Constellations Strung With a Shooting Star | Sherliam

Chapter Four

"Fred, I have a request to make," William hums, glancing at the young man. He'd called him to his room a few minutes ago, as he had a minor mission in mind for him. A mission that absolutely, positively was not an excuse for a desire in the back of his mind.

"Of course, master William. What would that be?" The quiet man asks, his gaze untelling and blank as always.

"I know that I usually only ask you to do this on weekends, but I'd like you to inspect over Mr. Holmes for today," the blond says, pausing for a moment, "... And I would like to come along this once."

As odd as that sounded, Fred couldn't object. He nods his head, still seeming as indifferent as it was before. "Understood. That can be done." He's silent for a few seconds, before he opens his mouth again. "I don't mean to question your authority, but why do you want to come this time? In fact, the amount of attention that you've given to Mr. Holmes has caught my eye."

Recently, Porlock has been asking more questions and providing more input, which was truthfully magnificent to witness to William. The progress and growth he's had over such a small amount of time made him admittedly proud.

"Has it? I apologize if it has concerned you at all," William chuckles softly, shaking his head some, "but a lot of attention is required, is it not? When we have a new role in the story all of the sudden like this, it's important to assure that they fit the role and watch carefully. Besides, the detective is a key role now. Key roles especially deserve quite a bit of our observation."

Whatever protesting thought against that statement bites at the back of Moriarty's mind, he immediately washes it out before he can process it. That was a fact. He's sure of it. He has to be sure of it.

"I see. That does make a lot of sense, and it benefits our mission to be constantly updated," the younger man agrees, no objections whatsoever. Though, there was most likely still a portion of him questioning that statement, which he kept quiet about. Perhaps one day, he could be fully honest.

"... Though," he then mumbles out of the blue, "is there a reason you're joining me this time? Is something awry?" He usually wouldn't ask such a thing, usually out of caution as to not sound as if he was against William's orders. Even now, there is a small smudge of nervousness as he asks this. The blond can at least see that.

"I have some free time," he lies, smiling gently. He knows very well that he doesn't have nearly enough free time to go out of his way to watch Sherlock in London, plenty of papers to grade clogging his workspace. He made as many excuses as he needed to let himself do this.

More questions soar through Porlock's mind, but this time, he holds them all back and lets them only linger endlessly. "Understood. Very well then, we'll set off as soon as you're ready."

William smiles and nods, heading right for the door. Fred follows behind him, taking that as a signal that the other was ready now. "Let's hurry. Although I do have free time, I would prefer it if we weren't there after dark." He chuckles, earning yet another nod from the young man.

-

"... Master William...? William, do you hear me?"

William's eyes finally shoot over to the young black haired man calling for him; for the first time in a while, too. He clears his throat, smiling gently at him to save face as cleanly as physically possible.

"Apologies. Were you asking me something?" He hums, a gentle layer of curiosity within his tone.

"I'm sorry for distracting you. I was asking if you noticed something... You're staring so intensely, it's almost unnerving. But I haven't noticed anything very note-worthy for quite some time." Fred's voice is mumbled and quiet, as his eyes trace back down.