Mycroft exhaled a long breath of air as if he had just taken a drag on a cigarette, "Mary, what is she talking about?"

Irene smiled thinly, "Yes, Mary shall you tell him or should I?" After a few moments of silence Irene pouted. "Well, I guess that leaves me to tell Mycroft just exactly what he is falling in love with. Mycroft, Mary and I are creatures from a different time, we are doomed to wander through the centuries, we are the lost ones, leftover remnants from another time, when gods and spirits ruled the world. Everything was so much simpler then."

Mycroft leaned forward, "So, you and Mary are immortal? Like vampires?"

Irene chuckled, "No, not exactly, we are a combination of immortal and human. Oh, that's right Mary has chosen to become mortal, for love, God help her."

Mycroft looked confused as he looked over at Mary, "What is she talking about? You became mortal for John?"

Irene sighed in frustration, "Mary, how can you stand it? You should have fallen in love with a woman, thereby bypassing the small mindedness of the male gender; it is their curse, not to realize the truth until it is too late. No, the soft Doctor Watson, whose heart has always belonged to Sherlock, is not the individual that Mary gave up her privileges for."

Mycroft sat forward with a look of triumph, "Wait, a minute if you are immortal, how come Sherlock had to come and rescue you?"

Irene laughed, it was an unpleasant sound that sent chills up Mycroft's spine, "Sherlock, is such a clever boy about some things and other things he is useless for he rescued me because he thought I needed him. Sherlock will never be at the side of the one who truly needs him for matters of the heart have always escaped him, and as old age racks his body, he will weep with regret at what he threw away with both hands."

Mycroft rubbed the back of his neck in frustration for he had a one track mind, "So, who was the lover that Mary gave up her immortally for? Was it Magnusson?"

Irene threw back her head and openly laughed this time, "Magnusson, no not Magnusson, he just used her abilities for his own nefarious purposes. Mary, tell him why make him suffer?"

Mary's face had turned a deathly white, as she jumped up and ran out into the burning sands of the desert. She ran past several surprised female servants she ran until she collapsed in exhaustion under a palm tree and she wept like she had never wept before. Mycroft jumped up and followed her, ignoring the sand as it burned the bottoms of his feet, sliding to his knees as he knelt beside Mary, taking her in his arms. When she had wept until she could weep no longer, Mycroft took her chin and gently turned her tear stained face upwards. "Mary, tell me, please tell me what has brought this heartbreak upon you."

"Mycroft," Mary whispered as she kissed him fully on the lips, letting her tongue linger in the places he loved best and after a few moments she faced him, "Mycroft, it's you; you are the one I have given up everything for. Mycroft I love you."

Mycroft pulled away and looked at Mary in disbelief, "Me? You love me? You must be mistaken for no one ever picks me. No one ever loves me; it's just not possible, is it?" Mycroft whispered in wonder as he bent back down to face Mary.

This time Mycroft kissed Mary first and was hardly surprised when Mary stuck her hand in the folds of his Egyptian attire, searching, searching, until she found his spot, Mycroft's spot, the spot that made his knees weak, as warmth pooled through his entire body. "Mary, I love you and I pledge my heart what there is of it to you, forever, Mary…" Mycroft said as his words trailed off into gasps of ecstasy. Both were so engrossed in pleasing each other that they failed to notice the black snake that slithered towards them.