0. A Bite Far Too Sweet.

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Albert didn't know how he ended up in this strange and rather embarrassing situation, or at least he knew it but-...

He could swear it was unintentional!

If he had known beforehand that a simple (and delicious) piece of chocolate would trigger such an unpredictable domino effect as had happened that evening, he certainly wouldn't have dared to eat even the smallest piece of it, not even the corner!

But let's start from the very beginning, about an hour before the disaster...

It was a late Friday afternoon like any other, Albert had just returned from the MI6 base, after having reported to his brother Louis, or rather, to the young agent 'M', on the (very stealthy) tailing he had conducted with Fred on a potentially dangerous subject that the organisation had been watching for several weeks, gathering all the information they could. No one too important to pose a threat to the Nation, but not someone who could easily be let off the hook: it was a man, probably in his forties, with no distinguishing features either in his clothing or in his physical characteristics, which made him anonymous and perfect for his field of work. The trafficking of illegal drugs.

Despite the plan he and his brothers had plotted years before, mainly to get into Mycroft's good graces, and despite the fact that the three of them three of them successfully uncovered and eliminated a group of drug dealers with large quantities of opium in their possession, it seemed that those sort of drugs still circulated in London, meaning that the threat hadn't been completely eliminated, yet

Now, however, Albert had no desire to contemplate his job, not when he finally crossed the threshold of his home and was greeted by a pleasant vanilla scent from a small perfumed candle placed on the table next to the entrance, where their photograph were placed. Their maid, Jane, must have lit it to give the place a bit of a change before going home.

A fine decision, ideed.

The brunette closed the lightly screeching door behind him, which he needed to fix in a not too distant future, immediately stripping off all those extra clothes which, while they did protect him from a possible and annoying cold, only made him feel heavier when all he wanted at that moment was to feel light. "I'm at home." he said aloud, knowing there was no one at home, although-... well, it wasn't quite right to say that: their adorable and very loyal Charlie was in his comfortable cage in Mycroft's office, but given the time, Albert assumed he was probably taking a late afternoon nap.

Immediately after formulating this image in his mind, the brunette felt all the fatigue his body and mind accumulated over the day descending on him like a bucket of ice-cold water. He was exhausted. Occasions like this were rare, as his internal clock was no longer a clock at all, it was more like-... a set of gears with hands that somehow still worked.

A long and rather loud yawn quickly followed. That was a clear sign: he needed some good wine in his system, after all it was still early to go to sleep and he didn't think he could be able to fall asleep anyway. Not with all this silence, it wasn't good for his conscience.

With heavy, almost dragging steps, Albert walked into the kitchen, where a good bottle of Chianti was waiting for him in the refrigerator. Having taken possession of the bottle and a glass goblet, he moved into the living room and dropped gracefully onto the sofa. A satisfied mumble escaped the brunette's lips, followed by a sigh of relief as his body made contact with the comfortable surface. Of course, it would have been even better if his husband had been there with him, but unfortunately being the Director of a Special Unit ( as well as being under the Queen's direct command) required many sacrifices. Albert uttered another sigh before pouring a generous amount of that exquisite nectar of the gods into his glass and tasting it without further ado.

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