Greg sighed as he walks down the same street for the 3rd time, still unable to find the shop that he was suppose to go into to purchase some hand cream that Donovan asked for before he left to Korea. It was supposed to be his holiday damn it! Not a chance for people to ask him to bring back souvenirs or cheap makeup…He was already shagged from wandering around the train station, lost by their complicated lines and unknown language that made it harder for him to ask for directions. Looking down at the hand drawn map he had in his hand with the shop's name, he slowed down his steps to carefully peer at each and every shop and that was when he knocked into someone who smelled vaguely like someone he knew…
"What are you doing here?" He asked when the man stabled him, umbrella's handle pressing against his arm.
"Political business. It seems you've wasted a significant amount of time locating the place when it's just here." Mycroft pointed towards the shop just behind them, his hands falling back into position, all prim and proper.
"I didn't need your help…" Greg replies a little grouchily. Both of them had known each other for a long time now, their relationship a blur between being friends and enemies. They had the same dream once, to become detective inspectors together, solves crimes and have coffee but at that point in time when they applied for the post, Mycroft was clearly their first choice. It wasn't until the other decided he wanted to attain something larger that Greg was given the opportunity.
Who cares if it might just be his own opinion on this matter that he felt so much more underrated then and even now, 5 years later. "Of course you didn't." He heard Mr. 'Minor Position in the British Government' say and could imagine him rolling his eyes at Greg while steering him towards the direction of the shop.
"I swear, I hate you so much sometimes."
"I know."