Greg loved these moments. Him and Mycroft, snuggled in their bed, warm, happy, just the two of them. Greg lay in Mycroft's arms, sneaking a peak here and then at his face, enjoying looking at Mycroft in this rare moments of serenity. Mycroft's mind was like a huge factory, almost always working at full speed, so seeing him like this, blank and relaxed, was a privilege that only Greg had. Today, however, there was a small frown on Mycroft's face and Greg didn't fail to notice it.
- You're thinking. – Greg accused him gently.
- Oh? – Mycroft lazily opened his eyes, feigning innocence.
- Don't play clever with me, something's bothering you. – Greg pocked him in the ribs – Let's hear it.
- Oh, it is nothing, darling, I am just..thinking. – Mycroft sighed.
- Exactly. Is it one of those things you do, when you're trying to guess the future and prepare yourself for all outcomes?
- You know me too well – Mycroft smiled. However, worry was mixed with that smile, and Greg knew that something big was pestering Mycroft.
- Is it Sherlock?
- Indirectly.
- Oh, it's the third man, the..half-brother – Greg was not comfortable using wither the ominous nickname "Joker" neither the man's real name, Jack-one seemed so unreal, the other was too real.
- Indeed it is. – Mycroft ruffled his own hair a bit with his free hand – He is very unpredictable, I do not see where the whole situation is going.
- Yeah, I see what you mean. With him, it could literally be anything – Greg agreed – Can't you just..deport him? Ship his ass wherever he came from?
- If that was a possibility, I already would have – Mycroft admitted – However, there are a number of factors that deny me that solution. He could always simply come back, and he could be offended and cause me trouble. Also, whether one likes it or not, he is family. And now, as if things are not complicated enough, there is the issue of Molly.
- What's going on in that department?- Greg asked curiously.
- Jack actually went to London yesterday, even though I told him to stay at the Holmes Manor, and he is at her place. I got it bugged, of course, and my people are listening in, both to get to know what his plans are and to keep Molly safe. I actually have a team standing by in a flat just a floor above hers, but as for now, there is no need to intervene.
- Oh? – Greg felt that juicy stuff is about to be revealed.
- They..enjoy themselves. – Mycroft said, a bit embarrassed, looking at Greg's eyes getting wider – A lot, to be perfectly honest. They actually seem to be getting along nicely.
- That's..ok, I guess? – Greg was not sure.
- For as long as it lasts. But who can know if he will snap and harm her? I do now know what his intentions are. I cannot know if he is faking it – right now, it seems as though he is positively smitten with her..like he is in love. I do not know this man enough, I cannot predict his plans. Maybe…if I fed him the information he wants to have, maybe that would make him go back to Gotham.
- What does he want to know? – Greg asked, knowing it was something valuable.
- He wants to know the identity of Batman. – Mycroft whispered.
- Oh boy – Greg was astonished. If Joker knew who the Batman was, what would he do? That would surely be bad news for the entire city of Gotham. Then, Greg gasped – Wait, you know who the Batman is?
- I do. – Mycroft nodded simply.
- How? – Greg asked with amazement.
- You know I cannot discuss such things – Mycroft frowned a bit – Let me tell you like this. I have known who he is for a long time, even before we ever met.
- You've met him?! – Greg was now in full fanboy-mode.
- I have. – Mycroft smiled – Him and a lot of other people from all over the world, everybody who is somebody on our side.
- The British side? – Greg was confused.
- The side of good. – Mycroft said in a way that clearly indicated that the conversation was over.
- To think you could get any more awesome than you already are – Greg laughed and claimed a passionate kiss, embracing the man he loved. Then he started to giggle – Wait, just one more question and then I'm done.
- Gregory…- Mycroft rolled his eyes.
- Did he wear..the suit?
- He wore a suit. And now enough about this, there are more important issues that demand my immediate attention – he smirked, groping his fiancé in all the right places.
…
Meanwhile, Molly was cuddled in Jack's bearlike hug. They had a bit to eat and now they were relaxing on the couch. Molly was with them being silent, but her chatty guest was having none of that.
- So-uh..why don't ya tell me about your work, sweet humps? – he patted her behind.
- My work? There's really not much to tell about that – she played with his fingers, gently biting them here and there.
- Are you pulling the ol' liar-liar-pants-on-fire scheme on me? – he giggled – I'll put your pants on fire soon enough, dirty girl. Give a man some rest.
- Ok, ok – she giggled back – What do you want to know, exactly?
- Did you have some crazy cases, like did someone wake up during autopsy? Or like, did someone twitch or stuff?
- No one woke up, they were all dead – she said a bit more seriously – I had a few who twitched, though.
- Did you pee you pants? – he asked her conspiratively.
- I did not! – she yelped with indignation, then shrugged a bit – Ok, the first time, I cried out a bit..and jumped a bit.
- I bet ya did - Jack let out a satisfied laughter, then patted her behind again – I give it to ya, kiddo, I was not any better the first time it happened to me, whoa…
- How to you mean that.. – she started asking, then realizing how he came in contact with dead bodies.
- …on the other hand, he probably wasn't completely dead at that moment. Gave me a good thrill, though.
- It's really not a laughing matter – she said, a bit sternly – It is my profession, and I try to be as respectful as possible to my patients,
- You really think they care? They're, uh, dead.
- I care. – she said seriously, trying to make him realize that he should show some respect not only towards her job, but also her patients.
- It's strange, what you do – he nodded, agreeing with himself – Why did you choose that occupation? Don't like 'em talking?
She felt a bit insulted, but she wondered a bit, too. Honestly, of all the possibilities in medicine, why did she choose this field?
- Maybe it is because I'm a coward, you know- she sighed – You know, when they come to me, it's their last station. It's a bit eerie, bit also strangely calming. It's done by then, they're in no pain anymore. Nothing can go much worse than it already did. I don't see them suffer, I don't see them struggling to stay alive..I'm not responsible for them losing their lives.
- That's an interesting way to put it, though I wouldn't call you a coward because of that; it's not your job to save the world – he said.
- So – she started, knowing she had to ask him sooner or later – Why did you choose your..occupation?
She froze a bit, and slowly she turned to look at him. He watched her, his face giving nothing away.
- And would do I do? – he asked quietly.
After a few seconds that seemed like eternity, she managed to whisper – Chaos. That's what you do, as far as I understand.
- You put it so nicely – he smiled at her without the smile touching his eyes – You say chaos, but you think of murder, kidnappings, robberies, right?
- Right – she nodded. There was no point in lying to him, and she would insult his inteligence in trying to lie to him.
- Because. I. Can. – he smiled broadly at her, giving her the most honest answer he could find – I had so many people, shrinks, cops, criminals, victims, asking me that. I give them some story if I feel like it, but what I just told you, that's the most simple and most honest answer I can offer. Can you accept that?
