DR. FUCKING KNOW

Former Witcher of Westminster. Bring me some strong coffee and the will to live. ✦ 21+ ONLY. TW FOR DARK & MATURE CONTENT. THIS IS ONLY A SIDE-BLOG OF AGOODTUCKERING. ✦

[tuckeresque]

PREVIOUSLY THE WOLF OF WESTMINISTER, THE DARK KNIGHT OF DOWNING STREET, THE MAN BEHIND THE (POLITICAL) THRONE OF POWER. CHIEF WHIP, ENFORCER, AND SPIN DOCTOR, ALL WRAPPED UP INTO ONE NEAT PACKAGE. NOW RETIRED FROM POLITICS. CURRENT CHIEF NEGOTIATOR ON THE 'BOARD OF NEGOTIATIONS' AT A COMPANY CALLED OFF THE TABLE.

            ➳

IN THE END THERE IS NO BLAZE OF GLORY.

WAS AGOODTUCKERING ON TWITTER

ALL STORIES ARE NOW HERE

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT

BIO & RULES

OTHER RP BLOGS

                   EX-ENFORCER.

        Fandoms: The Thick of It, Sherlock, James Bond, Suits, Succession, etc. MDNI. 21+ only. A character of Panda Bear's. All original characters are (of course) welcome here! Moved here from twitter, and had a long-time, long-running account. This mess is my own. We're anti-AI here, thank you very much.

This is only a side blog! Any following will come from my main.

        On another note, you can find my fanfiction here.

[inastonswithlove]

"Yes." He agreed simply, his eyes sliding from Malcolm for a moment as he considered that. It was so painfully real though, perhaps even Malcolm didn't realise just how true the words were. Something personal. Something real and alive. Some agents left the job behind for this, some never got the chance to have it. It was the harsh reality of their lives and their jobs. But something, someone to come back to? That was worth fighting for.

"And I suppose you do know what it's like from when you were away. Letters only go so far, right?"

He huffed a laugh, "Danger magnet. I can't say that you're wrong. Things do tend to be awful around me. Lots of bullets and explosions usually."

[tuckeresque]

Malcolm's breathing had gone shallow, nerves fluttering inside of him. It was absolutely fucking ludicrous, really. He was an adult. An old man, even. Love shouldn't do this to people his age. And yet...

He squeezed James' fingers before awkwardly drawing away to reach for his glass of wine. He sipped at it, sighing afterward. "Letters. Heh. Cannae say I got a single one of those while I was in prison. Did talk tae my sister and Sammy a few times, though. Jamie as well."

He wished, honestly, that he'd been able to call James somehow. Just to hear his voice. To talk. To give him something to keep him going. He remembered that feeling all too well, no matter how much time had actually passed since then.

"Yer a fuckin' danger magnet. It's fine, though. Really, it is. Yer still alive. Yer here. I'll count my lucky stars for that."

[inastonswithlove]

Following suit as Malcolm withdrew, James removed his own hand, pulling it back across to his own side of the table, palm flat against the wood for a moment. He regarded Malcolm for a moment then dropped his eyes to his glass, aware that his gaze could be quite piercing at times. Both an advantage and a curse, depending.

"Battered but present," he replied, swirling his scotch contemplatively in his glass before taking a steadying sip.

Even where he'd been at the time he'd been aware of Malcolm's situation. He'd wanted to help, of course, but at the time he'd been in no position to. His job, as they both knew, was unpredictable and dangerous. Everything had fallen at very much to wrong time and he'd been unable to reach out. Malcolm probably could have done with the support, but he'd had other people, so that was some comfort.

"I had contacts, you know," he added after a moment, unsure why he was saying this when it wouldn't make a difference now. "I kept tabs on you. I was informed how you were doing while you were there."

It felt important to say, not in so many words, that he cared. Life may have fucked over his ability to rationalise, process and respond to emotions like a normal person, but trauma hadn't totally destroyed him. He was here, after all.

"I can't completely blame my job for that fact either." He mused, taking another sip. "But as long as I keep bleeding I'll keep coming back." It was a strange promise, but he was hoping Malcolm understood what he meant. Blood meant life, he could bleed he was still alive.

[tuckeresque]

"It's alright. Ye didnae have tae tell me that," replied Malcolm, uneasy and uncomfortable with his own simmering, roiling emotions at the moment. He wanted to reach across this table and kiss James within an inch of his life, but he also wanted to bolt from this room. This conversation had reached dangerous territory. Revelations had come to light tonight, and he wasn't sure how James would feel about it in the morning.

He rubbed his temple, sighing. "I dinnae want ye tae think that ye have tae make some sort of grand confession tae me tonight. It's enough just tae know... I mean, it's not, not really, but it'll have tae do. Let's quit while we're ahead, before we might say something we'll regret. I dinnae want this tae be too much for ye."

Regret being the keyword there. It was obvious that there were feelings involved now, on both ends, but they hadn't said how deep it went. He didn't want to scare James away. That was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

With a sigh, he rose from the table wearing a look of shame to begin cleaning up after them, loading the dishwasher and putting away the leftovers in the refrigerator. If his heart was in his throat, so it was. He was an idiot. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd ever wanted something this much, and that was dangerous enough, especially for the poor man sitting at his table. He couldn't afford to have any serious feelings, not in his line of work.

[dark-devilish-desires]

"I'm starving as well. Why don't we make something together? A nice pasta, perhaps?" She unlocked the front door, glancing back to make certain her security detail was in place. They no longer had Remy or Sherrinford staying with them, but there was still a full time crew around the perimeter.

"We can look at trips to New Zealand afterwards. What was that you mentioned - Hobbiton? I so want to see you in a little Hobbit house, scrunching down to get through the door." For some reason, that visual tickled her immensely. "Do you even own any casual clothes? We might have to go shopping for you."

[tuckeresque]

"I'm too tall for a hobbit house. Dinnae be silly. And ye see me in t-shirts every night when we're home." He laughed softly, wandering into the kitchen and flicking on the overhead light. "But what can I say? I just like tae... dress nicely. Ye've never complained before. Ye seem tae enjoy the view."

Slacks, a button down, nice jacket, etc. Casual clothing for him was always a fun endeavor. Some men just liked it, and he was one of them.

He put the kettle on first thing and then went searching through the pantry for a box of already-opened pasta. "Which would ye prefer tonight? Fusilli or ziti? Depends on whatever sauce we make, obviously."

[dark-devilish-desires]

Kate knew his house as well as she knew her own. She got him settled on his sofa, then went to the kitchen to brew them some tea. She, for one, could use it.

She took a peek at his cupboards, shaking her head at how bare they were. She'd have to do a big shop tomorrow.

While she was putting the tea tray together, there was a knock at the door, followed by the sound of a key opening the lock. For a moment, she wondered if someone had followed them to Malcolm's. Then she heard voices she recognized - Sam and Jamie.

She added more water to the kettle, and two more cups to the tray. Kate could hear Jamie cursing as only Jamie can do. They were lecturing Malcolm, well, Jamie was. Sam was fussing over him like a mother hen. Once the water had boiled, she steeped a pot and took everything into the living room. "Can anyone join in on this bollocking?"

[tuckeresque]

Malcolm's head was resting back on the sofa cushions, eyes closed as he listened to said bollocking. He couldn't be arsed to move, not even to lift his head again.

"Why?" he asked Kate, eyes remaining closed. "If I hadnae stopped that fucker, then ye wouldnae have had the evidence that ye needed for the police. That's the only fuckin' reason I did it. That's why I stopped him from running off. It was for ye, Kate. And look, everything's fine now."

Sam sat down beside Malcolm a hand gently rubbing his arm. He shifted a bit, finally glancing her way. "I'm fine, really," he reassured her. "A good night's sleep, a few days of rest... That's really all I need. Plus, I've got Kate here with me. She's a good nurse."

It felt too intimate, too casual. He swallowed, gaze cutting to Kate. His expression was one of apology, for her sake.

[dark-devilish-desires]

She held onto his hand like a lifeline, brushing his knuckles with her thumb. "I love you, too. It used to be so clear, this vision I had for my life and the country. Then you came along and disrupted it in the best possible way. I do deserve it. It took me a long time to come to that conclusion."

Alicia brought his hand to her lips and kissed the back of his hand tenderly. "As far as what you do, the world is your oyster, Malcolm. There will always be some self-important wanker who needs the guidance of the Wolf of Westminster. You'll always find a soul to guide."

[tuckeresque]

Malcolm sighed, eyebrows furrowed as he watched her lips brush the back of his hand. "Yer sweet, ye know," he murmured, unbuckling his seatbelt and learning over for a kiss. It was gentle, perfectly chaste, and followed by another to her forehead.

Afterward, he sighed and drew away, slipping out of the car with her. He locked the Aston, pocketed his keys, and carried his briefcase along as they made their way to the front door.

"I'm starving," he announced. "Absolutely famished."

[dark-devilish-desires]

She leaned into him, resting her head against his thigh. She tried to take his advice, breathing in and out slowly. Just to try and lighten the moment a bit, she sniffled and tried to give him a smile. "You're really going to let me drive your car? Of course I'll drive. I've wanted to get behind the wheel of that beauty for years."

Her eyes drifted to the intruder, wondering just how hard she'd hit him. Hopefully the police would be there before he woke up. Just as the thought entered her mind, there was a knock on the open door, and a police constable entered. "Someone here call for the police?"

And just that quickly, Kate's hair-trigger temper took a turn. She gave Malcolm's thigh a squeeze and scrambled to her feet. "Yes, twice as it happens. And if you'd showed up when I called the first time, perhaps Mr. Tucker here wouldn't be sporting all these bruises. Now would you please kindly handcuff that bastard on the floor? He broke into my home, defaced my property, and God only knows what else."

[tuckeresque]

The next hour or so was a blur. After the police left, she packed a (big) bag for herself and they left together. He slipped into the car with her, laying his head back on the seat and closing his eyes as she drove them to his townhouse.

He almost fell asleep, to be honest. When they arrived, he slipped out with her, still determined to carry her bag up the walkway to the door. He was, if nothing else, a gentleman. And besides, he was sure that her hips and legs must have hurt by now.

With his good eye open, he unlocked the door and allowed her entry. Home. A house she hadn't visited since they said goodbye. He tried not to think too deeply about that, swallowing the lump in his throat and setting her bag aside. He closed the door, locked up, and flicked the outside lamp off. Before he could forget, he also sent a message to Jamie and Sam in their group chat, letting them know about everything that happened tonight.

[dark-devilish-desires]

Kate was shaking, and she needed a moment to compose herself. She walked to the kitchen without saying anything to Malcolm, to get him some ice. She grabbed a dishtowel and filled it with ice from the freezer then went back to gently lay it against his poor face.

"I'm the one who should be sorry, Malcolm. I never should have involved you with this. Seeing you hurt... it..." she stopped talking and sat down on the floor next to him. It was like a dam broke loose, and she began to cry. It was a culmination of stress from the attempted takeover, the break-in, and seeing Malcolm again. "I would take a beating myself before I'd ever want you to be hurt because of me."

"This is a mistake. I should have walked out of your office. But I couldn't help myself. Stupid heart wants what it wants."

Jesus. Had she said that?

[tuckeresque]

With the towel and a bag of ice pressed against his face, he reached out to lay a hand over her shoulder. It was more for her benefit than his own, and he sighed softly as he considered her words.

"I dinnae... I dinnae want ye saying any of that after all the stress or what ye just saw happen in here, luv. Save it for later, please. When yer clearheaded and I'm not on the verge of passing out as well."

It meant a lot to him, though. It left his heart pounding. After all, he'd never stopped loving her. Without even considering the wisdom in the action, he laid a hand over her shoulder and drew her closer, trying to relax her now that the madness was over and the assailant was lying face down on the floor. He rubbed her back gently. "Just breathe," he murmured. "Breathe for me. The police will be here soon."

[dark-devilish-desires]

That was some serious emotional whiplash Malcolm just went through. Perhaps it was her fault. Alicia should have waited to mention it to him after they got home. “It’s nothing bad, Malcolm. I’m revisiting my priorities. There’s something about being kidnapped and tortured that tends to clarify what I might want out of life.”

She sighed quietly. She didn’t want to have this discussion in his car. But she owed him this. “You know I want to become Secretary of State for Defence. I want to make a difference with the intelligence services. But I’ve been thinking that there might be a time limit on how long I want to remain in service. I’ve already served as Home Secretary longer than most.”

She faltered a moment, words failing her for a moment. Then she gathered her courage. “The truth of it is that I want more than public service. After my husband died, the only thing I had to look forward to was my public life. But now I have you. You were the greatest, most wonderful surprise. I want a life with you. I want to look forward to a time where I’m just your wife. Does that make sense?”

[tuckeresque]

Feeling like an idiot, he blindly reached out for her fingers. He squeezed them gently, trying like hell to regulate his breathing while he focused on the road. They were a short distance from home, just a few more streets, and it would be fine.

For a moment, he wasn't quite sure what to say. He squeezed her hand again, then sighed. "Right, sorry," he admitted. "I'm a fuckin' wanker. Ignore me, alright?"

He had his own issues to work through. If anything, the last however fucking long had been spent being solely focused on her. Just now, everything going to his head, he'd expected her to say that this marriage wasn't worth the work. What she actually said, however, was far different.

As they pulled into the long drive, eventually parking by the house, he turned towards her and watched her for a moment. His expression was soft, open. Vulnerable, even.

"This was a marriage of convenience," he began. "When everything first started, back then. It was for work. It was... because we were being blackmailed with intimate photographs of us in yer office. Do ye remember all that? We were distant, cold. Quiet. Kept tae ourselves. Stopped having sex then, too. We just... werenae present. It was all for work. And then ye were... kidnapped, and it changed everything. I realized I loved ye. I realized it was far more than just convenience. It was real."

He ran his fingers through his hair, staring blankly at the steering wheel. "What am I supposed tae do with myself once ye retire? Ye deserve it. Ye really do. Ye've given yer entire life to this shit, and it's about time. But still."

[governmentfairy]

The gesture made Mycroft pause for a moment, most people probably wouldn't have noticed it, but he knew both Malcolm and Anthea would have. The two people that likely knew him best. Under usual circumstances he may have demurely and politely refused, but a part of him knew that Malcolm wouldn't let him get away with it, neither would Anthea, and the pair of them together against him? It wasn't a fight he was ready to have, nor did he believe he could win. So, he dutifully ate his food. And enjoyed it.

After, when they were all settled in chatting, he was happy to listen. Mundane conversation wasn't something he engaged in a lot of the time, most of the time he had little desire for it. But there was something different about this time. And with the upheaval that would be upon them soon, and the extra work — and though he would never admit it, stress — an evening of this was superb.

Also, he liked animals. So he was invested in this little love story, asking questions and engaging fully.

[tuckeresque]

As the evening rolled on, Malcolm couldn't help but notice how at ease, how comfortable, and how happy Mycroft seemed. It suited him, really. It made Malcolm sad to know that he had so few opportunities to be this way. He made a note, though, to have more get-togethers as his house with this entire group. His sister and the nieces could join them as well, whenever they could make it to London, of course. He thought Mycroft might actually appreciate that. Anyway, it was rather sweet to see. It did Malcolm's heart a world of good.

Anthea caught him watching an oblivious Mycroft and she smiled to herself, something soft and knowing, and he cleared his throat as he turned to listen to Sam prattle on about the puppy escapades and how the cats were fairing with the madness in their home.

He really needed to learn how to school his expressions around that man. And around Anthea as well, not to be forgotten. He was better than this. He used to be, anyway. Things had somehow changed. Maybe it was his age. Maybe he was just tired of hiding from his friends, or from those he cared about. Maybe he was just tired in general.

[inastonswithlove]

"Yes." He agreed simply, his eyes sliding from Malcolm for a moment as he considered that. It was so painfully real though, perhaps even Malcolm didn't realise just how true the words were. Something personal. Something real and alive. Some agents left the job behind for this, some never got the chance to have it. It was the harsh reality of their lives and their jobs. But something, someone to come back to? That was worth fighting for.

"And I suppose you do know what it's like from when you were away. Letters only go so far, right?"

He huffed a laugh, "Danger magnet. I can't say that you're wrong. Things do tend to be awful around me. Lots of bullets and explosions usually."

[tuckeresque]

Malcolm's breathing had gone shallow, nerves fluttering inside of him. It was absolutely fucking ludicrous, really. He was an adult. An old man, even. Love shouldn't do this to people his age. And yet...

He squeezed James' fingers before awkwardly drawing away to reach for his glass of wine. He sipped at it, sighing afterward. "Letters. Heh. Cannae say I got a single one of those while I was in prison. Did talk tae my sister and Sammy a few times, though. Jamie as well."

He wished, honestly, that he'd been able to call James somehow. Just to hear his voice. To talk. To give him something to keep him going. He remembered that feeling all too well, no matter how much time had actually passed since then.

"Yer a fuckin' danger magnet. It's fine, though. Really, it is. Yer still alive. Yer here. I'll count my lucky stars for that."

[governmentfairy]

Mycroft listened intently as everyone spoke, soaking it all up as was his way. They were all very useful sources after all, and if he'd admit it in the privacy of his own mind, he also rather enjoyed their company. They were all sharp witted, observant and clever. Three traits he was incredibly fond of in another human.

He lifted his gaze and placed his own order, cautious and mindful of exactly what he chose. He enjoyed the food yes, and he was touched that Malcolm had chosen this particular spot with him in mind, but he was still careful.

"So, are we all of some agreement then?" He asked, regarding the opinions and outlines that had been shared. "I assume that my input has been passed along to the pair of you?" He cast another glance towards Malcolm, referencing their previous conversation when this idea had been conceived.

[tuckeresque]

"Yes," replied Malcolm. "I've told them everything, and we're all in agreement. Nothing needs tae happen right now, of course, but we at least needed tae discuss the matter. Yer plan can be put into place soon, Mycroft."

With nods, Malcolm noticed that everyone seemed satisfied. The remainder of the night was spent in good company with excellent conversation. When Malcolm noticed, after the food arrived, that Mycroft had asked for his meal without any naan, he quietly slipped a piece of his onto the man's plate. It was just a small gesture, something considerate and sweet, and he didn't mind sharing. Little things like that meant a lot to Mycroft, whether he was willing to admit it or not.

Later on, as they chatted, Malcolm sat back and listened to Jamie and Sammy discussing their latest addition to the household. It was a puppy they had been fostering and decided to keep. A foster fail, if you will. It was all rather heartwarming. They had an army of cats and dogs as it was, and it warmed him inside.

[inastonswithlove]

It struck something deep in him to hear Malcolm's words and thoughts on the matter. It was so... Personal. He'd be missed. It had been a long time since someone had meant something so personal. Just for him.

His eyes dropped to their hands and the gentle touch there, revelling in it. He exhaled another slow breath, calming the way his heart seemed to be doing something in his chest.

"Well. I've never had a death wish, not really, not like people seem to think, but I've found more recently that having something to come back to makes a difference."

[tuckeresque]

"Having something or someone tae live for does make a difference," murmured Malcolm, eyes rising take in James' expression. The moment was a precious one, and he vowed to enjoy all of this while he could, despite the fact that all he wanted to do was dash off.

"It's a nice thought, anyway. It helped me a fuckton while I was in prison." He huffed a soft, stupid laugh. "I missed ye that entire time."

He never said as much but he knew James had kept his place safe (and paid for) while he was away in prison. He was thankful for it. His sister couldn't have helped him all on her own. It was too much for her to do.

"And I wouldnae say that ye have a death wish, per se," he laughed. "Yer just a danger magnet is all."

[governmentfairy]

True to his very punctual personality, Mycroft stepped inside bang on time. He silently slipped through the door, greeting the hostess with all the charm a man of his calibre could muster — which was a lot. He spoke with her politely, asking after her day as she checked the booking and then followed her politely as she led the way through the room, Anthea trailing behind him too.

Once at the table Mycroft smiled at the small gathering, drawing a seat out for Anthea and tucking it in beneath her as she settled, then he took his own seat, smoothing his hands down the front of his suit jacket.

"Good afternoon," his gaze slid around all of them before settling on Malcolm for a moment, something in his eyes for a brief second before his attention shifted back to the table as a whole.

[tuckeresque]

Malcolm had a good eye. It was just another reason why he and Mycroft got on as well as they did. Of course, he noticed. He wasn't quite sure what to make of that look from Mycroft and initially assumed it was something negative. As surprised as he was, he couldn't speak.

Sam jumped in, beginning to explain the entire situation (in hushed tones), and they all listened carefully. Jamie occasionally piped in, along with Malcolm whenever it was necessary. Anthea was silent, taking notes from their impromptu meeting before a server arrived to take their orders.

For Malcolm, he ordered the rice dish and then glanced over at Sammy as she began chatting with the server as well. One by one, they went around their table and placed orders for meals.

[inastonswithlove]

Unable to quite help himself and letting go for just a moment, releasing his hold on that iron hard control and will, James reached out and let his fingers brush against Malcolm's. Though he was absolutely useless at regulating his own emotions, James was good at reading people and he got the feeling that perhaps they both needed this moment.

"Usually is a good time," he noted, his fingers still curved Malcolm's on the table and he lifted his glass to his lips to take a steady sip of deep amber, regarding the liquid as he swirled it in the glass after, watching as it caught the light.

"Sometimes I miss being here, too." He confessed. He loved his job, loved his country. But he knew that took advantage of him. Here, he was just James. And that was sort of nice.

[tuckeresque]

Malcolm's eyes were resting on their hands, his eyebrows furrowed in surprise. He didn't speak for a moment, couldn't even muster the strength for it, but he released a soft sigh of relief.

"Yer missed," he murmured. "And more than just sometimes."

This conversation had been coming for a long time. Malc understood that, and although it wasn't pretty and it might have ached, it had to eventually happen. Taking a wee chance, he let his thumb glide along James' knuckles and settle just over the space between his forefinger and thumb, sweet and gentle.

"Thanks for always coming back tae me, though."

[inastonswithlove]

James stared at Malcolm for a moment, bright blue eyes assessing and considering. His head cocked slightly, processing the response. It was a lot. There was so much there in the literal words and in the more private, secret things woven in with them. Heavy things. Things that were both beautiful and tragic at the same time.

He exhaled a slow breath, his chest tight with something he couldn't really fathom and certainly didn't have the words for. His line of work put the breaks on any further speculation or contemplation of the complex feelings surrounding it, because Malcolm had been quite right. His line of work meant things weren't ever simple, it didn't allow for happy endings. Just endings.

"Thank you," his voice was a low, steady timbre. A deep burr that said some of the things that he couldn't. Shouldn't say.

Exhaling a breath he took another sip of scotch, allowing it to sit on his tongue for a moment, grounding him, then he swallowed.

"It sounds astounding. Company and entertainment without strenuous activity and near death experiences."

[tuckeresque]

"One thing ye will never need tae thank me for is that," Malcolm said softly. "I owed ye my honesty, so there it is. It's all yers."

Everything inside of him ached. It was the closest he had ever come to something since the loss of his wife, and while it was right there in front of him, he still couldn't have it. James lived a complicated life. In the meantime, Malcolm blinked away any tears, feeling a bit silly for it, and cast a glance down at his empty pasta bowl.

"As for the rest, yeah, it'll be a good time. Ye could do with something fun and relaxing for once. Ye need it. Plus, ye know, they miss ye."

[dark-devilish-desires]

Kate was dialing 999 as soon as she heard Malcolm and the assailant start to scuffle. She gave her name and address, and then she started practically screaming. “I called you earlier to report a break in, but you couldn’t be fucked to come down here and check it out. And the wanker was STILL INSIDE, and he’s assaulting the Wolf of Westminster. You’re going to have the biggest fucking lawsuit on your hands if you don’t get your lazy, overfed public service arses down here NOW.”

Kate felt helpless, and watching Malcolm fight this man was tearing her heart to pieces. Malcolm was taking a beating, and it was her fault. She spied her cane propped up by the fireplace. Before she could consider the wisdom of her actions, she grabbed it and bashed the intruder on the back of the head with it. He went down like a sack of wet cement, out cold.

She rushed over to Malcolm and helped him to his feet. “Jesus, Malcolm, I’m so sorry. Are you alright? Should I call an ambulance?”

[tuckeresque]

The moment she pulled him to his feet, he slid right back down to sit. Thankfully, there was a hassock that he landed on.

"Jesus Christ, luv. For fuck's sake. I... I think... I think I'm alright." He paused, taking inventory of everything that hurt. His face was a mottled, bloody mess, hands too, his ribs ached, knees hurt, arse was sore. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. I havenae been in a fight since I was about sixteen. I'd like tae just... get us home, aye? After these fuckin' police come, obviously. Arseholes. Would ye mind driving later for us?"

Dazed, he turned to look at the crumpled heap on the floor. Maybe he was the only intruder. Maybe there had been more men than just him. Either way, at least they had one of them.

He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, gently pressing it to his nose and then wiping his face as well. He hissed all the while. "I'm so sorry, Katie. Couldnae let him just escape. I thought... I guess I thought if we kept him here, the police would finally have tae pay attention tae ye. That's really all that I was focused on."

[governmentfairy]

-----

Mycroft, of course, was working. He was in his office, reading through some correspondence before his next meeting and he glanced at his phone, resting face up on the edge of the desk, when it dinged.

Malcolm's name flashed across the screen and he delicately placed his pen aside and reached for the device. He quickly read through the message.

Excellent. Dinner sounds charming, I look forward to it.

MH.

Anthea walked in at that moment, looking up from her own phone to inform him that the car had arrived for his next appointment. She also spared him a secret little smirk.

Anthea, naturally, is on board.

He added after, unnecessary, he was sure. Where he went she followed.

[tuckeresque]

When the time came, Malcolm, along with Sam and Jamie, showed up to the small Indian restaurant and were shown to a table in the back. It would afford them the privacy they desperately needed. They ordered drinks and then chatted as they waited for Mycroft to arrive.

In the recess of Malcolm's mind, he was wondering if he could coax another meal out of Mycroft someday soon, maybe just the two of them. Any sort of flirtatious comment went over the poor man's head. He would have be careful about it and not just scare him away. But if there was anyone that Malcolm was more than willing to try again with, after losing his wife decades prior, than it was probably him. Sad, perhaps, but true. He wasn't even entirely sure that Mycroft felt those sorts of emotions, but perhaps it was well worth the try.

Sam glanced over at Malcolm, surprised to find him lost in thought. She reached out to gently brush his hand with hers. "Y'okay?" she whispered.

He started, laughing at himself. "Yeah, luv. Just fine. It's been a long day is all. Ye know better than most. We had that atrocious client today, Mike, that I fought with. I'll be alright."

Sam smiled as he squeezed her fingers, even if she didn't necessarily (or completely) believe him. "Alright, just checking."