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A Silent Victory (Mycroft/Eames -Finale)

"I..." Eames gulped down a few breathes.

"Yes?" Mycroft inclines his head, eyebrows lifting in that quizzical way they often did.

"I em..." another hesitant pause. "I... I can't.."

A slight grin comes to Mycroft's face. "You can't, what?"

"I just.. I just can't.. I.." Eames chewed at his lip in utter misery as he stared down at the pie and the chocolate.

"You can't choose or.." Mycroft let the words linger in the air. "You can't have either?" he'd given the man so many pies and so many chocolate bars there was no doubt in his mind the man was growing sick of them. Both figuratively and quite literally.

Making a tortured noise Eames drops his head to his arms and admits to his defeat. For all of his joking about the methods this man had, he couldn't laugh any more over them. He had been right in saying how he would be able to cure him of this strange addiction.

Mycroft leans forward, cutting himself a piece of pie. "Well then.. That settles it. Consider yourself cured Mr. Eames."

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