Love me Dead. [ Anderson/Mycroft.]
YOu guys know that episode of clone with Jonathan Aris and Mark Gatiss? Inspired by all the Anderson and Mycroft comments.
Cornel Black walked into the small cell that was holding Dr. Gulick, the man who 'discovered' the cure to male pattern baldness. Well, actually it was given to him by the man who took his clone. None of that mattered. He had captured his goal, anyway. He'd changed everything about himself. His glasses, his hair was longer, and he had a beard but Mycroft, he'd know him anywhere. It was still Dr. Dick Anderson and nothing was hiding that from him. He had him back. He did feel a little bad about shaving off his beard, but really, he was more Anderson with it. Far more Anderson-y, Mycroft realized.
It wasn't long at all before Anderson came too, he looked frantically around, and he realized what was happening. Mycroft had found him. He relaxed slightly, and he frowned at the door waiting for him to come in, and quite possibly end his life here and now. He looked at the door, and he could feel razor burn on his face, and he was tied to a wall, and the world might be coming to an end, because he'd been found, three years, he'd thought he was safe, but he wasn't. He was the exact opposite of safe. He'd have been rich beyond his wildest dreams, and now, now he might be dying.
Mycroft could never hurt Anderson. He loved him too much, and so, when he wanted to kill Anderson, he'd kill some anonymous drone, because he'd never kill Anderson, no he needed him to much. He walked up to the other man, who was awake now, and caught his bare chin on two of his fingers, tilting it up so he could look at him and smiled at his fear a little. He always had been a sadistic man. He smiled darkly at him, and Anderson didn't even fight.
"Hello, Dr. Anderson, or is it Dr. Gulick now?" He asked, smirking. Anderson didn't try and dislodge his fingers from Mycroft's hand at all, but rather he just stayed still and glared up at him though his glasses. "I've had a lot of trouble finding you, Dick, you should know better than to try and escape our problems." Anderson winced slightly at him, but made no move to pull his chin away from him. They looked for a moment, and it was Mycroft who reacted first, pressing his lips against Anderson, who didn't even try and get away.
\Mycroft pulled back, and gently traced the side of Anderson's face with his hand, before standing straight again. His hands clasped around the tie he was wearing, pulling it down and exposing his neck to his properly. His gloved hands worked their way though the button's of his shirt, and smiled as he exposed Anderson's pale chest. He reached forward, and closed his hand around the ring, hanging from a chain. "You couldn't even make yourself get rid of the ring." He sneered, as Anderson tried to pull back.
"No, God help me, I couldn't." HE said, panting. "Because I loved you." he whispered.
:And you don't now, Dr. Gulick?" He whispered, his breath dancing across Anderson's ear. Anderson moved his head away, looking at him with contemptment.
"Yes, I do, you stupid son of a bitch." He hissed right back at him, and he tugged his wrists again, feebly trying to get free. And all Mycroft could do was smile at him, and watch as he tugged weakly, before giving up and sagging forward again. "What do you want from me, Holmes?" He asked, his eyes glaring, his whole face a picture of barely contained rage.
"That should be obvious, Dr. Anderson." My croft whispered. "All I want is you, here with me, forever."
:And why should I agree to that?" Anderson asked, "Are you going to give me Stockholm syndrome now?" He shouted. Mycroft giggled.
"No, no, Dr. Anderson my dear." Quite the opposite, he supposed. "I could give you everything you ever wanted. Money, secret fame, your own army, even." He said, almost daring Anderson to say no.
"And what if I just want to go home?" Anderson asked, finally.
"Well then I'll just have to kill you." Mycroft smiled, looking at the good doctor. "If I can't have you, no one can." He whispered, tugging Anderson's face a little closer to his own. "No one can, not even you." Anderson watched him up though his glasses, sneering at him, madly.
"Is that my incentive? To be your little pet for the rest of my life?"
"Oh no, Dr. Anderson, oh no, you'd have some freedom, you know. Your own little house, with a nice piano, and you can still see people, I'll have you gotten some drones, you know. And all you have to do, is stop leaving me." He said, one hand gently stroking the side of Anderson's face, smiling darkly. Anderson didn't pull away, but rather, his nuzzled his face into the side of his hand, taking in the comfort. Mycroft couldn't help but smile at him. It was nice to see he still retained some of his previous Anderson-yness. Anderson always drank in the close comfort that Mycroft offered him. He craved the warmth, and the touch, of a non-aggressive type. He wanted it, more than he'd ever anted anything in his life, and now it was being offered again. Was he really going to let that go? No, Mycroft thought he was not. Anderson tilted his head, still looking up though his glasses. Anderson let out a breath. "and what is your answer, Dr. Gulick?" He asked, his hand tilting Anderson's face up toward him. Anderson smirked.
