you could have my heart (and i would break it for you)

-or-

be gay do crime

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

Two Futures, Act Three:

"how dark is it (in your mind?)"

"Jameson, do you feel as if I'm taking advantage of you?"

At the question, Jameson almost dropped his teacup. Ever since accepting Albert's offer, the two had been meeting for tea every afternoon. On days when Albert worked, they'd do so once he came home—assuming he wasn't out too late—and on his days off, they took tea as they saw fit. The current day was one of the latter, the wonderful weather making them partake outside, but that was why Albert thought he ought to ask it before things went too deep.

Jameson collected himself, returning his cup to its saucer and the both of them to the table. "Why are you asking?"

"That's not an answer." Jameson's smile was guilty, making it clear that he knew that. In any other situation, Albert would've let it be, there were some matters that he couldn't allow to rest. "I am genuine in my interest in you, Jameson. But no matter how genuine I am, that wouldn't excuse taking advantage of you whenever you've been vulnerable." Both between his past, and the recent situation with William, it would be all too simple to pull Jameson in while he had nothing else to hold onto, and Albert had no desire to do such a thing.

And yet, he thought while sipping at his tea to hide his ensuing grimace, I went ahead and did it anyways.

But after several beats of silent contemplation, Jameson shook his head. "No, it doesn't feel that way." Albert had a fair share of scepticism at that response, but Jameson went on to explain himself: "You did nothing but present me with a hypothetical, and I chose to accept. Besides, I believe I am getting much more out of this arrangement than you are. Since that's the case, I'd say that I'm the one who's taking advantage of you, am I not?"

"You make a fair point, but I'm not convinced just yet." Albert did not just intend to be serious in his pursuit in the performative sense, but also when it came to emotional care as well. Anyone he would consider to court as his partner deserved every possible piece of attention he could offer, and that would hold true even if he were courting anyone who didn't have as much cause for vulnerability as Jameson did. "Don't feel the need to lie to me about your mental state, understand? I want to be there for you in every possible way."

It couldn't have been the first time that Jameson was hearing such words. Albert could concede that any concern would have been rare beforehand, but Jameson had been associating himself with William, and he would have taken the same amount of care.

It was with many years of practice that Albert did not wince at the thought. Yes, his younger brother had asked him to be by Jameson's side, and it was something Albert wished to do regardless, but William's rationale for making the request didn't sit well with him.

"I do appreciate it," Jameson said, pulling Albert out of his thoughts. Regardless of William's reasons, there was no good made by leaving Jameson alone. Jameson folded his hands together in his lap. "That said, even if you're willing to support me, that doesn't mean that I find it easy to ask for such help in the first place. But, for now, you needn't worry about such a thing. I'm happy with the arrangement we have." Jameson picked up his teacup, taking an elegant drink. "You've done nothing but look out for me since I've arrived. I have no reason to think that you won't continue to do so now." And then there was that smile, the one that was almost perfect but with that tiny bit of edge lingering, just as it always did.

Albert didn't feel he had the right to ask. Instead, he raised his own teacup, offering a short toast. "If you're certain you're satisfied, I shan't argue with you anymore. Just know that should you ever need anything, I'll be more than happy to provide it for you."

Until Jameson was happy again, that would need to be enough.

It had taken him more time than he'd cared to admit, but Jameson had at last managed to make himself flip through his journal pages in search of something new to preoccupy his time. Having Albert as a stabilising force had helped keep Jameson from slipping away into infinity, but that was just effective when the other man was home, and so he was taking Louis's advice to find alternatives.

Upon rereading his entries (a task that took a while, as every mention of William's affection made Jameson's heart ache and often required him to stop for some time), Jameson found he had enjoyed a handful of activities that could take up his time. Piano was mentioned the most, but Jameson crossed it out right away as he knew he'd be able to dwell on nothing but the duet he and William had planned to play together. Reading was another alternative, and he didn't wish to rule it out, but he knew something that occupied his hands would be for the best, which was what led him to his final choice.

"You wish to do more baking?" Louis asked in the midst of breakfast preparations. Jameson, busy attending to the eggs upon the skillet, nodded. "I don't have any reason to protest, but I wasn't expecting you to make such a request. What brought this on?"

Where that question might've been laced with antagonism before, Louis now spoke with genuine curiosity. "I've been thinking about what you said before," Jameson said, "regarding my training." The memory of the incident still stung, but it wasn't so bad that Jameson wasn't able to discuss it. "You're right in that I'm not in the proper state of mind to continue, so I was considering what sort of hobby I should do to clear my head."

"And you landed upon baking more." Jameson hummed his approval, being careful as he flipped the egg over so as not to burst the yolk. Louis was peering into the oven, checking upon the quiche that would be the main course. "In that case, I approve. You're welcome to use whatever you like from the kitchen, though keep a list of what you use so I can keep everything stocked up. You've already shown you can handle care of the basics, so we'll be able to serve what you make for dessert and afternoon tea."

The prospect of serving his practice hadn't crossed his mind, but Jameson reminded himself that the Moriarty house was not one that prioritised perfection in all things, so it would be fine. Besides, on the off chance that he did make something inedible, Louis would never allow it onto the table. "Thank you. I appreciate it." No matter how much Albert might have told him otherwise, Jameson still didn't quite feel like the house was his. Even if he had felt such a level of comfort, the kitchen was Louis's domain, so asking just seemed polite. "I will admit, though, that while I'm interested, I'm not quite sure where would be best to start…"

The last thing he needed was another failure compounded on top of all his other recent ones.

"I can give you guidance if that's what you're asking for," Louis said, pulling Jameson out of his thoughts before they could spiral too far into darkness.

"Yes, please."

"In which case, I was planning on making scones for this afternoon. It's a simple enough recipe, so I'll leave it in your hands." The show of trust gave Jameson a burst of happiness—nothing too large, but feeling much greater for the length of time since he'd experienced such a pure, positive emotion. Louis, satisfied with the results, opened the oven to pull out the dish. "But that's for later. For now, we have breakfast to serve. Are you almost done over there?"

Checking upon the eggs, Jameson found them in excellent condition. "Yes, let me just plate this up, and we'll be good to go."

For the first time in a while, Jameson had something to look forward to.

While he didn't consider himself on the same level as his brothers, Louis was confident in his observational skills-and his confidence grew when it came to noticing things about his brothers. After all, he took care of them every day, tending to their home and visiting with them between his duties. They'd also all lived together for years, so Louis knew them very well. William would be able to discover the slightest change from a mere glance, but Louis could perceive any change after a few minutes in either of his brother's presence. Even when it came to Jameson—whom he had known for nowhere near the same amount of time—Louis was able to perceive the basic shifts in his emotions.

And for so extreme of a shift? Louis would've been a fool not to have noticed.

While William was polite and kind to others, it was not often that he opened himself up to anyone outside of their immediate circle. Louis wouldn't have gone so far as to say that he'd become instant and deep friends with Jameson (putting aside their other forms of intimacy), but William had been acting with much more familiarity than he often offered new additions to his life. For that to change, for William to put that polite distance back between them, going from spending a substantial amount of time in Jameson's company to almost none at all and Jameson's ensuing distraction? Something must've happened, even if Louis had no guesses as to what.

And then there was the matter of Albert.

Was it mere coincidence that, as William had grown distant from Jameson, Albert had grown closer? Louis could produce a handful of theories concerning that matter, but he doubted it was mere happenstance. Perhaps Louis shouldn't have pressed the matter at all—from a logical perspective, it was none of his business—but also these were his brothers, whom he cared about more than even himself, and understanding at least the surface level of their affairs seemed to be reasonable, and all the more so if said affairs were going to affect Jameson's mental state to the level of impacting his training and ability to assist with the house care.

Inquiring upon the matter with either of his brothers would no doubt have provided insight, but getting a moment alone with either of them was proving difficult. For William, the end of his current classes were arriving, which meant he spent numerous hours at the university, while Albert had become wont to spend every possible moment home that he could manage at Jameson's side.

However, that did not mean it was impossible to arrange such a scenario. Jameson, still in a half-distracted state of mind, didn't protest whenever Louis left him with the task of washing up the bedclothes, which made it very simple for Louis to be waiting in the entryway whenever Albert returned home that afternoon.

"Louis, how was your day?" Albert asked, setting his cane aside and hanging his hat in its appropriate place. He glanced to Louis, at once able to read the sense of dissatisfaction on his face. "Ah, not well, I assume. What happened to make you so cross?"

"I believe that's something I need to ask you to discern." It was better that he'd gotten a hold of Albert first; Louis would not have been able to bring himself to be so blunt to William. "Would you care to explain what in the world is going on with you and Jameson?"

Albert didn't do something so obvious as looking away, but his eyes did flick over the entryway, as if he expected Jameson to emerge without warning. Whenever no such thing happened, he returned his full attention to Louis, who had taken on the (proven effective over the years) strategy of staring down his eldest brother until he received the information he was looking for.

"I've chosen to court him for the time being. He agreed to allow me to do so." The words were simple, and the explanation made perfect sense, but Louis's mind still screeched to a halt. Albert wasn't lying—he often made a point of not lying to him or William—but the honesty had yielded an unexpected result all the same. "Do you not approve? I believe that recent events should have been enough for most of your suspicion of him to be cast from your mind."

That was true, but still. That reasoning didn't account for one other very important element in the equation—the element that Louis considered to be the most important of all whenever he was involved. "You're right in that I don't suspect Jameson as much as I once did." He doubted he would ever be able to be objective about Jameson again. "You're free to do as you please, Albert. And so is Jameson. I just thought…"

"That I would not interfere in any relationship that Will might choose to pursue?" Louis nodded, feeling much more juvenile than he had in a long time. He may not have liked it due to his suspicions and his jealousy, but that didn't change the fact that William and Jameson had been forming a tight bond, one that, if not on his brother's part, had some romantic inklings on Jameson's side. That Albert was stepping into the ring and Jameson had agreed was threatening to break apart the newfound status quo of their lives. "Your assumption wasn't wrong."

"Then why—"

"Because Will told me he had no intentions of pursuing Jameson any further." Louis should have felt relieved; instead, all he felt was conflicted. That someone would not be able to monopolise William's precious time and attention was good for Louis, in that he could enjoy more time at his brother's side in the time they had left before completing the Moriarty Plan. But even more than he desired his own satisfaction, Louis wished for William to be happy.

Jameson was capable of doing that.

Albert's expression was also a mix of emotions, though not the same ones that Louis was dealing with. "Will is worried that he won't be a good match for Jameson," Albert said, which also sounded like nonsense; not that William would think such a thing, but instead the implication that he could ever be anything but a good match for whomever had earned his attention. "I may not agree with the assessment, but Will was quite final on his decision. I believe in that case, I'm justified in making my own interest known, am I not?"

If nothing else, it made sense why Jameson's performance in training had dropped without warning. Having spent more time in the kitchen, he seemed to be in much better spirits, though it was still subdued in comparison to before. "As I said, you're free to do what you want," Louis said. It was none of his business, after all. So long as Jameson wasn't being malicious in spurning William's attention, Louis had no investment in the matter. "Thank you for being honest in answering me whenever I ambushed you."

Albert chuckled. "No need to worry. I know you were just concerned for Will." Louis thought that perhaps Albert was letting him off a bit too easy, but that was how things always were, so no need to dispute the matter. "Speaking of Will, though. He is bothered by the situation. It might be for the best to not discuss the topic unless he's the one to bring it up."

Louis could see the logic in that, but everything else about the situation still felt foreign. If courtship is so complicated, he thought, perhaps it's best that I don't have any sort of interest in such things.

Taking tea together had become a daily occurrence, but that was not the full extent of Albert's indulgences. It seemed to him that courting involved not just sharing company and flirtatious words, but a combination of the two done while enjoying some activity that involved spending money. Once again, that happened to often be shopping, dining out, or both. Albert had already enjoyed those things in Jameson's company before, but the number of outings had increased since starting their courtship.

Which was why Jameson was in Eden's once again getting fitted for a new outfit.

"Are you sure this isn't excessive?" Jameson asked. As his current clothes still fit, there was no need for Mr Eden to take his measurements again, but there was still the consultation process beforehand, and so he and Albert sat side by side on the couch while waiting for Mr Eden to finish with his prior customer. "I have plenty of outfits already—which you know as you're the one who bought them for me." He didn't expect the argument to do much good, but it was worth the attempt, if just to pass the time.

Sure enough, Albert's broad smile showed no signs of backing down. "Don't be silly. Your wardrobe is best fit for the winter months, so you should have updates. Not to mention that the social season will be here soon. You'll need at least a few special outfits whenever you attend. I wouldn't dare send you out there without dressing you for the occasion."

Jameson's first instinct was to say that he didn't have much reason to think he'd be involved in such social events, but then he realised that argument didn't hold true. Yes, his situation had changed, and he wouldn't need to appear to society as a woman unless he chose to, so under those conditions, attending to high society events didn't seem too soul crushing. Further, there was also every chance that there might be a case that involved intending such a function for completing a crime consultancy, so it was best to be prepared.

"I see some of your logic," Jameson said, granting Albert some leeway. "But even if we're attending such functions, I believe there is a limit to just how many new outfits I need to make it through these upcoming months." Not all of his current wardrobe options were unsuited for summer, and Jameson had every confidence he could make it through.

"Now, now, don't think something so silly. Even if you claim to not need them, that doesn't change the fact that I want to see you in them." Jameson might've agreed to being courted, but hearing such blatant flirtation in a near public place flustered him much more than he'd expected it to. Albert wasted no time in taking Jameson's hand in his own, offering a flirtatious smile. "Does that thought bother you?"

"…No." He thought it might've, given how Stratford had once treated him, but it was funny how much difference the use of his preferred dress could make. "However, if you insist on doing so, I believe it's just fair to request that you also try on something new for me."

Albert's ensuing laugh was boisterous and full of pure joy, making him light up in a way that not even his most well-crafted smiles could match. That was the true Albert James Moriarty, and Jameson felt just a bit proud that he'd been able to pull such honesty and joy from him. "You say that as if I weren't already planning such a thing. After all, if we're to go together, it would be best to go in matching designs, would it not?" It was, thanks to societal expectations, one of the most pronounced ways they as two men could appear as a couple, and Jameson was floored once again by how willing Albert was to associate himself with Jameson in such a public manner. "Regardless, you have made the request of me, so however could I refuse now? Once the outfits are ready, I'll be sure to wear your favourite when we go out together."

That thought alone brought a sense of pleasantness to Jameson's chest—but he wasn't about to stop with just that short bit of happiness. "And what if I happen to have more than one favourite? Or perhaps I shan't be able to choose? As far as I can tell, you look wonderful in anything you decide to wear, Albert."

"Ah, yes, of course. We should prepare for every eventuality, now shouldn't we?" Albert put on a show of thinking in deep concentration, but the effect was rather ruined by the smile still resting upon his lips. "I suppose should such a crisis occur, we'll just have to go out once for each outfit you wish to see. Does that sound like a fair compromise?"

Jameson returned a smile of his own. "I suppose I'll be able to manage if that's the case." And then, the two of them able to contain themselves no longer, they burst into laughter of the sort so contagious that they were unable to restrain it, not even once Mr Eden entered the room to continue their appointment.

William had been using the excuse of his work to keep himself occupied and away from home, but that was not going to hold ground much longer. After all, in a few days, he was going to administer his final exams, and then his workload would decrease as most students took a break for the summer to indulge in holidays and the like. He would be conducting a series of smaller seminars, which would take some effort, but he'd still have much more free time on his hands—which in turn would increase his chances of encountering Jameson in solitude, and that would be an unfavourable situation for the both of them.

So he then turned his attention to his other major work: crime consultancy.

It was unfortunate, but there were always criminals hiding in the shadows to be punished—if there weren't, William wouldn't have had to pursue such work in the first place. He'd gotten word from Paterson about a case the police were stuck on due to money flowing in the right directions, so that then made it a job for him to handle. It seemed that a business owner was exploiting his employees to the point of exhaustion, illness, and even death, and he showed no sign of stopping, instead using his vast wealth to impede the investigation.

It was then going to be William's job to help procure the necessary evidence in a capacity outside the law. Paterson had provided him with plenty of files on the case, and William was reviewing them in the library whilst his brothers were outside, assisting Jameson with his training. As such, the inside was quiet, giving William the near perfect environment to focus in, aside from the occasional stray thought that was no one's fault but his own.

The prospect of being in Jameson's presence was no easier than it had been a week prior, nor was the desire to spend time at his side any weaker. At the rate things were going, William almost feared that he would never be able to move past his emotions, and that would make for an awkward household indeed.

Letting loose a sigh, William brushed his hair out of his eyes and leaned back in his seat, stretching some of the tension from his shoulders. He'd been at work for quite some time, so it shouldn't have been all that surprising that his mind was starting to wander, though it was an occasion that didn't happen often. Still, it was a good enough excuse to take a break, so he stood, stopping first by the restroom and then the kitchen, where Louis had already prepared some snacks should William need them. The evidence of his brother's care brought William a bit of peace, and he resolved to focus in full upon his plans.

The knock upon the door that echoed throughout the foyer on his way through derailed that, but William wasn't opposed to having a ready distraction at the moment. Finishing rolling up his sleeves as he went, he headed to the entrance, pulling open the door soon afterwards. He hadn't been sure what he'd find—they didn't often get visitors, but it wasn't unheard of—but William recognised the guest regardless.

"Oh, Colonel, I didn't expect to see you here this early." Sebastian Moran was a tall man, his dark hair kept in an intentional mess that would leave most of polite society in a sense of shock. His dress was in a similar state as well, wearing a long jacket that was nothing close to formal wear. He reached into one of its pockets, pulling out a cigarette and sticking the end in his mouth.

"I didn't have much going on today, so I thought I'd stop by. Kind of surprised not to see Louis letting me in, though." He glanced around the entrance once more, as if expecting Louis to emerge without warning. Seeing that the coast was clear, he next procured a match, lighting his indulgence up and taking a slow, satisfied drag. "He's not going to be involved in this case, then?"

"In addition to his usual duties, he's been occupied with helping our newest recruit with his training." In fact, they were occupied in the backyard in the moment, which William had been avoiding as much as he could, though there was no need to let Moran know that much detail. "That's part of why I called you in to help me out. This is a smaller operation, but I don't quite feel confident in handling all the particulars myself."

"Right, you mentioned we got someone new in our ranks. He's been here a few months, yeah?" William nodded, every grateful that Moran wasn't able to peer inside his mind, finding every ounce of confliction inside him at how he'd brought Jameson there and then abandoned any sense of responsibility for him. "Well, if it's just me and you on the job, I suppose you want to talk strategy? I'm sure you've got a good plan kicking around in that head of yours, so just let me know what I need to do, and I'll take care of it."

"I have ideas, but I will need a bit more information. If you don't mind, tonight I'd like to go and confirm our target's schedule and the environment we'll be working with, and that will allow me to finalise the approach we take." William had been planning on doing such things himself, but it would go much faster with Moran assisting him.

The Colonel, ever loyal, nodded his assent. "Sounds good. Guess that means I showed up early for nothing." It was a sign of his eagerness to help change the world, though, and William appreciated the ready reason to not linger in Jameson's presence longer than necessary. After all, there was every chance that being with William would bring back memories of their last tryst, which would then lead to even darker memories than those. "I guess if we're investigating tonight, I shouldn't start drinking now… You said the new guy was training out back?"

William's thoughts skipped but then resumed with an almost imperceptible difference, like a record falling back into place after to a tiny bump against the gramophone. He didn't wish to be in Jameson's presence any more than necessary—but there was no reason that he should object, now was there? "I believe so, unless they've wrapped up already." Which they shouldn't have, were they keeping to schedule, but William could hope for an exception to the routine, couldn't he? "Were you interested in meeting him, then, Colonel?"

"Might as well, yeah? If we're gonna be working together." Familiar enough with the manor, Moran had already started heading towards the backdoor, and William followed behind him, their footsteps echoing about the halls with a sense of finality.

It would be fine, William attempted to reassure himself. He'd managed thus far sharing a table with Jameson while his brothers were present, and the current situation would be no different. He wouldn't need to talk much other; perhaps Albert would take over introducing Moran, and William could fade into the background.

Though even then, I'll need to watch Albert interact with Jameson, he thought, which was a ridiculous concept to take issue with. William had known full well what would happen upon asking Albert to look out for Jameson—in fact, it would be better for Jameson, to have someone like Albert who would be able to love him with no reservations—but that didn't make witnessing their closeness and flirtation any easier.

Not having any right to complain about such things, William pushed the thought from his mind, soon stepping out into the sunlight. It didn't take much longer to find the others, Louis and Jameson sparring in the yard, while Albert watched from the side-lines at a table set up with some refreshments. Moran strode across the grass without any hesitation, leaving William little choice but to follow. "Oh, Will, Colonel," Albert said upon noticing them. "I didn't know you were visiting. Are you two working on something together, then?"

"Nothin' too complicated," Moran said, leaning on the back of an unoccupied chair. "Sounds like it'll be some infiltration to get intel for Paterson." He gestured his head in the direction of Jameson. "Had some time to kill, so figured I'd check out the new recruit."

"I suppose that does make sense. I will say that I don't expect that you'll have anyone new to spar with anytime soon. He's still in the middle of learning the basics."

"Yeah, I can see that." To a trained combatant like Moran, there was no way he could miss such a detail, and even more so since William knew Louis had restricted Jameson's training for a short period of time after—after William's failure. Jameson seemed to be doing better in the present, but his skill level with combat in any form was low enough that he needed every moment of practice he could get to reach the standard necessary for intense operations. "Is it just me, or is he still too awkward with his movements? You said he's been here a few months, yeah?"

The fairness of the assessment made William purse his lips, and Albert did the same. William had no doubt they were both considering the same thing: how much to tell Moran about Jameson's circumstances. Yes, Moran was a part of their trusted circle of operations—one of the most loyal at that—but that didn't mean they would divulge Jameson's secrets without permission, either.

That was Jameson's right, and Jameson's right alone.

"There are previous circumstances to consider," William settled on, then didn't elaborate further. If the words were coming from him, Moran would accept them, or at least not press the matter. Still, even saying the words was enough to make William think of how he'd added onto Jameson's trauma, and coming outside to talk with him was beginning to feel more and more like a mistake with each passing second.

Moran had that dissatisfied look on his face, his arms crossed. "If you say so, but even then…" He didn't have to complete the sentence for William to have a good guess at his thoughts, and it wasn't as if Moran was unjustified in his concerns, either. "Whatever. What was his name again? Jackson?"

"Jameson," Albert and William said in unison. Whenever Albert tried to catch William's gaze, William didn't meet it. Albert continued, "Jameson Liam Verity. He will be staying with us for some time, so you might as well get to know each other. Louis! May I borrow Jameson for a second?"

As a testament to his many years of practice, Louis didn't so much as falter in his role as the aggressor, sending a wide practice swing in Jameson's direction. Jameson, a bit more impressive for his limited skill, also didn't fall for the distraction, blocking the blow and offering a swift counterattack, the day's lesson involving hooking one's ankle behind the opponent's and further using imbalance at the hip to tip them over. The movement was a little jerky and much slower than would have been effective on Louis were he not serving as an instructor, but it had the fundamentals at the core, and physics tended to account for a lot on the battlefield.

It could be very, very easy to put someone off balance, should you know what you were doing.

Jameson seemed to be learning what he could do to achieve such outcomes, and Louis caught himself out of the fall without hesitation. Still, he said a few words, quiet enough and at the right angle that William could neither hear nor read them, or perhaps that was the effect of seeing Jameson's face in an easy smile. He turned to the side, jade green eyes landing on Albert first, and headed over at Albert's beckoning.

Jealousy was such a strange, foreign feeling for William that it took him far longer than it should have to recognise it in himself, after which he tapered it down without hesitation. That was no longer his emotion to feel, not where Jameson was concerned.

"Sorry to interrupt," Albert was saying, "but we had a guest I thought you'd like to meet." He gestured to Moran, who was still observing the situation with cold eyes. "This is Colonel Sebastian Moran, a former member of the army and one of our most trusted confidants for our crime consultancy. Colonel, this is Jameson, as mentioned."

Jameson's good manners kicked in, and he offered a hand to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Colonel. I look forward to working with you."

"Yeah, well, I'm not so sure I can say the same." Moran, drawing the collective gazes of everyone around him, sighed. "What? Don't give me that. I can't trust myself to some rookie who doesn't even know how to piss, let alone fight. You gonna tell me you're satisfied with just that?" Moran asked. He clicked his tongue, not even bothering to sit up straight in his chair, outright ignoring the hand offered to him. "You've been at this for a while, yeah? At the rate you're going, you're not going to be able to learn anything useful anytime soon. You're just going to be a liability."

"You think I don't know that?" Jameson's voice had that sharp edge to it, the one that was proof that he was not about to back down, no matter the challenge before him. "What do you suggest I do? Not even attempt to try so that I'm even more of a dead weight when it comes down to it?" William knew full well that Jameson would never accept such an outcome, not one that he could prevent by putting in a concentrated effort.

Moran, on the other hand, didn't look the slightest bit impressed. "What I'm suggesting is that you get a reality check. Going easy on you isn't doing you any favours." He dropped his cigarette to the ground, crushing it underfoot as he stood up. "We're not playing around with our plans. Come at me, and I'll show you just how outclassed you are."

William's foremost emotional response was to protest—and then he felt surprise. Yes, his goal was to protect people where he could, to help them, so that was nothing new. However, for such a feeling to be so strong, and after he'd already told himself he wouldn't remain so attached? It was unlike himself, to say the least.

When had he even started feeling any sense of attachment in the first place?

It doesn't matter. I don't deserve to have those feelings in the first place, let alone act on them.

For a moment, William thought that Jameson would balk—no one would blame him, what with the severe height difference between the two men—but instead he clenched his fists. "I don't plan on getting scared away. Not by something like this." In comparison to what Jameson had endured before, did he consider the threat of physical violence to be a mere trifle?

"Oh, little redhead's got a spine." Moran's face cracked open in a grin, one that made it clear that he was a hunter more than capable of taking down wild beasts. He stepped forward, looming over Jameson—and then he moved without any sort of warning whatsoever.

The good news was that Jameson's efforts had borne fruit, and so he was able to react in time to protect himself, moving in closer to eliminate the distance between them. Not wasting any time, Jameson went into a perfect counterattack; the issue was that Moran had received the same training, and he had much more experience. Blocking the blow—which would've not quite had the force to do substantial damage to Moran, even had it connected—Moran was able to get into Jameson's space, tripping him to the ground in a smooth motion. Jameson half exhaled, half hissed, but he did attempt to roll out of the way, which would've been a good approach had Moran not anticipated the escape and dropped his knee into Jameson's stomach.

Even at half-force and half-speed, the blow was enough that Jameson choked, the sound not even out of his mouth before Moran's gloved prosthetic hand was at his throat.

The look of terror upon Jameson's face was immediate, his reaction near identical to the night whenever William had attempted to pin him to the bed. Except, unlike then, whenever Jameson had mustered the bravery to tell William to stop, he was now frozen, gasping for breaths he couldn't take due to Moran's restraint, and tears were forming in his eyes. William didn't even want to think of what sort of memories Jameson must've been reliving in that moment, but he would have been lying if he claimed to not have an idea, not after everything Jameson had trusted him with.

"Yeah, just like I thought," Moran said, not loosening his hold nor moving from his position. Since he'd dropped his weight upon Jameson's stomach, it would have been difficult for him not to recognize the difference in body structure in comparison to the typical man. Jameson couldn't muster more in response than a sob. "You're weak, and you're trying to be something you're not. You need to accept your limits. I don't care how much training you're going to do, you can't match the strength of a man, and that's going to cause trouble. Live your life however you want, sure. But if you can't even handle this much, don't expect—"

"Colonel, that's enough." William had been thinking the words, but it was Albert that had spoken, letting a sense of relief wash over the backyard. "Release him now."

Moran clicked his tongue, looking over his shoulder to where Albert was approaching. In contrast to his usual sense of calm happiness, Albert's expression was stormy, an expression of genuine anger that William had not seen on him in quite some time. "What, we're going and being soft now? If you coddle him every time he gets into danger, you're just going to make it worse!"

"This is not up for negotiation." Albert grabbed Moran by the arm he was using to restrain Jameson, yanking him away without any remorse. Louis had also moved in, helping a shivering Jameson sit up while William remained frozen on the side-lines, unable to act as he wished. "In any other situation, you would have a point. But you are acting with incomplete information." Albert's grip tightened upon Moran's arm, the force in his grasp evident even from a distance. "Stand down, or I will make you. Understood?"

It was no secret amongst their faction that Albert and Moran had what would be considered a rivalry, but the tension between them then was more than that. For a moment, William feared that Moran's stubbornness would escalate the situation into a full-blown argument—but then the colonel scoffed, yanking his arm out of Albert's grasp and standing up. "Do what you want." He shoved his hands into his pockets, striding back towards the manor. "William, I'm going out for a bit. I'll be back before dark, so just let me know what we're doing then."

William nodded, but he didn't have much more of a response to give. He wanted to help Jameson—wanted to explain to Moran just why they were being so accommodating—but he'd given up any right to do so, hadn't he? There was no room to help Jameson come back to his senses, no right to reassure him that things would be fine.

Harden yourself as you always have. You won't be able to achieve what you wish if you don't.

And yet, no matter how hard William tried, it wasn't as simple as it had once been—or perhaps it had never been that simple at all.

Jameson didn't remember much between getting pinned to the ground and being moved to the parlour. He had no clue if he'd walked himself or if Albert and Louis had taken him there, and the sensation of a hand tight around his throat still lingered, and with it came all the darkness of memory. Considering that Jameson was still in full dress, he didn't think anything untoward had happened to him, but it was hard to distinguish reality from everything else clinging to his skin. He tried breathing, but it was difficult, even with soothing words being spoken into him. It was once a teacup was put into his hands that Jameson had partial awareness, though the light of afternoon had faded into the orange of evening through the window.

More lost hours, more lost chances. It was the same old, same old, and Jameson had gotten nowhere.

"I'm sorry," he said once he recognised that it was Albert that had given him tea. Where William and Louis and the Colonel had gone, Jameson had no idea, but he hoped for the moment that he was safe, as fragile of a hope as that felt. "I'm sorry," he said again, feeling the compulsion to apologise. "I'm inconveniencing you again, Lord Albert."

"You have nothing to apologise for." Oh, it must have been serious if Albert wasn't correcting the formal referral. "May I sit beside you?" he asked, gesturing to the seat. Jameson, not sure why he would refuse, nodded. The warmth of another body beside him was nice, even if he couldn't appreciate it in full. "I told you already. I intend to look out for you. I believe anyone would do the same for someone they were courting." Such consideration offered to Jameson seemed unearned, regardless of the nuance of their relationship. "I wish to look out for you, Jameson. This is nothing close to an inconvenience."

Jameson swallowed, as if that would make it any easier to believe what he was hearing. It didn't.

"I don't understand," he whispered, wishing to curl up and hug his knees into his chest, as if that would protect him. Instead, he stared into his tea, but soon regretted it since he could see his reflection looking back at him. "Even when it's clear I'm nothing but a burden, you act as if I'm not. I'm nothing but more trouble than I'm worth."

Albert took Jameson's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I disagree."

"But I can't manage to do anything." All things considered, Jameson was impressed that he hadn't already broken down in tears. "At the slightest issue, I crumble. The colonel was right: I'm going to be nothing but a liability in the future." He wouldn't be any use in missions, and that reduced his usefulness far too much to be acceptable. Piece by piece, he was losing any hope he would be able to maintain his place.

He didn't belong there, and that was the worst sort of feeling. At the rate things were going, the Moriartys would realise it soon, and Jameson would have to find somewhere else to go.

"Just because your strengths lie elsewhere does not mean you'll be a liability." Albert kneeled down before Jameson, grasping his hands between his own, hoping to imbue some warmth into those cold, shaking fingers. "Further, you won't be in this sort of condition forever. Even if you aren't in a position where you can fend for yourself in a difficult battle, you have been improving, and that will be even more true as you continue your practice."

"But I froze!" Ah, it had been a while since Jameson had felt so frustrated with himself, the hatred burning hot instead of the usual numbness and fog that tended to swallow him up. He hadn't the slightest idea of which was worse, but it didn't matter. The memory of the Colonel's hand on his throat felt like a burn, blazing fire dragging Jameson down and searing his windpipe to ash. "It happened before, too. At the slightest reminder, I can't do anything but panic. I can learn to fight all I want, but that won't matter whenever I'm helpless—"

"But you aren't helpless. Not in the slightest." Unable to believe it, Jameson shook his head, but Albert kept going. "Jameson, remember what you've done already. You slaid Charleville. You lured Westmeath into a false sense of security, and you killed him. With your own hands, you made that choice." Albert squeezed Jameson's fingers, caressing each one, loving even while discussing the lives that Jameson had ended. "You fought for your own sake. Not to mention beforehand you survived, whenever most people would have given into despair. No one would ever dream of calling you helpless."

No one, it seemed, except for Jameson himself.

"I find to possess an incredible amount of strength, Jameson," Albert continued, and Jameson wondered if that assessment would hold true if he just broke into tears at that very moment. "And whenever you are not able to remember that about yourself or even believe it, I will remind you, as many times as it takes." Jameson dropped his head forward, bumping his forehead into Albert's and appreciating the sense of pure warmth. "I have a proposition. Would you like to hear it?"

"A proposition about what?"

"About helping you reclaim your confidence." Jameson felt so broken apart in the moment that he doubted anything would be capable of putting him back together. After all, he'd just recovered from his previous setback with his training, getting back into the swing of things, and then he was failing all over again, faced with an opponent who showed him just how underprepared he was. But if Albert wasn't giving up on him yet, Jameson would at least put in what effort he could muster. "I do believe you'll improve in combat with all my heart, Jameson. But that's not the one place where your skills lie. I can understand if you don't wish to, but why don't we continue to build your skills where it comes to seduction?"

It didn't matter how much Jameson swallowed; the lump in his throat wouldn't go away. His last sexual experience had been with William, and that had ended— Well, he didn't wish to crumble in that arena, too, the last advantage he had left. Was he ready to be touched again, to be in such a position? No, he needed to stop such thoughts. After all, if he couldn't use his past to reclaim his future from the regulars, then it would become nothing more than a symbol of weakness, rather than power, and there would be nothing good left in him.

I can't take that outcome. I refuse to accept it. I refuse.

Well, that settled that.

"Alright," Jameson said, resolving himself once more. He'd known from the moment he'd accepted Albert's offer to court him that it would come to such an outcome; all things considered, he was impressed it had taken as long as it had. "I suppose that sooner would be better than later, wouldn't it? Though I don't believe here is appropriate…" Of course, if Albert insisted, Jameson would agree, but the prospect of Louis—or, worse, William—coming across them was a bit too much for him to take.

"I believe that all you require now is some rest, Jameson." Oh, right, Albert wasn't one to take advantage; Jameson had forgotten that not everyone wished to tear him apart from the inside out. "If you're feeling up to it, though, I will arrange something soon, perhaps in the next few days? I don't wish to push you, but I do believe it will help."

"Tomorrow is fine." Anything was better than the feeling he had inside him, that was for certain. If Jameson asked, Albert would be gentle, wouldn't he? So long as he was, Jameson wouldn't shatter to pieces. Albert's scepticism was clear just by looking at him, though. "I…don't wish to feel stuck. So please, I want to try as soon as I can."

I want to be sure I'm still worth something.

Albert gave him a long look, no doubt looking for falsehood. Jameson had nothing left in him to fake his expression, nor did he need to. His words were nothing but raw and unvarnished truth, and Jameson hoped that would be more than convincing enough on its own.

"Alright," Albert said after several seconds that felt much longer. "If you wish, I'll make plans. Just don't hesitate to let me know if you need more time." He brushed Jameson's hair out of the way before leaning down to place a gentle kiss upon his forehead. "Now, aside from tea, what can I get you? There should still be leftovers from dinner, and I believe a solid meal would do us both some good."

The remainder of the afternoon and evening at Moriarty Manor were rather subdued, with Jameson indisposed in the parlour and Albert spending his time upon looking out for him. Not wanting to be alone with his thoughts—even with an investigation commencing in a few hours, William had enough of a strategy down that the task wouldn't preoccupy him for long—he spent the time assisting Louis with preparing dinner, the two of them sharing a quiet meal in the kitchen instead of the dining room.

Louis, as attentive as ever, performed the complex task of talking with William so he couldn't sink too far into his thoughts but without bringing up any mention of Jameson, Albert, or what had occurred in the garden. When they were done with their meal, Louis also followed William to the basement, confirming the rough plan details as well as making sure William had whatever equipment he needed for the job. It wasn't anything too complex, and William didn't believe he'd need much more than his cane, but he did pack a cloak just in case stealth would be necessary.

And then it neared dusk, meaning it was time to head out. Louis saw William out the door with a wish of good luck, and Moran had showed up as promised, bringing a cab with him, so they took that. While in most cases the Moriartys worked to ensure that they didn't utilise such public transport during work connected to their crimes, the aim of the night was nothing more than gathering intel, so it wasn't going to be much of an issue in the long run.

As far as the rest of the world was concerned, they were just a couple of friends heading out for a shared drink.

Based on the information Paterson had provided him, their current target's staff were seen frequenting bars upon the weekends, though it was a different environment altogether than the ones that Westmeath had frequented. The man must have paid well, as the location had a higher price point and quality of drink, though William and Moran were able to enter without much issue, the décor wallpapered and tasteful, with both a bar and small tables alike. Somewhere, a gramophone was playing soft, relaxing music, offering the establishment a sense of class.

"Man, how does anyone relax in a place like this?" Moran muttered, his displeasure written all over his face. For all his noble blood, he didn't have an attachment to the more luxurious pleasures. There wasn't much to do about it where the mission was concerned, so William just offered him a smile. "Ah, whatever. Let's get the job done and taken care of."

Not even needing to talk more on the issue, they both settled down at the bar, ordering drinks, and William observed the room again, confirming that they'd arrived on time. The bar in question was once where a couple of the staff members at the Harris household often frequented, and their input would be helpful in gathering more testimony in evidence. None of said staff were present just yet, but it would be much easier to pass the interaction off as mere coincidence if William and Moran were there already.

And, after no more than fifteen minutes of William sipping at his wine and Moran at his whiskey, the door opened, bringing in a trio that William recognised in an instant. A trio of maids had arrived together, each of them part of the Harris's townhouse staff, and just who'd they'd been hoping to see. It didn't take more than a few drinks for most people's mouths to become loose—not to mention the other numerous ways to get information you needed.

They did not, however, go right away, since that would do nothing but attract unwanted attention. Women had quite enough to deal with without accounting for strangers viewing them as nothing more than objects while relaxing after work. However, that didn't change the fact that William and Moran had sat themselves in a rather conspicuous spot. If they happened to catch the women's eyes, then that was the perfect invitation, was it not?

It was upon getting his second glass filled and Moran already heading into his fifth for the evening that William caught one of the women staring at them in his peripheral vision. A few minutes later, her companion elbowed her, causing a furious blush and muffled laughter. Moran didn't hesitate to return the look with a grin, causing another fresh round of titters. Picking up his glass, he clapped William on the shoulder before covering the room in long strides. "You ladies mind if I join you for a bit?" he asked, gaining their acceptance right away, though one of the women's eyes were still on William across the room.

He smiled, knowing full well his expression was much softer than the one Moran was wearing, and the woman flushed. Moran pretended not to notice and, after a short conversation, waved William over. He obliged, accepting the seat with grace. It had been part of the plan, but William was always surprised at how simple such things were, even if the end goal for him was nothing more than some conversation for the night.

"Forgive the intrusion," he said, and he didn't miss the moment that Moran feigned coughing to hide his smirk. "My companion and I were just catching up over some drinks, so this is a bit of a surprise. What brings you all here?"

"We were just telling your friend here," said the woman that had waved Moran over, a brunette with a long, elegant nose and a beauty mark next to her lips, "that we all work at the same estate together. We're all the way out in the country, but during the social season, we like to come to this bar every couple of weeks and relax together. We just got in the other day with our master, so it was the perfect time to kick things off."

"Lucky us, yeah?" Moran asked, giving William a wink, as if the whole encounter hadn't been planned from the start. "I like a good drink myself, you know. Maybe I'll have to come by here more often if there's ladies like you to look forward to."

"Oh you," said the woman right beside the brunette. She also had dark hair, though it was on the light side of brown, and her eyes crinkled with mischief whenever she smiled. "Trying to barge in on our time together like that. Though I guess you wouldn't be all that bad of an interruption…" Moran returned her grin, and that flirtation was both a tool to get the intel he wanted and a genuine interest. William couldn't complain about what his friend did afterwards, so long as they completed their objective. "I'm Stacy, by the way."

"Anne," said the brunette.

"Becca." The name came from the remaining woman who'd been much more interested in William than Moran. Her build was slight, but her posture was impeccable, and beneath her blonde bangs were a pair of eyes the wrong shade of green, looking at William with expectation.

He banished the thoughts swirling in his mind. "Feel free to call me Willie," he said, plucking one of his many pseudonyms for such endeavours from the pile.

"Moran's good for me." Being dead as far as the legal world was concerned, the Colonel didn't have to worry about people tracing him through his name as much as William did, so he was much freer with his introduction. "So you said you all work together, yeah? What's that like?"

From there, the conversation moved into the typical small talk. Moran did a lot of the talking, but William was quick to step in if he saw the opportunity to move the discussion in a more favourable direction for their aims. It was a delicate art, gathering such information; push too fast, and you risked leaving a memorable trail that lead right back to you, while moving too slow could make it seem suspicious once you did bring up the topic in question.

As it were, the presence of alcohol made things easier. Moran took in a steady flow of drink—which his tolerance allowed him to do without becoming too impaired—making it much more difficult for the women to notice that William hadn't touched his own glass once he'd sat down. The women were also much more measured with their consumption, but Moran's own made them bolder, Anne in particular not hesitating to empty her cup and ask for another.

While William was guiding the conversation, it didn't take too much prompting for the women to talk about work and their employer. Nothing in their behaviour suggested that they were aware of the factory abuse, but that didn't rule anything out. Instead, they were happy to gripe about their workload, the slight understaffing, how there weren't enough people between the country manor and the townhouse to keep both places staffed during the social season.

"Sounds like a pain," Moran said, pouring himself another drink. He'd long since passed the pretence of pacing himself, instead ordering a whole bottle to keep himself occupied with, and then another for the table at large.

"It is," Anne huffed, her face flushed with the alcohol in her system. "Yes, it's true that you don't need much more than basic upkeep while the house is unoccupied, but there's too much to do for the staff back at home. Once we come back in the fall, everything will be behind schedule, and then it's scrambling to keep up the whole year until it repeats all over again."

Stacy nodded, raising her glass in a toast. "It wouldn't be so bad if he just hired a few more people, but nooo. The master's always fussing about money. I swear he spends half the time in his office reviewing his accounting notes, sometimes until the middle of the night."

Anne snorted. "His poor wife." Her coworkers burst out into laughter, the alcohol keeping them from being embarrassed to say such things in the first place. William was far more concerned with categorising the information they'd brought up; it seemed that they wouldn't need to try too hard to find the evidence that Paterson needed. "Hey, Mr Moran, you wouldn't leave your wife unsatisfied like that, would you?"

"Not if she was as beautiful as you," Moran said, not even missing a beat. Anne's smile was triumphant, and William just sipped at his wine. It was not his first time bearing witness to one of Moran's flirtations, nor would it be the last. So long as they were able to complete the job they'd set out to do, William had no issues with Moran pursuing a bit of fun in the process.

The idea of such commitment repelled Moran like oil did to water, but he never led anyone on for more than that. In other words, it was very much none of William's business.

"Oh, Mr Moran, you charmer," Stacy said. No one missed the way she scooted closer to him in his seat. "With how you talk like that, I'm surprised that you don't have a wife already."

William took a drink to help maintain his smile, and he was more than aware that Becca glanced, not at her companions, but at him. It wasn't to say he was unused to such attention—in fact, he'd been receiving it ever since his teenage years, so he was beyond used to it—but something about the flicker of hopeful expectation felt a bit more disorienting than usual. If her eyes were just a little more—

William couldn't shake the feeling that, even once their little information session was complete, it was going to be a long, sleepless night for them both. The difference was that Moran would be enjoying himself, whilst William would have to endure his unceasing thoughts as company until the wee hours of the morning.

He took another drink.

[Author's Notes]

Hahaha... *looks at "Adventure of Four Servants"* Moran's kinda got some transphobic shit in him, huh?

Thanks go out to Lunardiviner for the comment on this fic on AO3! That along with the kudos this story and the fact that we crossed 1k hits make me super happy.

But, yeah, Moran. He gets to have the "worst first impression made on Jameson" award. I think it was this bit of angst that made me struggle to write this arc, but it's been pretty smooth sailing ever since. Add this on top of the rest, and Jamie is having a certified Bad Time right now.

On a happier note, I finally posted some Jamie post-time skip art that I drew back in December! It's on both my DeviantArt (Aviantei) and Instagram ( aviplotbunny), so go check it out if you'd like some happier content lol.

Title of the chapter is from The People's Thieves' "Now That We're Alone."

Next time: Two Futures, Act Four. Please look forward to it!

-Avi

[27 January 2024]