Chapter 9 - Part II – Throw Down The Government, Become A President

The most radical thing to do

Is to love someone who loves you

Even when the world is seemingly

Telling you not to

I don't know what's wrong or right

I just know what's worth a fight

The most radical thing to do is to do what your heart

Tells you to

'Cause I do, assure you

That I do, adore you

I wish I could be that radical, that radical

- The Most Radical Thing To Do, The Ark

They both stepped out from Waitrose into the busy street, smiling as they did so. It was impossible to imagine that it had rained the previous night, since the sun cast rays of light over London, and the couple smiled delightfully at each other.

'It has gone far too long time since I last did some ordinary shopping' Mycroft said as they headed towards the closest underground station.

'I can't help but to agree.'

Greg made a snorting noise when the government official for what seemed to be the thousandth time adjusted his already faultless clothing.

'Stop doing that, Myc. You look gorgeous.'

Mycroft smiled appreciatively and then accepted the Oyster card offered him.

'It was not necessary for us to get me this.' He held up the plastic card towards his boyfriend.

'Oh, you see Myc, it was.' Greg really had to make an effort to make his voice heard in the crowded station as they went through turnstiles. He gained an uncomprehending look from his boyfriend, and he didn't get the time to finish the sentence since their train was just about to leave.

'Come on Mycroft!'

They couple ran towards the door, both with plastic grocery bags dangling in their hands. Mycroft dropped one of his as he accidentally smashed it against column, screaming out a loud 'Bollocks!' as he jumped into the tram after Greg, just as the doors of the train closed.

'I sure hope that is domestic, Gregory' he said as they both looked at the scattered eatables on the platform, grasping for air.

The detective inspector didn't answer; they just shared a gaze and started to laugh uncontrollably. The people around them didn't seem to notice, except for a little lady who made an annoyed sound behind her newspaper.

They stepped of the tube a few stations later, still giggling like little teenage girls. Greg's apartment was located just a few streets away, and they both enjoyed the short walk in the beautiful weather. Outside the uninspiring concrete building they walked by the gang of boys Mycroft had met the previous night. They must have recognized him because one of them, who seemed to be the leader, called out to them:

'Oh, look at the fairy copper, taking his boy toy for a walk.' The young man sneered. 'I didn't think the upper class allowed queers!'

Greg didn't care about the comment since he was fairly used to them and had learnt when to pick a fight, but he could see his boyfriend's jaw tighten abruptly.

'Don't listen Mycroft, it's not worth it.'

But he fell for deaf ears; the politician turned around and walked towards the chav who had spoken. Before Greg had got the chance to stop him, Mycroft had reached the gang and answered the defiant question with an even more provocative one:

'Oh, but you claim that it is so accepted inside your own social circle?'

The gang went quiet and waited for the leader's reply. Greg now stood next to his boyfriend, and put one of his hands on Mycroft's shoulders.

'It's not worth it Mycroft.'

'No, hold on Gregory, I want to see how this young gentleman is going explain my statement. I just think it is a bit disappointing that his dear acquaintances here do not seem to have noticed the fact that their leader is a so called queer himself.'

The leader took a step closer towards Mycroft; his gang following his movement with their eyes, some of them still not getting the insult.

'You should be more careful, puff, we would want to get th-'

'So we've changed the subject back to me now?' Mycroft cut him off in the middle of the sentence, looking down at him with mocking eyes. 'Perhaps you could tell them about that little Latino boy you have grown quite close to during the last three, no, four weeks.'

The boy just stared at him, mouth wide open.

'How you usually meet each other for nightly adventures in the tunnel by the new buildings down the street? But you should have been more careful, young man, since it seems like Eduardo might have given you-'

Mycroft didn't get the chance to finish the sentence because the boy hit him in the face, on his left cheek. The politician a step backwards, lifting his hand to his mouth to find blood seeping out from his mouth. It was under the wire that Greg managed to stop the boy from giving him another blow by stepping between them.

'How the hell did you know about that?'

The rest of the teenage chavs were as still as statues, one of them dropped the can of beer he had held in his hand. After a few seconds they started to argue with each other, throwing question after question at their fallen leader.

'Eduardo? The dancing fag? Is that what you've been doing while we've been forced to steal booze and cigarettes for you, eh? Just going out for a quick fag during the breaks? Apparently you meant literally!'

'He's lying! Can't you see that?' The leader started to panic and turned his concentration away from Mycroft to his changeable friends.

'Where did you really get that hickey from, Aiden? You said you've been shagging Shannon!'

The accusations kept coming at him. All the members of the little gang had now stood up and formed a circle around their former leader, like angry bees swarming around a glass of spilled out lemonade.

Mycroft grabbed Greg's arm and pulled him towards the entrance of the apartment. He leaned towards his boyfriend's ear, careful not to drip any blood on his shirt, as the moved away from the fighting chavs and said:

'I think we should leave them to sort things out themselves, Gregory.'

The detective inspector was still stunned by what just had happened, and only nodded approvingly as he opened the main door of the building.