Chapter 9 – Part III – It's Not a Miracle We Needed

Counting all different ideas drifting away

Past and present, they don't matter now the future's sorted out

Watch her move in elliptical patterns

Think it's not what you say, what you say is way too complicated

For I minute, though, I couldn't tell how to fall out

- 1901, Phoenix

'That was a bit unexpected.'

Greg picked out a bag of ice from the freezer and handed it to Mycroft who accepted it and pressed it to his slightly swollen cheek. The politician shifted in his seat on the sofa, and then said dejectedly:

'He got nothing more than he deserved.'

"Maybe. Would you care for some tea?"

'I would love a cuppa, yes, if it is not too much trouble.'

Mycroft smiled at the detective inspector and received a small wink. Greg put the kettle on and started to prepare the tea tray.

'But how did you know all these things, Myc?'

'I am a Holmes after all, my dear' said Mycroft smugly.

'The only difference is that I, unlike my brother, can choose when to, how shall I put it, use my powers of deduction, as my brother so ambitiously calls it. It was not too difficult to work out; the dirt on his jeans gave away most of it.'

'But it was still not necessary to do it, Mycroft.'

The government official shrugged, and then pulled out his buzzing mobile phone from his pocket.

'Excuse me for a moment Gregory, it is of national importance.'

He stood up and went into the bedroom, leaving Greg by the prepared tea tray wondering if there was another war breaking out somewhere or if the queen just wanted advice on what the colour of her new hat should be. Smiling to himself he took the tray and put it on the small messy coffee table. He hadn't lived in the apartment for more than just over week but it was more disorganized than the thoughts in his head. Still, most of his things were still in cardboard boxes. He had been lucky to find somewhere to stay on such short notice, Sgt Donovan's cousin had just finished his studies at university and moved to America and was kind enough to lend his apartment to Greg, at least for two months until the lease must be renewed.

But you don't have any plans on staying here much longer, have you? Greg thought to himself, and he was not entirely sure whether that was something he was happy about or not. I do want us to be together, but things are maybe moving a bit too quick. Again.

Mycroft interrupted his train of thought as he stepped into the room and put down his phone in of the pockets of his jeans.

'I need to go on a meeting; Europe's economy is at stake…'

Greg felt as if his heart turned to stone.

'But I told them that they had to deal with the matter without my help. This is after all far more important.'

Mycroft sat down at the sofa and started to pour tea into the two chipped cups.

'And since I have been working overtime a lot lately, well always, and I therefore thought that it was not more than right.'

Smiling like a little child who had dared to ride his bike for the first time without having one of his parents holding the rack, he looked up at his boyfriend, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement.

Greg sat down next to him and took one of the cups which he poured some milk in. After a few seconds the politician's facial expression changed to a more confused one, and Greg could see that he wondered if he had done something wrong.

Oh why can't you just admit it? You adore the way he always does his best, even if the world might fall apart as a result of it. And you love him.

He put down the cup on its saucer again, and took a deep breath. Then he turned towards Mycroft and kissed him.

The familiar touch of Mycroft's lips sent sparks through the whole of his body, and he wondered why he had restrained himself from doing this again for such a long time.

Mycroft was caught completely of guard, but luckily he hadn't been holding his cup in his hands either. After a few moments he closed his eyes and opened up his mouth willingly for Greg's elated tongue, which started to re-explore his mouth.

After a few moments Greg stopped. As their mouths departed he put his hand on Mycroft's unharmed cheek, stroking over it slowly. Their eyes met, and for the second time that day they started to giggle.

'Dear me, Mycroft, I can't help it. I love that you're really trying to make this work. And how you manage to look so good in a pair of jeans. Not to mention your gorgeous face, especially when you're laughing. But most of all, I love you.'

Mycroft smiled even wider and leant forward towards his boyfriend so their foreheads met. Still looking the other man in the eyes he said:

'I love you too, and I will do whatever it takes to make this work. Even if it means that the world quite literally will go under.'