be gay do crime

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

The Disappearance of Lord Cecil Carfax, Act One:

"no bad days (when you're gone)"

The University of London was an impressive place, one that Jameson couldn't help but feel intimidated by as he approached it. It wasn't as if he considered himself dense in any manner—he'd managed to keep up with his lessons, after all, as well as was decent at absorbing the things William and the others taught him—but that had never extended into higher education, due to his circumstances. The more Jameson thought about it, the less upset he was for himself, and the more upset he was for any women who doubtless had the intelligence to succeed but were prevented from pursuing anything more due to the mere fact that they'd been born as they were. That Dr Burnett had ignored all such obstacles stacked in her way and pursued medical science just made her all the more impressive.

While such issues were no doubt important, Jameson could yet to do anything about them for the day—and he'd come to the university with a clear goal in mind, as well. Today was a day to visit William, and he'd packed a lunch as well to enjoy together, a recreation of their picnic menu from so many months ago, though he'd prepared biscuits instead of an all-out cake. It took a bit of referencing maps and asking for directions, but soon he made it to the mathematics department.

Since William was but a newer employee, he did not have a private office, instead utilising a shared space to handle talking with students and working on tasks like lesson planning and grading. He was also not present at the moment, since his current class was still in session for a bit longer, so Jameson sat down on a nearby seat in the hall, adjusted so he could keep his basket upon his lap, and settled in to wait.

In reality, it wasn't much time at all until William's class was scheduled to end, but the minutes felt much longer than they should have in his anticipation; Jameson almost regretted not bringing his journal or a book to pass the time, but he also suspected he wouldn't be able to concentrate upon the matter, either, so it seemed a moot point. Whenever the bell chimed to signal the end of the current lecture, Jameson kept glancing around, as if that would make William appear any faster. It, of course, didn't, but it did mean that the moment William rounded the corner of the hall heading towards the offices, Jameson was able to notice him, his heart fluttering with unmistakable joy.

As sharp as ever, William's gaze managed to catch upon Jameson, his own expression shifting from relaxed to a smile, and seeing that just warmed Jameson's soul all the further. "Jameson, I didn't expect you today—though take mind that this is not a complaint." Jameson pulled himself to his feet, closing the remaining distance between them. "I'd ask the reason for your visit, but the basket in your arms answers that well enough. I was just thinking about what to have for lunch, so this works out well."

"Well, you've been mentioning finding more interesting research these days, not to mention you've been eating much more at dinner than usual. I was concerned you've been skipping meals again to focus on study." William's answer was his smile with the lilt of awkwardness in his brows, which meant Jameson's conclusion had been right on the money. "Goodness gracious, William. It's a good thing I trusted my instincts and decided to come today."

"I assure you that I appreciate it very much. In fact, we shouldn't wait too long…would you mind taking a short walk around campus to find someplace to sit and eat? Most people have been staying inside due to the chill, so it will be easier to gain some privacy that way."

Jameson himself was one of such people who preferred to hide from the chill, but he couldn't deny that alone time with William was very much worth enduring the cold. Yes, they'd be in a semi-public area and wouldn't be able to use each other for warmth, but that was but a small sacrifice to make. "I have no objections. Did you have any particular spot in mind?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. Let me just drop off these lecture materials, then we can head over there right away."

With William's errand done, the two of them set off, Jameson right at his side. "Louis gave me permission to be out of the house as long as I liked," he said, "so I was also thinking that perhaps I could stay to watch a lecture, if it wouldn't be too much trouble?" He didn't know the process for such things, so he hoped that he wasn't making too unreasonable of a request.

"That should be fine, so long as you don't cause any mischief—which I doubt you would." At the very least, Jameson would strive not to cause any issues, a goal which seemed achievable given that he would doubtless be so enthralled by seeing a new side of William that he wouldn't have much time to think of doing anything but sitting and watching. "I do apologise, though. I kept meaning to invite you to come and visit at some point, but the correct opportunity never seemed to arise."

"We have been rather busy as of late." Even with summer over and the obligations of the social season complete, helping Alice had been a rather involved operation that had taken up any scrap of free time they'd been able to muster. It was, of course, worth the end result, but that didn't change the fact that free time seemed to be few and far between, and all the more so with Jameson's work and ill health coming one after the other. "I also thought about coming sooner, but I worried about intruding on any obligations you might have…"

William nodded, opening the door to head outside to the courtyard. For how quiet it was, it was hard to believe they were in the centre of London, the careful landscaping lending the place an almost country air. Jameson continued to look around as William led him along the path to wherever their final destination may be. "I appreciate the consideration, but rest assured, Jameson. Whenever you wish to visit me, it will not be an intrusion."

"I'm glad to hear it," Jameson said, and he was. He would still restrain himself—lest he find himself on campus every day William went to work—but the permission was there, so he need not hesitate should the urge strike him. "You know, I think I've gotten better at understanding what I want." Rather than having to sit and focus upon the task, Jameson's wishes often came to him without issue, almost to the point that some days he couldn't keep up with them all, though at least his journal kept track for him. William, who'd experienced much of that struggle alongside Jameson, nodded beside him. "Some things I think of once and then leave be, and others I find myself drawn to again and again. I'm not even scared to not try something, since I feel more comfortable with who I am." He gave William his own smile. "That said, the one thing that always comes to me in perfect clarity is that I wish to spend time at your side."

Even once Beauclerk was gone, his consultancy come to an end, Jameson doubted that much would change.

"I see," William said, and Jameson thought he looked the slightest bit pleased by Jameson's admission, though there was every chance Jameson was reading him wrong. "I, too, find myself wishing for your company…ah, there's the spot I was talking about." Up ahead was a bench tucked between some trees, the leaves of which were a brilliant mix of autumn orange, red, and yellow. Most of the dried leaves upon the ground seemed to have been raked away by the campus gardeners, but there were still some fresh-fallen ones across the sidewalk. William brushed a few off the bench so that they'd both have room to sit, though it was a great struggle for Jameson not to press himself up against William's side. "Now, how about we enjoy those sandwiches you went through the trouble to make for us?"

Jameson hefted up the picnic basket, placing it between them so that there was a socially acceptable amount of space between them. "It wasn't any trouble at all." Sure, Jameson had yet to reach Louis's level of proficiency with such matters, but it was a simple enough meal to make. "In fact, I might've prepared too many, so don't feel too pressured to have them all…"

"I see. So you became so excited that you didn't think to limit how much you were making. Also that the basket is almost full…there's even more at home that you left behind for the others to have for lunch?" Jameson didn't bother to deny it, not whenever William's deduction was right on the money. William's following chuckle was delightful, though. "Well, no matter the results, I'm glad to see that you're enjoying yourself, dear."

The use of the term of endearment in public—no matter how private their current location was—was almost enough for Jameson to choke on his sandwich. He managed to make it through without any incident, but he did regret not bringing along anything to drink. William helped out by patting him on the back. "Apologies. You managed to catch me off guard."

"That was not my intent, I assure you. It just happened to slip out…" Even William looked a bit sheepish, making Jameson believe it was a genuine mistake. It was so unlike him that Jameson couldn't help but feel a bit satisfied that he'd caused it.

"I…don't mind." Jameson did still worry, as he'd done before, that associating with him might be something that could have a negative impact on William's reputation, but it wasn't like he had any right to retreat over such a thing—not whenever they'd already argued twice about William doing such a thing. "Though I do wonder…earlier, you said you think of sharing my company as well. Is that true?"

William had just taken another bite from his sandwich, so Jameson had expected to take some time to hear a response, but he couldn't help but feel as if it took much longer than necessary for William to swallow and say, "It is." Jameson took in a faint breath. "Even whenever we share a room and see each other every day, I cannot quite get enough of you." Oh, Jameson's face was starting to burn with heat, even amongst the chill, and he busied himself with his own sandwich as a distraction. It didn't accomplish much. "Are you feeling alright? Perhaps I shouldn't have brought you out into the chill so soon after you've just recovered…"

Jameson shook his head. "That's nothing to worry about. I'm alright." In fact, he was more than alright, despite his embarrassment. Receiving such attention was enough to boost his mood further. "I'm very happy right now, William. I promise you that."

"I see. I'm very happy, too." That sentiment was enough for them both as they continued to eat, getting about halfway through the contents of the picnic basket before deigning to share the others with any of William's coworkers who were interested. From there, William returned to the lecture hall, where Jameson settled into the back row, allowing William's melodious voice lull him into a state of further contentment. Even as he reminded students of their upcoming exam to the sound of many, many groans, Jameson couldn't help but smile. And whenever William offered to take him out to tea one the way home?

It was the perfect day, as far as Jameson was concerned, and he hoped that William felt the same.

October, 1875

It had been of no surprise whatsoever that upon receiving word that Moriarty Manor was in the process of installing both a greenhouse and a garden that Cecil sent back an immediate response, asking for permission to visit. After some short coordination with Louis to confirm it wouldn't get in the way of anything, Jameson sent back some dates for sharing lunch and tea, Cecil going with the soonest available option. Jameson had no intention of judging his friend's enthusiasm; with the social season over, Cecil's family had left their London townhouse for their manor proper in the country, and so it was much harder to share each other's company on a whim.

As such, Jameson was more than excited to see Cecil again, and it was clear from the moment he arrived in his family's carriage that Cecil shared the sentiment. He waited until they were inside the gates to do so, but, once he had the chance, Cecil wasted no time in pulling Jameson into a strong hug, which Jameson returned with great enthusiasm.

"You have no idea how wonderful it is to see you again," Cecil said, following Jameson inside. As the travel time was just enough to be inconvenient, they'd agreed upon Cecil staying over for several nights, so he'd brought a bag along with him. "I do love my garden back home, but even that isn't enough to occupy me all the time. And my parents were rather disappointed in me for not taking any interest in the ladies they wish for me to marry. It's been rather frustrating. I…got permission to stay for so long because they believe a good relationship with the Moriartys will be beneficial. Ah, please don't take that the wrong way! I did just come to enjoy your company…"

"My friend, nothing you've done has ever given me the impression that you were attempting to use me for such a thing." If that were the case, Cecil would be a far more excellent actor than Jameson himself would ever be able to manage pulling off. Jameson offered a smile. "I know very well just how complicated worrying about social politics can make matters. If taking advantage of such a misunderstanding made it easier for you to come and visit me, then by all means do so."

Cecil's relief was palpable, his smile just the slightest bit awkward but full of gratitude, nonetheless. "Thank you, Jameson. With all the pressure at home, it's sometimes hard to remember that not everything has to be done for profit or power." Given his own circumstances, Jameson had at least avoided such pressures, but he could imagine that it couldn't be pleasant by any means. "Still, I am excited to hear about the upcoming greenhouse. You say it's almost done?"

"Just about, but they're still handling the finishing touches. I do believe it will be completed while you're here, but I had planned to take you out there once we finished dropping off your bags. Like I mentioned before, we don't have much in the way of servants, so we'll need to handle that ourselves." Having lit up at the prospect of heading out to the garden, Cecil didn't look bothered at all by the slight detour. "The guest rooms are on the second floor, so if you'll follow me."

Cecil fell into step with Jameson, the two of them ascending the staircases. A prickle of embarrassment snuck into Jameson as they passed the entrance to the west wing, where he and William shared their bedroom, but he continued on and upwards, their footsteps echoing throughout the entryway.

"I'm impressed at how well kept the place is," Cecil said, looking around as they turned into the guest room hall. "If you hadn't told me so before, I wouldn't have suspected that you have just yourselves to rely on—oh, though I do suppose you mentioned that Fred has been helping besides just the garden right?"

"Yes, and he's been excellent to have around." Not just for his household assistance, but for having someone else around that Jameson could enjoy spending time with and taking care of. That said, the addition of someone else helping with the chores was a reminder of how simpler life could be if they had more staff around, but that was something they couldn't compromise on. "Even so, you'll find that with a bit of snooping that there are plenty of unused rooms that don't receive as excellent of treatment. That said, Louis worked very hard to ensure that everything was in incredible shape for your visit, so I'd perhaps avoid doing so if you don't want to break the illusion."

Cecil chuckled. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Smiling at their shared joke, Jameson pushed open the guest room door, letting Cecil choose which corner to place his bag in. He left it near the wardrobe, then made a beeline for the windows to check the view, even going so far as to swing them open and stick his head out. "Did you happen to pick this room for me so I could keep an eye on the greenhouse from here?"

"It seemed like the sole appropriate option."

"And you were very much correct." Cecil's smile was easy, looking the most serene that Jameson had seen him since they met. "You do have a wonderful home, Jameson. I daresay I almost envy you."

"I'm very grateful for what I have," Jameson said. Even after three seasons, it sometimes still felt as if he were in some sort of dream, that he had such a comforting place to be. "I know I invited you to see how the greenhouse is coming along, but you're welcome to stay as long as you like."

"Thank you, Jameson." Cecil took a deep breath of the fresh air, and then he closed it up. "Now then, I do believe it would make you a most excellent host to show me to the greenhouse that you keep teasing me with, yes?"

The afternoon was spent as such with Cecil looking around and asking a plethora of questions that Jameson did not always have the answers to. Given that the construction crew had already left for the day, Jameson might've floundered, but Fred was out and about. Though the boy had been nervous at first, it didn't take him all that much time to become accustomed to Cecil, the two of them having plenty of shared interests to discuss. Cecil did most of the talking, yes, but Jameson was rather certain that it was the most he'd ever seen Fred speak to someone new upon their first meeting.

As a result, Jameson rather fell to the wayside of the conversation, but the other two looked so joyful that he didn't mind in the slightest. Once he was certain that the two of them would be fine without his presence as a buffer, Jameson went to prepare tea, bringing along the new apple muffin recipe he'd tried out for the occasion. From there, he was content to sit by and listen to the others' discussion about what sort of tips Fred could try once he had full range of the greenhouse to garden in.

So absorbed were they in the conversation that Louis had to come get Jameson to remind him to help with the dinner preparations. There had been an offer to ease Jameson's contributions to the chores while Cecil was visiting, but Jameson had declined, since it was still unclear just how long his friend would be staying. Neither Cecil nor Fred seemed to mind, still enjoying their chat, so Jameson put away the remains of their tea and then got to work in the kitchen. As the main dish for that evening was to be a roast, it had been cooking already, but there were still the side dishes and table setting to handle, so Jameson set aside his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, tied on an apron, and fell into the familiar rhythm of following Louis's dinner plans to the letter.

Cecil had joined them for a dinner during the social season, and he was at least somewhat familiar with the Moriarty brothers, so the meal didn't carry any awkward tension; that said, having Fred as someone he could talk gardening with made the atmosphere easier, and so the meal was more than pleasant. Cecil rather enjoyed the food if his compliments were any indication, and both Jameson and Louis alike took them with stride.

If Cecil could endear himself to Louis, Jameson reasoned, then everything would be just fine.

With the final course complete—dessert being a treacle tart that everyone seemed to like, but Jameson thought could use some tweaks in his preparation to make the pastry even better—Albert clapped his hands together. "A good meal like that deserves a good drink afterwards. What say I go grab a bottle of wine and we enjoy some cards in the drawing room?"

As Cecil was their guest and he'd travelled most of the day, Jameson defaulted to him. As it were, his friend seemed rather enthused enough to keep going. "I wouldn't mind a round or two—though I make no promises for my skill," he said, and that settled that. Jameson and Fred helped Louis clear the table, opting to save the dishwashing for later aside from a few platters that were better off left soaking. Whenever they made it to the drawing room, William had already arranged enough seats around a table, and a deck of cards was fluttering between his fingers as he shuffled.

He'd also just so happened to arrange things that there was an empty seat between him and Cecil, making a perfect place for Jameson to sit between them. He offered William a quick smile as Albert swept into the room, a wine bottle tucked in the crook of his arm and enough glasses for them all between his fingers.

Cecil was at least somewhat familiar with the rules of poker, which made teaching him easier, but his promises of minimal skill turned out to be true. It wasn't that he made poor plays, but rather that he had no sense of a poker face whatsoever, which made him very easy to read and take advantage of. Fred, on the other hand, was perfect at keeping up a stone-faced mask, but the deal never quite seemed to favour him well, so it was a rather close game whenever one discounted William from the rankings.

"You," Cecil said to the man in question after several hands, "are far too good at this."

William offered an apologetic smile whilst he gathered up the cards to shuffle them anew. "Ah. Do you think so?"

"Yes," Cecil and Jameson said in tandem, and even Fred nodded. Albert chuckled, while Louis just seemed to be proud of his brother. "It's quite alright, though, William," Jameson continued, patting his shoulder. "It adds an interesting layer of strategy to assume that you're going to do well and then aim to work around it." Jameson wasn't always successful in doing so, that was for sure, but it was an interesting exercise, nonetheless.

"I see. You've started to become quite devious in that regard." Though he didn't outright say it with Cecil around, Jameson could imagine the curl of my dearest at the end of that sentence, a special punctuation just for him.

Cecil chuckled, taking a sip from his wine glass. While he was a bit flushed from the drink, he was in nowhere near as affected of a state as Jameson would have been. Looking pleased to have someone else to keep up with him, Albert topped off Cecil's glass while the latter remarked, "I didn't quite expect that out of you, my dear friend. It seems that there's still plenty for you and me to learn about each other."

"I happen to find that's one of the more enjoyable parts of interacting with others," Albert said, topping off his own glass as well. Jameson had long since learned it wasn't worth the effort to try and keep count when it came to the eldest Moriarty, though however much he'd imbibed was starting to make the faintest of blushes appear upon his cheeks—the effect somehow just as charming as everything else about him. "Our Jameson here has plenty more exciting things to learn about him, so you have much to look forward to."

Jameson would've protested if William's nod hadn't caught him off guard, and even Cecil seemed to be in agreement. "Oh, I have no doubt about that. It's part of what makes his company so enjoyable." The light drink seemed to have loosened Cecil's tongue a bit, or at the very least made his smiles come much easier. "Though I'm sure the idea applies to all of you. People often have much more to them than what meets the eye at first."

Perhaps it was Jameson's imagination, but he was almost certain that Fred had just pulled up his scarf a bit to hide a silent laugh. Yes, those words were a sort of general truth, but one might be hard pressed to find a collection of people who were hiding more secrets than the residents of Moriarty Manor.

"Well," Jameson said, accepting the deck from William and cutting, "I'm just as certain it will be just as enjoyable to get to know you better, too, Cecil." Though his lips parted, Cecil didn't end up saying anymore, and so Jameson inclined his head to William. "Shall we deal out the next round, then?"

From there, their game continued for at least an hour more. In the end, Jameson was just able to eke out a second place victory against Louis's shrewdness, while William was, as ever, the undisputed champion. Cecil had ended up in last, but he didn't seem put out by the result in the slightest, though it was difficult to tell how much of that was an effect of the wine. They agreed to call it a night, with Jameson escorting Cecil back to his room, though Cecil was leaning against him in a pure sign of affection. In his own gentle buzz of alcohol, the warmth of another person felt nice, so Jameson allowed him to do so as they bid the others goodnight and into the parlour.

"Did you have fun?" Jameson asked, attempting to still play the good host. "I know that attempting to play games with the brothers can be…challenging."

"Mm! It was a lot of fun. You're all wonderful to spend time with." That was enough of a passing grade as far as Jameson was concerned, and Cecil hummed in thought. "I suppose if I were looking for something to complain about, it's that there's nothing you can do to stop Lord William."

That was enough to make Jameson laugh. "Quite. It does make for an interesting challenge of its own, but I don't think even under my luckiest stars I'd be capable of outwitting him." He was just too brilliant, almost as if he were on another plane of existence, and it seemed like a miracle that Jameson could even do something like share a bed with him on a regular basis.

"It does seem like quite the challenge. Though by the by," Cecil added in a whisper as they reached the foyer, "could it be that Lord William is the lover you mentioned before?" Jameson halted and flushed in an instant, not knowing how he was supposed to answer that. Cecil's question hadn't seemed accusatory, but it was still a more delicate topic in most circles, so giving an outright confirmation didn't seem to be wise. Still, even that hesitation seemed to be enough as Cecil gave a triumphant smile. "I thought so. He does seem to be rather sweet on you."

"D-does he?" Jameson noticing the slight shifts in William's behaviour towards him made sense, but for someone else, who didn't have all the context of their relationship, that seemed to be a trickier case to handle.

Cecil nodded. "Yes. Or, rather, I thought he might be the one you talked about, and so I looked closer." His smile widened to something brighter. "He is rather like white lilies, isn't he?" Of all things for him to make the connection over… Jameson must've been making a face, as concern creased Cecil's brow the next seconds. "Please don't worry. I'm not about to hold something like this against you, and I swear I'll keep it a secret if that's what you want from me. I know…plenty of people can be cruel about such things, but I will not be one of them. I swear to it."

"But why?" Jameson hadn't meant to ask the question, but it had slipped out of his mouth before he could even think to do otherwise. He swallowed, but the lump in his throat remained persistent. "Why can you just say that without…"

Not even allowing him to finish the sentence, Cecil grabbed onto Jameson's hands. His deep brown eyes were earnest, almost glittering in their sincerity. "Because…no one deserves to be persecuted for something that's a part of them." For a moment, Cecil's expression faltered, but Jameson couldn't dare bring himself to ask. "Jameson, does he make you happy?"

Jameson didn't know why his mouth flapped without any sound coming out, not whenever the answer was so obvious. "Yes," he said once he got his tongue under control. "William makes me…very happy."

Cecil nodded. "Then as your friend, that's all I could ever ask for."

And so they began the wobbling climb upstairs.

Within the next two days, the construction of the greenhouse was then complete, including all the interior pavement and places for the flowerbeds. As soon as that was done, the plants they had ordered for Fred had all come in as well, which made for a busy time. Cecil had decided to help, dirtying his hands in the beds. He and Fred would come inside, soil smudged over their faces and beaming for it. Jameson found himself smiling just to see it, and a few more days of hard work meant that the greenhouse was starting to come together, even if most of the plants were still in their infant stages. Still, with dedicated work and time, it would all come together, not to mention Fred seemed to be looking forward to the results.

That just cemented that it had been a good idea to invest in the greenhouse. Not that Jameson had even been harbouring doubts in the first place.

With such hard work involved, no one could have blamed Cecil were he to be exhausted (Fred had retired soon after dinner, after all), but instead he seemed lighter than ever. Since William had claimed to think of a solution to the mathematics theorem he'd been considering, his plans were to work on his studies in his office, which would no doubt lead to him burning the midnight oil. Not wishing to intrude on that concentration, Jameson invited Cecil to his rooms to enjoy a bit more conversation before he would turn in for the night himself.

"I'm glad you were able to come." Jameson said. "Both because I enjoy your company, but also because you've been able to teach Fred so much." The end result was that two people that Jameson cared about were able to enjoy themselves, which just made Jameson's heart warm as a reminder that he could create good things in the world for other people—not just despair, or destruction for the sake of justice, but simple, everyday happiness.

"I'm glad I came to visit, too. It's so nice here," Cecil whispered. It wasn't the first time he'd shared that sentiment, but it was the first time he'd sounded so wistful. Jameson didn't comment, instead just watching his friend's face for any sign of what he was supposed to do next. Cecil noticed his gaze and attempted to offer a smile, though the results were weak. "Apologies. I just can't help but think that if my home were like this, I would feel very different about staying there."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jameson asked. Cecil had every right to refuse, but it would always be an open offer. After a moment, Cecil settled down into one of the chairs by the fireplace, gesturing for Jameson to join him in the other. The positions made it easy for Cecil to stare into the fire rather than at Jameson, flames casting ever-shifting shadows across his face. They could have sat there the whole night, just in each other's company, and Jameson would've had no complaints if that was what Cecil needed.

"Home just feels…oppressive," Cecil said. "While we were in town for the season, it was still stressful to be around my family."

"Because of their expectations for you?"

"Mmhmm." It wasn't surprising, given that Cecil had mentioned it before, but he often didn't linger on it. In the present, there seemed to be a cloud hovering over him, the sort that didn't form overnight. "But while we were here, it was at least easier to get out. Yes, I did have to socialise with a lot of people because I was expected to, but it was still a way to do as I pleased. So long as I went to a couple of the gatherings they chose for me each week, I could otherwise do as I wanted. Even then, I had to let them know who I was meeting with, but it was still better than nothing. However, back at home…things aren't that simple. I was shocked that they agreed to let me come and see even you for so long. It's just…

"Being somewhere that I don't feel so tired all the time makes me wonder why I can't feel that way in the place that's supposed to be my own home."

"Oh, Cecil," Jameson said, but even that didn't seem to be enough to help his friend. How could it be, whenever the problem was a much bigger one than just one simple conversation could solve? "I know I've said so before, but I will repeat it as much as necessary: whatever you need, my dear friend, if it's something I can provide, then all you need to do is say the word." If it could help those he cared about, Jameson would do whatever it took.

Cecil looked to him, his eyes glimmering over for a moment, though he composed himself a moment after. "Thank you. Just allowing me to impose and stay here for some time is plenty. It may be a temporary reprieve, but it's far more than I've been allowed in the past."

"You're always welcome here." While the Moriartys didn't know the full context of Cecil's circumstances, they were kind and caring people. It might make a bit of complication if they were to be involved in a crime consultancy at the same time, but Jameson would just need to hope that the relative peace would last a bit longer. "Though I do have one objection." Cecil looked up, worry in his expression, and Jameson returned with a reassuring smile. "You are not an imposition upon us, Cecil, not in any way shape or form. Please be kinder to yourself. There are…" Jameson thought back to everything he'd been through, to everything the Moriarty brothers and Fred had done for him. "There are some things we are incapable of doing alone, and that's alright."

It was because of the others that Jameson was still able to give Cecil his support, was still able to contribute to part of the Moriarty's vision for the world anew. As such, Jameson didn't mind being a pillar for Cecil one bit.

Cecil's eyes went wide, and, in the end, he let out a chuckle. "It seems that you have plenty of wisdom to still share with me."

"It's nothing but words I've taken from others, but it gets the job done, does it not?"

"It does indeed." Cecil had seemed to relax again, and Jameson hoped that the promise of a safe refuge would take some of the weight off his shoulders, even if it was nothing more than a small fraction. But it wouldn't do to end the night on such a sad note, so Jameson smiled, clasping his hands at his knees and leaning forward in his seat.

"You two have more plans for the greenhouse, yes?" he asked. "What are you going to be up in there tomorrow?"

As if it were taunting them, the letter from Baron Carfax arrived the next morning.

Its contents were not very involved, but the message was clear: Cecil was to return home, and a carriage would arrive to pick him up in two mornings' time. While Jameson didn't view this as good news in the slightest, nor did any other resident of Moriarty Manor, it was clear that Cecil was the most affected of all. His easy enthusiasm after a long day of gardening had dimmed, and not even walking through the greenhouse with Fred to assist with the upkeep of the plants seemed to return the sparkle to him that had been present before.

It frustrated Jameson to no end to see his friend struggling and not having a straightforward way to rush to the rescue. To do something like pseudo-adopt Fred, who had nowhere and no one else to return to, was one matter, but it would take much more effort to pull Cecil from his circumstances without any consequences. Still, he could provide gentle reassurance, and he had to hope it would be enough.

As it were, the Moriarty brothers were sharp enough to sense the change in mood and then attempt to ease it. Albert in particular did his best whenever he was present, always striking up conversation with Cecil to keep him from lingering too long in his thoughts, bringing a sense of optimism. Even Louis had gone so far as to adjust the dinner menu from beef to chicken, playing to Cecil's preferences, though he did so without saying a word or expecting any recognition.

Jameson noticed, though he inclined not to mention it, as Louis would just act as if it didn't matter.

Trying to salvage some of the relaxed atmosphere, Jameson once again offered to join Cecil for some evening conversation, but he declined, saying he wished to turn in early. There was no reason to protest, though Jameson did walk Cecil to his guest room before returning to his own chambers.

William had been reading on the sofa, and he looked up as Jameson entered the room. "I didn't expect you back already," he said, scooting over so that there was enough space for Jameson to join him. "Is Cecil alright?"

It would've been much more concerning if William hadn't realised something was amiss. "I don't think so," Jameson said, taking the spot offered to him. William had already sat his book aside, giving Jameson his full attention. "He told me that his home is not a place he enjoys being, and that he much more enjoys it here. I think that being summoned back without any warning is hard for him." William's expression was serious, and it took Jameson a few more beats to recognise where his mind had gone. "It didn't seem like anything as severe as my case, though."

"No, I wasn't suspecting anything that far. It's just that even something as simple as not having a comfortable place to rest at the end of the day can have an impact on someone." As a baron's son, Cecil wouldn't want for anything material, but that didn't mean the other pressures were good for him. "He didn't wish to share your company for a while again, though? I'd thought that some sort of negative news would have him aiming to take advantage of the time that he is staying here."

"I thought so, too. But he looked so exhausted whenever he returned to his room that I couldn't bring myself to push the issue." Cecil hadn't looked quite haunted, but there had been a pervasive darkness clinging to him. Sighing, Jameson leaned into William's side, resting his head upon his shoulder. "I hope his mind will quiet enough for him to get some rest. A night without sleep whenever you're worried is an awful thing."

William carded his fingers through Jameson's hair, the faint scratch against his scalp easing some of his own tension. "It can be, yes. That said, you won't be able to do much good if you aren't getting enough rest yourself, dearest." Jameson flicked his eyes up to William. "There's no doubt in my mind that you're the one that Cecil trusts the most, and you can support him both while he's here and after he's gone home. Tomorrow is his last full day with us, after all. I'd say there's no reason not to spend as much of it with him as you can. But if you're to do that…"

"I should make sure I'm rested enough, yes?" William gave a kiss to Jameson's forehead in affirmation, and Jameson smiled. "I think that's a good idea, but I would like to chat with you a bit longer. Would you mind getting ready for bed with me and we can talk until we fall asleep?" Tucked into that simple comfort with William by his side, Jameson should have no issue feeling rested for the day ahead.

William hummed his affirmation, urging Jameson to follow him as he stood up. "If I'm by your side, I'm certain I'll be as rested as possible myself. Shall we go get changed, then?"

Their hands finding each other's, they took the time to put out the lamps in the sitting room before going to get ready for bed together.

The following morning, Jameson was determined to do whatever it took to counter the sombre mood that threatened to sink over Cecil, and that started with pulling down the Irish breakfast tea (Cecil's favourite) from the shelves and ensuring it got served alongside plenty of cream. From there, he also confirmed with Louis that it would be alright to spend the last full day at Cecil's side, and then kept him company. They did chat at points, but there were also times whenever they fell into silence, and it was hard for Jameson to consider it comfortable rather than strained.

It was no surprise, though, that Cecil wanted to spend the most time in the greenhouse, and so that was where they were in the late morning. Fred had already done a lot of the morning work of watering and checking that the plants were healthy, but Jameson knew such things were one of Cecil's great joys, so he didn't mind walking about without much of a destination in mind, watching as Cecil paused to stroke the edge of a leaf or admire a flower blossom.

After some time, they came upon a burgeoning hydrangea bush, and it was Jameson who stopped rather than his friend. "You know," Jameson said, causing Cecil to look back over his shoulder, "whenever you spoke of flowers that remind you of someone, I started to wonder what it was that I associated with you." Jameson reached out, caressing the tight bundle of small blossoms. "In the end, this is what I decided on—though I'll admit that's more based on feeling than anything concrete…"

Cecil blinked, looking from the flowers to Jameson's face and back again. "It's another species whose meanings vary depending on the colour. The hydrangea can mean abundance, heartfelt feelings, or gratitude. In particular, aside from the romantic connotations, the pink ones can mean sincere emotion." There was something in his expression that looked touched, though that faint distance that had come up the night before still lingered.

"Cecil," Jameson said. "Whatever you're feeling. Whatever you need. You can talk to me." If Cecil wanted Jameson to go back home with him and tell the Baron Carfax off, then he wouldn't even waste time on packing his bags to do so. "You're my friend." Jameson's first new friend in the current stage of his life, and that was far beyond precious. "I don't…I don't have any plans to just sit aside while you're suffering and I can do something about it."

Assuming he could do something about it.

But even if I can't, I'll be damned if I don't at least go ahead and try!

Cecil was his friend and, just like William, Fred, Albert, and Louis, Jameson would do anything to protect him.

They were on the cusp of something; Jameson could feel that much without question. Cecil shook, and Jameson wasn't sure if it was because he was about to scream or cry. Perhaps both. Heaven above knew Jameson was quite the master of doing both whenever in the throes of intense emotions. But no matter how much Jameson wished for otherwise, he wasn't capable of taking that first step for his friend.

Cecil had to do it.

And so he opened his mouth and asked:

"Did you have something to do with the Countess Leinster dying?"

Jameson's entire body and mind froze, all the way down to his heartbeat, to the blood in his veins. The whole time, they'd been working to keep Jameson's secrets under wraps, and, so far, law enforcement hadn't the slightest idea who had been responsible for the four noble deaths that had piled up behind him, the several others that had happened whilst erasing Robson's colleagues. And yet Cecil had managed to hit the nail on the head, and, by letting the silence drag out, Jameson was making it more than obvious that his friend's guess had been correct.

"Why," Jameson asked, all his careful practise making it so that his voice didn't start to shake, "would you ask something like that?"

What did I do that ruined all of William's hard work?

"I understand if you feel like you must, but please don't lie to me," Cecil said, his shoulders trembling. "It wasn't long after you became acquainted with the Countess that she passed away, and you went out of town at the same time that the Marquis Waterford went missing. I brushed it off the first time, since it seemed like too much of a coincidence, but it happening twice? And you being occupied for weeks while a number of other men were found dead, as well? Jameson, I don't know what you've done, but I know you're involved."

Jameson's mind had turned into a whirlwind, thoughts spinning without any sign of stopping nor any way to catch at least one to start to put things in order. The worry had been present for quite some time, that he would be the one who would slip up, exposing their secrets to the world, and then he'd drag the Moriartys and William's beautiful dream both down with him. No matter what other secrets they shared, no matter what sort of trust Cecil and him placed in each other, there had to be a limit at some point—murder had to be a limit for someone as kind as him.

And yet, Cecil didn't look afraid, despite the conclusion he'd arrived at.

Jameson's lips parted, and he knew the words he was about to speak were dangerous, but he could do nothing to stop them. "And if I am?"

"Then I want you to help me!" In all their time together, Jameson didn't think he'd once heard Cecil shout; he would have been surprised, were it not for his own outbursts that were in contrast to his typical demeanour. Besides, Cecil's desperation was far more concerning than anything else. "I…I cannot take this anymore, Jameson. Being where I am is far too cruel. I…want your help so I can disappear."

Were the world a kinder place, Jameson would have been able to say he couldn't understand such logic—but the world hadn't been a kind place to him in the slightest, and there had been days where the despair of it had been all too hard to handle. He'd never acted on such desires, but on occasion there had been a sensation that had sept out of his heart and poisoned his very blood, making him feel as if the sole way he could achieve peace was to no longer exist at all. If Cecil were feeling such a way, too, Jameson would—

No. The world still has things inside of it that are worth experiencing. I'll convince him of that if I must.

But all of that was but a mere assumption, and jumping to conclusions could very well make matters worse. The best Jameson could do was take the trust that Cecil had placed in him and attempt to handle it with care. "When you say you wish to disappear…?"

"I want to run away." That was a much less extreme option than Jameson had feared, but it still was an answer that opened up numerous questions in its wake. "Like I mentioned before, my value as the youngest son amounts to nothing more than being a bargaining chip in a political marriage. I could have more than that if I wished to involve myself in establishing a business, but I believe you already know my interests aren't something my family approves of. And more than any of that…

"I can't stand to pretend that I'm a man anymore."

They were not the precise words that Jameson had used for his situation. In fact, what Cecil—his friend was saying was an inverse of the feelings Jameson had, but wasn't the core of those emotions the same? And to even have the bravery to declare such a thing whenever Jameson hadn't even discussed his own situation…that required a great amount of strength on her part that Jameson didn't believe he had in himself, despite everything else he'd accomplished.

His friend was beyond worked up, on the verge of tears, so Jameson asked the one question he knew he would want to hear were he in the same situation:

"What's your name?" His friend blinked at him, too stunned, and Jameson offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "If you don't wish to pretend anymore, then I won't ask such a thing of you, not ever. But if that's the case, I cannot go around calling you by something you dislike. So, my dear friend, what's your name?"

"It's…" A swallow. "Evangeline," she whispered. "My name is Evangeline."

"Evangeline," Jameson said, and he took her hands in his. Tears at last started to spill out of her eyes, which Jameson might have considered cause for concern if he didn't understand the pure relief that came from someone addressing you by your chosen name. "That's a beautiful name. I think it suits you very well."

First, there was Evangeline's breath catching in a sob.

Then Evangeline launched herself full sale at Jameson, catching him in a hug. While they'd exchanged brief, friendlier embraces before, the one at the moment was near crushing in its intensity. Jameson grunted at the contact, but he didn't push away, instead embracing Evangeline in return, rubbing circles into her back as he let the dam inside her break.

Jameson didn't know if he was the first person she'd ever told such a thing. It also didn't matter if it was. In the world they inhabited, the one where others would heap piles of judgement upon you for not fitting into the expected norms, it would always be a relief to have someone accept you in full and without a single argument; he felt certain of it.

After several minutes, Evangeline at last let go, sniffling as she pulled back. "What a pair we make, hm?" Jameson said, offering her his handkerchief. "A man and a woman, both born into bodies that don't fit them." Evangeline's eyes were wide again (at least they were before she began to blow her nose), but there was no denying the sense of wonder involved there. Jameson offered a chuckle. "Perhaps our souls got mixed up at birth."

In her intense emotional state, it took some time for the words to sink in, and then she looked at Jameson with wide brown eyes. "…You as well?"

"Indeed." To explain to someone else who felt the same would be a waste of breath, so Jameson just smiled instead, patting Evangeline on the shoulder. "Thank you for choosing to trust me. I know it's not an easy thing to give, and all the more so if others in your life aren't supportive." For all the atrocities Jameson had endured, he'd been lucky enough that his mother, Miss Penny, and the others at the boarding house had all accepted him as he was. If they hadn't—

Jameson was rather impressed Evangeline was still there to trust him.

"I…I thought I could. Not because I had an idea that you were like me or anything, but because you're the first friend I've made in a long time that's made me feel safe." High praise, indeed. "Not to mention you and Lord William…" Evangeline was still sniffling, the tears dripping off the end of her chin, and she didn't seem like she'd be stopping anytime soon. "B-but please. If there's anything you can do, if there's any way you can help me, I-I don't want—don't want to stay there anymore."

"Leave it to me." There Jameson was, making promises for the others without their permission, and the case wasn't even as severe as things had been for Carol and Alice. But with how they'd supported him—how they'd supported Louis—Jameson was certain he could get them to understand. And on the rare chance that they wouldn't? Jameson would handle it all himself. "I know—" He swallowed, the lump in his throat forming sooner than he'd thought. "I know how awful it feels to be trapped in such a way. So I won't let you endure that any longer."

So long as Jameson had anything to say about it, Jameson would give her freedom.

"Do you mean that?" Evangeline asked, her sense of disbelief beyond understandable. "You'll help me?"

"Of course I will. You're my dear friend. I'll do everything I can for you." Jameson reached out, taking Evangeline's hands. "I swear it."

Since Evangeline had half figured it out anyways, Jameson decided to give her the rest of the context for what William and the Moriartys did—or at least the concept of crime consultant. One day, perhaps, he would trust her with his own story, as she'd been brave enough to confide in him, but it did seem rather tone deaf to burden her with his own sordid history whenever it was clear enough she had her own circumstances that were weighing her down.

Instead, he settled her into the parlour, then went about asking for everyone else to join them. There must have been something about his demeanour that made it clear the situation was serious, as even Louis didn't ask for an explanation, instead just doing as Jameson requested. With that settled, all the residents of Moriarty Manor had taken up seats in the parlour, Evangeline looking somewhat nervous at the gathering, but still determined to see it through.

"Everyone," Jameson said by way of greeting, "I believe reintroductions are in order." He'd received her permission to do so already, but it still felt strange to be the one to reveal such a thing for someone else. Were it any other group of individuals, Jameson wouldn't have dared, but he knew from experience that they could be trusted, and so he continued, "This is my dear friend, Evangeline."

He paused to let the words sink in, though it wouldn't take any of the Moriartys more than a few seconds to comprehend the meaning. Fred had a faint look of awe on his face, but it seemed he understood as well. Evangeline had flinched, as if bracing herself for something much worse to come, and Jameson had every mind to march himself to the Carfax Manor and give her parents a smack upon their heads for ever making his friend scared in that way.

"Ah, Lady Evangeline, is it?" Albert said, sounding as charming as ever. "Quite a wonderful name. Let's see…I believe that makes you a bearer of good news, then." Jameson had not known the origin of the name, and he wasn't certain Evangeline had, either—there was every chance she might've just heard the name and felt an affinity with it before choosing it—but she blushed at the remark, nonetheless.

Albert sure does have that sort of effect on people, doesn't he? Jameson had been living with him for almost a year, and even he wasn't immune to the eldest Moriarty.

"It's a pleasure. I'm sure it goes without saying, but any friend of Jameson's is more than welcome here," William said, and the second show of support seemed to help ease some of the tension from Evangeline's shoulders, though she did cast a wary glance at Louis before her eyes flicked away. "Even so, I don't believe we've all been gathered here just to receive a proper introduction."

Jameson would have had no issue stepping in to explain further, but Evangeline took a breath before saying, "Yes, that's right." She stared down at her hands wringing together in her lap, appearing smaller than ever. "I… My family is not supportive of me. Of who I am." Louis clicked his tongue, but other than that, there was silence. "I don't wish to stay there anymore, so…" She lifted her head, mustering all her strength to declare, "I'd like to request your services as a crime consultant."

The atmosphere shifted in an instant, William's gaze in particular growing much sharper than before. "What do you need?" he asked.

There was that beat of hesitation that came from disbelief of being heard, but then Evangeline was back and ready to go, the request spilling off her tongue as if she'd been planning the words for years. "My family does not accept me for who I am. In fact, I know that if I were to insist on living as I wish, they would throw me aside in an instant. And while I don't have an issue with cutting ties with them…"

"You'd much rather it be on your own terms," Albert said.

"Yes, that's right. I don't wish for them to have that power over me. In fact, I don't wish for them to have any idea of where I've gone at all." That was the true meaning behind her wish to disappear. "I do not want them to know who I am or be able to come after me whenever they see fit. Instead, I want to be able to live my life never worrying about them again."

It was, if simplified to its barest components, a desire to run away from home and never return.

"Preparing a different identity from her previous public persona won't be difficult," Jameson said, having thought it over. It helped that Evangeline's case had some similarities to his own, though just to the less extreme. "And while the rest of her family may be bigoted fools, I believe we can solve this by removing Evangeline from her current circumstances and allowing her to start anew, don't you?"

William had a hand to his chin in thought. "Yes, this seems to be a much simpler set of circumstances. That said, Miss Evangeline, how probable is it that your family will attempt to come after you if you leave on your own?" Evangeline grimaced; as she'd noted before, even her parents saw potential in her as a bargaining chip through marriage. "While it would be simplest if you just walked out and never returned, that does leave some room for error…"

"Then the best route would be an abduction," Louis said, and William nodded. Jameson and Evangeline both watched the brothers with interest. "We can stage a kidnapping of sorts. Given all the recent incidents we've been handling, it wouldn't be too out of place for a noble's child to become a target. You'd be hard pressed to find a noble family that doesn't at least have someone that wishes to get back at them."

"But wouldn't they expect a ransom?" Fred asked.

"Just in the case that we frame it that way," William said, that brilliant mind of his already concocting a strategy. "If we instead make it seem like an act of anger, there's no need to promise a return under any circumstances. Of course, Miss Evangeline, we would do this with your express permission and forewarning." For the type of plan they were working with, there was no need to keep each and every detail a close-guarded secret. "What do you think of what we've said so far?"

"So long as it gets me out of that house, I don't give a damn." Evangeline gripped upon her pantlegs, her face twisted in frustration. "If I have to stay there much longer, I won't be able to handle it. Getting whisked away instead sounds incredible." She looked to Jameson to support, who nodded. "How long will it take to get ready?"

"That depends on the precise route we take. The biggest trick is going to be making the act of your 'kidnapping' look convincing, and that will require understanding where you're going to be staying and when."

Albert propped his elbow against the armrest and leaned against his hand. "The main Carfax Manor is out of the city, yes?" Evangeline nodded. "It's not an impossible task since Lady Evangeline is to be coming along of her own volition, but we might have an easier time of it if we were to handle things in London. Hm…" Albert fell into thought for a moment, and Jameson didn't dare interrupt. "How about if there were to be a social invitation she couldn't refuse? She'd be able to come to the city, and I have no doubt one of your townhouses would be less complicated to sneak into."

"What sort of invitation are you thinking?" Jameson asked. "We wouldn't be able to send a convincing one, not after she's just come to see us." Even the influence of an Earl would be able to make that less obvious—and sending the prompt as the Moriarty family would be creating yet another unnecessary tie to them.

"Now whoever said the invitation had to come from us?"

William hummed. "I suppose you happened to receive something not too long ago that might be helpful?" Just because the social season was over, that didn't mean there weren't still gatherings and parties being held, just in less frequency.

Realisation dawned on Louis's face, no doubt recalling the mail from recent days. "Then that missive from the Duchess Pénières?"

"Was an invitation to the masquerade ball they'll be hosting for Halloween at the end of the month." That was just a little over three weeks away. Albert's confidence ascended just a bit further into smugness as he continued, "I'm sure if I ask, she'd be willing to send you an invitation as well, Lady Evangeline."

"And my father would be a fool to turn something like that down," Evangeline said, sounding in complete and utter awe. "Not just due to the social implications, but because it would be another opportunity for me to try and find a suitable partner for marriage… Yes, that would work out."

"Not to mention that any invitations would be kept anonymous due to the appeal of the masquerade. Meaning you'd still be able to attend even after your former self has gone missing—if you wish, that is." Jameson knew that there wasn't the faintest chance that Evangeline would turn that down, not if it meant she could have the chance to be in public as who she was, rather than whom she was expected to be. Jameson wouldn't have turned it down at any rate. Albert offered the same sort of smile that had sent Lucy, Maryanne, and their coworkers into absolute titters. "If we put our time into it, we shouldn't have much issue pulling everything off on time, right, Will?"

"Yes, I believe we can make that happen," William said, already looking satisfied. He did, however, send a glance to Jameson.

"Please don't worry about me," Jameson said, cutting off the question before it could be asked. Beauclerk was the last of the regulars, yes, and he was still out there, but… "We cannot move forward with my operations just yet, correct? And even if we could, I want Evangeline to be somewhere that she can be safe and happy above all else." If there was a way to give her freedom within the span of a month, then Jameson would fight for that future. "If you must, William, consider this a request from me as well."

It was Louis who let out a sigh. "You sure do know how to keep things busy for everyone," he said, with about half as his usual bite.

Albert chuckled. "I think it's fun. We need to keep a bit lively around here." Even Fred offered a nod as his show of support, which meant that everyone's interests were aligned in a unanimous agreement.

"Very well," William said, standing up. "It might take calling in a few favours, but such a case should be simple to handle in comparison to everything else we've been involved with these days. From here on out we shall turn our attention to the complete disappearance of Lord Cecil Carfax—

"—and the subsequent appearance of Lady Evangeline."

[Author's Notes]

We're in 2025, baby. Time to get this arc rolling for real!

Thanks to Michiko_Queen21 for the comment! I love seeing your thoughts, so I hope you enjoy this one as well!

As Beta Noiz pointed out "look at Jamie being polite and asking permission to visit, unlike Sherlock." Someone's gotta have manners around here, and I suppose it's (sometimes) Jameson.

But the real star of this chapter and this subarc is Evangeline, who I've been super looking forward to sharing with everyone! There's been all sorts of little foreshadowing bits and pieces about her and some of her family situation out and about, so I'm wondering what all was noticed, heheh.

Chapter title is from Bastille's "No Bad Days."

Next time: The Disappearance of Lord Cecil Carfax, Act Two. Please look forward to it!

-Avi

[11 January 2025]