultimate privacy - gesture of permanence and commitment.
A way of telling him he wasn't going to get out of this easily.
He understand his new role completely - a sexual outlet under the disguise of a lover, one who must comply enthusiastically with every one of his master's demands.
Gregory was nothing but a source of amusement to Mycroft.
TBC