Fortnum and Mason

Greg tidied the last pile on his desk in a hurry and just about managed to close his door quietly. Sally was still in the office by her desk, she had no reason to go home just yet, but he did. He had to admit that being in a relationship with Mycroft had changed some of his priorities. He'd climbed the ladder, he was where he wanted to be, and he didn't want to climb any higher. He had the kids; he had Mycroft and an amazing extended family. What more could he want in life.

Greg let the main door of New Scotland Yard swing closed behind him and he fought back the instinct to buy cigarettes as he took a step, and heard his mobile ring with the national anthem. Greg wasn't overly patriotic at the best of times, but this did describe his caller to a tee. Mycroft had once joked that Sherlock often called him the lost royal.

"Evening, Myc. I've just finished, but I bet you knew that." Greg joked as he walked to the corner. The weather was mild, considering it was less than a week to Christmas Day, and Greg hadn't bothered to tighten his scarf up from the slight wind.

"Good evening, Gregory. I know you've left work. Stop walking a moment and get into the car please, love." Mycroft's silken voice came down the line and went straight to his groin, and Greg stopped almost mid-step. True to form, and much practice, a black limousine pulled up to the pavement and the driver popped out to open the door. Gregory stooped to get in, and was pleasantly surprised when a warm hand grabbed his own and tugged him practically in a lap. "Much better, now you can see me too."

The car slid away from the pavement as Mycroft ducked his lips to Greg's own for a sweet kiss before he let him up but keeping their hands interlocked. Mycroft smelt like his favourite fragrance to wear, Issey Miyake, and it drove him crazy. Greg smiled stupidly to himself as he watched London sweep by and he knew they weren't driving back to his place in Clapham, and they were not heading to Mycroft's townhouse, so where?

"I'm taking you to a shopping trip, Gregory. You don't have to buy anything, but it's a shop that I love very much, I get my best things from there," Mycroft turned a slow smile on him, "I'll get you some of the best things from there too, if you would like me to."

"That depends entirely on where we're going."

Greg watched as bright blue eyes crinkled minutely, a look only a very discerning person would notice as a reluctant thought crossing Mycroft's very large and intelligent brain, one he showed only his closest of people. "What if I simply said, 'trust me'?"

Greg kissed Mycroft's knuckles one by one and on a whim, drew Mycroft's left thumb into his mouth and shifted to sit beside him. "I would say 'always', because I always trust you to know what you are doing Myc. C'mon, take me anywhere and you know I wont complain."

"Except for…"

"Except for that hotel in London that left me possibly scarred for life. If that ever happens again, I'll complain." Greg snorted as he leaned into the crooked arm that Mycroft offered him and felt as well as heard Mycroft's rich agreeable laughter of move through him.

Greg spoke about his day and his cases, and Mycroft made all the right noises and suggestions about where he could look for answers, sometimes even suggesting Sherlock for the legwork, which got them both laughing as they pulled up to the curb. Greg watched Mycroft's face take on a look of quiet glee and he opened the door himself, and not wait for the driver - which told Greg everything he needed to know. Mycroft was full of excitement and it was contagious, just like Christmas spirit.

When Greg stepped onto the pavement he knew he was just past Piccadilly, and he stood at the doors to Fortnum and Mason. He knew the place, had liked to come for the varied food court in the basement, but it was after eight in the evening now.

"Myc?"

"Gregory?" Mycroft stood behind him, his breath caressed Greg's ears and did more funny things to his stomach.

"Isn't it shut at this time?"

Mycroft guided them to the door and it opened before him, like magic, and they were enveloped into beautiful heat. "Not when your family have shopped here for many years and dispensed as much money as we have. We can start in the base level, with the food... or I can take you to the place I love the most in this store."

Greg smiled and led Mycroft to the stairs that wound up, and he wished they had a home together, with a staircase like the one they were on. Hand in hand they walked until they reached the menswear floor.

Mycroft's face broke into a momentary grin before swooping in for a quick kiss and then his public face was restored and he brought Greg into his world. Greg glanced and clothes that he knew he couldn't afford in his wildest dreams, and felt the cost literally dripping from them.

There were a set of pajamas that Greg knew Mycroft had, only a few weeks old, and when he touched them his suspicions were confirmed with the fine fabric that was far beyond the local Topman or Burton store from the local high street. A collection of umbrellas and walking canes Greg was sure he'd seen in Mycroft's study... Greg felt as though Mycroft had purchased half the store and taken it home.

Even in the stationary, Greg could see echoes of Mycroft using it in his own surroundings or the Diogenes Club. He felt quite lost and out of his league, and yet so humbled to have Mycroft share this part of himself.

"Pick something you like, Gregory, as a sort of pre-Christmas present. You can have anything here, but there is a condition, and it isn't based on my affections, don't worry."

"Name the condition and I'll see what I can do."

"Whatever you pick stays at my home. That is for the duration of Christmas, and beyond." Mycroft glanced at Greg and then chose to delicately rephrase. "Whatever you choose lives with me, as I hope you will come to live with me. Please."

The last was said quietly that Greg almost didn't hear, but he wasn't going to make Mycroft repeat himself, he hated it. Instead, Greg guided them over to the chessboard on display and fingered the carved wooden pieces.

"I like this, Myc. I like a game of chess to keep the old grey matter churning. If we kept this in the living room it would be the place of many a wager, don't you think?"

Greg enjoyed the sensation fo Mycroft's pale eyes connecting with his own brown ones, and the smile that broke free was the most heart warming of things.

A hand was held, then there was a chaste kiss or two, until Mycroft put some space between them and went to the sales assistant and spoke in hushed tones. On his return he simply guided Greg to the stairs where they walked down in companionable silence until they left the store, Mycroft only speaking to the employees as they passed them.

Within the confines of the car, Greg took Mycroft's hand in his own, and played with the signet ring on his pinkie. "You did just ask me to move in with you, right?"

"Yes."

"You got that I said yes, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Good, I was starting to wonder what was taking you so long."

"Well I had to wait for the right time. Christmas time. It's when I first realised how I felt about you. Think of where you were a year ago compared to now. I had to be sure that you were sure."

"After taking me to Fortnum's, I'm a sure thing. Take me home and do unspeakable things with your candy cane please." Greg managed to laugh out before his lips were rather more busy.


AN: Thank you for taking the time to read, favourite, and follow. I know my usual style is far more smutty, but when I write at the moment what comes out is fluffy and family orientated - who knew? Please leave me a review to let me know what you think, or even give a one word suggestion for what you would like to see, and I will try my best to make sure you get it before Christmas, worked into one of these drabbles.