As Greg opened the door to his flat, he instantly became aware that he wasn't alone.
Strange noises from the kitchen alerted him to an intruder and Greg hunted around for something to use as a weapon.
Mycroft's umbrella leant up against the door frame. He hadn't realised that his lover had left it there but he picked it up anyway. It'd do.
He supposed that Mycroft had several of his trademark umbrellas and had taken a different one to Geneva for the week.
He slowly and stealthily crept towards the kitchen, eyes darting from side to side, checking for anything out of place.
A clatter from the kitchen startled him and Greg almost walked into the sofa as he quickened his approach to the kitchen.
He paused a moment, listening at the door but couldn't hear voices or any noises he could immediately identify.
Just a rattling of pans and cupboards being opened.
What were they doing in there?
Greg swallowed around a nervous lump in his throat and pushed open the kitchen door, lifting the umbrella threateningly above his head before he spied the apron-clad figure in front of him.
"Mycroft!" he exclaimed, lowering the makeshift weapon, "What are you...?"
His lover turned around, and Greg noticed he was holding a large decorated cake.
Mycroft smiled, "Gregory, Happy Birthday."