Work Text:
“This is M.”
“Come in.”
“Director, forgive my intrusion at such a late hour, but we have received an urgent report from 002.”
Mycroft rests his elbows on the desk, fingers laced beneath his chin — a signal for Louis to continue. Between his two Ms, he favors Louis, who possesses a mind much like his own. Louis is the embodiment of a surgeon’s knife: sharp, precise, and invariably calm. This meticulous nature is reflected in his neat handwriting and careful planning before every mission. Louis did stumble during the first week as the Head of MI6, being more accustomed to working behind the curtain than taking the front stage, but his brilliance soon surfaced. He matured into a capable leader and later, Mycroft’s trustworthy subordinate.
“That is the current situation. I have sent 005 to verify the information. If 002’s report is accurate, I request full authority to employ any agents required.”
“Granted. You have full authority to take whatever measures you deem necessary to secure that document.”
“Understood, sir.”
Once Louis is gone, Mycroft leans back into his chair. In comparison to Louis, Albert is the personification of dramatic flair. He is whimsical and dangerously unpredictable, possessing a concerning habit of charming and provoking his targets. So yes, for the role of M, Mycroft certainly prefers Louis. Their line of work does not need an enigma. Yet, an enigma is what stimulates Mycroft’s mind and heart. He finds himself missing Albert’s cursive handwriting, especially the ornate way he writes the letter M.
Mycroft slides his chair backward and glances beneath the desk, where Albert has been crouching. “Like what you heard?”
Albert crawls out from the cramped space, his eyes shining with fraternal pride. “He is remarkable.”
“He is.” Mycroft uses a handkerchief to wipe a smudge on Albert’s lips before straightening Albert’s collar. He had never imagined he would allow anyone to hide under his desk. Albert has a talent for making him break his own rules. “Hurry up, Agent Moriarty. It seems you must return and stand ready for a new mission.”
At that, Albert breaks from his trance. His gaze drops to the tension in Mycroft’s trousers. “I still have about ten minutes. But you, Director. Are you sure you can get back to work in your current state?”
“Don’t underestimate me, dearest Al.” Mycroft catches Albert’s chin, turning his face from side to side to ensure no evidence remains. “Consider this a debt. I shall collect it, with interest, when the mission is concluded.”
A shiver runs down Albert’s spine at Mycroft’s display of power. He beams sheepishly before taking Mycroft’s hand and pressing a kiss on his knuckles. “Deal.”