Mycroft waited until Gregory was asleep to slip into the next room and make the call.
"Ah, Mycroft. I was wondering if we would be hearing from you while you're here."
"Don't be cute with me, Jack Harkness," Jack took a breath, most likely to comment that he couldn't help being cute. Mycroft rolled his eyes at himself for giving Jack that opening and continued, "even if I did not know when I've been drugged, I certainly could not have missed your Mr. Jones at my tailor's today."
"Yeah, Ianto does turn heads everywhere he goes..." Jack's sigh was wistful, Mycroft's was long-suffering.
"I knew him long before you were aware of his existence. Even if he has forgotten me, I have not forgotten him. Now I don't require a full debriefing of yesterday's events, that would be a waste of retcon, but I would like to know how Gregory fared." Mycroft crept to the door of the bedroom and peered in at the silver-haired man. He had curled up in Mycroft's usual space and was drooling quietly on Mycroft's pillow. Mycroft smiled softly.
"Greg was fine, great even. Just like last time. I wish you'd bring him around, you know. I wish you would come around for real. Stop this retcon nonsense and get back in the game. You know you miss it." Mycroft heard a snore come through the line. He couldn't believe that Jack would have this conversation while in bed with Ianto. The younger man knew that Mycroft had once been involved with Torchwood, of course, but not in what capacity. He had a feeling that if he ever found out he would not be getting anymore smiles from Mr. Jones.
"And you know that I can't. I don't do legwork anymore, and you know perfectly well why I won't." A sharp intake of breath, and a pause, followed by the sound of a door opening and closing. That had gotten Jack out of bed, at least.
"How many times do I have to tell you that what happened to Torchwood One was not your fault?"
"It was, however, my responsibility. I cannot let something like that happen again. As for Gregory joining up, I cannot allow that either." Mycroft almost missed the pause, but it was there.
"Sentimental of you. That's good. You need to remember that's not a bad thing, Mycroft. I've seen humans fight harder for love than anything else in the universe."
"Why do you think I'm fighting you now? Once or twice is fine, but I am not letting Gregory become another body in a Torchwood morgue! Even I, who have no memories of his reaction to the truth, know that if he were able to remember he would run off without hesitation to save the world. He does it every day, and it is already hard enough without having to worry about him chasing after much worse things than human criminals."
"And how do you think Greg would react if he knew you were authorizing us to take away his memories?" Mycroft grimaced. How would Gregory react? Not very well at all, he wagered. In fact, he'd predict an umbrella theft shortly followed by an incidence of vandalism centered in Mycroft's kitchen.
"You are repeating yourself, Jack. We went over this when you tried recruiting Sherlock. At least with Gregory I know you are not trying to seduce him." Jack chuckled into the phone.
"Don't be so sure. But really, think about bringing Greg around? Ianto's fond of him. We could go out to dinner, just the four of us." Mycroft shook his head. Did Jack really think he was so uninformed?
"That could nullify the retcon and you know it. Gregory has a strong mind. I can't take the chance. Perhaps we will come back and help you avert disaster again soon, but I won't have him hunting down weevils on a regular basis."
"It didn't."
"Excuse me?"
"This time, Greg didn't remember last time. The retcon held. Just to control variables, we could wait the same amount of time and then you could bring him around for dinner. We gave him the same dose as last time." It would be interesting to see Gregory interact with Jack and Ianto in a social setting...
"I shall have to think about it and let you know when I've come to a decision."
The next morning, safely ensconced in a nondescript black car with Anthea, they headed back to London. Gregory was holding Mycroft's travel coffee mug again this morning. He made a mental note to get him one of his own, perhaps with motorbikes on the sleeve in place of umbrellas... Gregory and Anthea bickered back and forth for a while before he turned to Mycroft.
"You know, Love, a trip to the tailor is not actually a business trip. Did you work at all while we were here?"
"A bit."
Gregory and Anthea shared a grin.