Chapter 20

Greg wove his way across the beer garden to where John sat basking in the early evening sunshine looking out at the lazy Thames. Once this was a regular Friday night activity but then their grieving processes had taken different directions and the time that elapsed between meetings grew longer as John sank further into depression. Not that he acknowledged it as depression back then, throwing himself into the questionable nightlife of the seedier side of London looking for something - anything - to give him that same high he got from Sherlock. Greg stopped going out too, and kept an eye on his friend from a distance, trailing around after him unseen. Mycroft helped, claiming to be keeping a promise to Sherlock that he would care for the man in the event of his demise, but it seemed the other Holmes had a personal motive too that no one, not even Greg, had suspected.

"Don't you ever want to go on a date?" John asked, taking the icy cold pint from him and swallowing a large mouthful.

"What? This isn't a date? Are you asking me out officially now?" Teased Greg, mischievous brown eyes twinkling over the rim of his glass.

"Twit! I mean with Gabe. You never actually go out as a couple, yet you can't keep your hands off each other at the Haven or the safe house, or even on runs. You disappear together and no one comments, but you never date."

Greg shrugged. "Why would he want to be seen with me? What would his mates think?"

"That he has a partner that loves him?"

"Love?" Greg scoffed, but he looked sad. "Anyway we have a sort of working relationship out here. He was one of Sherlock's homeless network for a while before I... Before I took him to the Haven. He gets me information... Not quite Sherlock's calibre but it's a good excuse for me to help him out with a bit of cash without it feeling like charity."

"You're an idiot. I may not understand the attraction but he's head over heels with you and you should stop being such a coward. What if...? What if you lost him tomorrow?"

"You and I have the same affliction John; we need to care about people. I'd get over it."

"Yeah, just like I got over Sherlock. I was doing great at that. Took a while but Myc helped me appreciate seizing the day."

Pleased to find an opening to turn the conversation away from him, Greg said, "Speaking of Mycroft, I thought you two would be cozied up somewhere tonight celebrating his return?"

"He's not back until tomorrow."

"Yes he is, he got back last night. Brought Marcus with him. He didn't call you?"

"No, I guess he was busy. He'll probably call later. So the mysterious Marcus is back too? What's he like?"

Greg snorted. "Wildly good looking and deeply unpleasant. Imagine Sherlock with improved social skills and absolutely no morals. Sexy, intelligent and nasty and he actually works for Mycroft in some discreet capacity. He'd make a good Bond villain."

"Sounds intriguing."

"Sounds like a wanker, and he is. Can't stand the man; none of us can apart from Emma who believes the best of everyone. He despises us all equally and he'll hate you, because you've got what he wants. Mycroft believes the sun shines out of his arse but he won't give Marcus what he craves, which is essentially power, but he thinks he can sleep his way to the top."

"Right. Well no doubt I'll meet him in due course." John wasn't a jealous man but the warm fuzzy feeling of knowing Myc was back had receded somewhat. Greg registered his lack of enthusiasm.

"Sorry. Look, why don't you come back to the Haven tonight? I wasn't going to go, but you've got me thinking about Gabe and I think I need to talk to him. Mycroft will be there, and Marcus unfortunately, but Myc will be pleased to see you I'm sure." John agreed, but only because he was tied to Greg for the evening as his temporary handler while Mary was on a date and heading off alone, even home to bed, would have the petite blonde giving him hell.

When they got to the Haven the only person in evidence was Gabe, stretched out in front of an old Cary Grant movie and munching on a bag of mini doughnuts. Greg dropped a kiss on his upturned face earning him a huge adoring smile that brightened the young man's usual sulky face, and went to make coffee for the three of them. Gabe thrust the half empty packet at John "want one?"

"Oh, cheers. All on your own?"

"Not now," he sighed happily, watching Greg move around the kitchenette. "I was bored but now I'm not. Em's gone away for a few days so I was stuck with Mycroft and his fuckwit arselicker last night. Torture! They kept trying to get rid of me but I stayed to piss them off until they got fed up and went to bed."

"Right. And where are they now?"

"Dinner at one of their posh fancy restaurants I think. Said they'd be back by ten. Doughnut?"

"No, I'm good thanks. Save some for Greg." John smiled at the weird looking boy who seemed to be accepting him more in recent weeks, making little bits of small talk and not growling at him quite so often. It was sweet to see how excitable he became around the DI, like an overgrown metal-enhanced puppy. Gabe shuffled up the sofa to let his lover sit behind him, wriggling until Greg shifted position enough to wrap his arms around his waist and pull him back against his chest. He insisted on feeding Greg the last two sticky doughnuts giggling when he sucked the sugar off his fingers. "I hesitate to use the word in connection with Scotland Yard's finest, but you two are adorable. Puke-making, but definitely adorable."

"Yeah, I know I am, not sure about Greg," laughed the skinny boy, yelping when Greg slipped a hand up his t-shirt and tickled his ribs mercilessly. He didn't stop until Gabe was a giggling squealing wreck sprawled across his lap, begging breathlessly for mercy.

"Do you fancy going to see a band tomorrow night?" The DI was smiling but John could see he was braced for rejection and he hoped he'd read Gabe correctly before he'd put the idea in Greg's head.

"With you?" Gabe went still, biting his lip nervously. "Like going out together?"

"Yeah, you don't have to, just a dumb idea."

"Yes I want to please."

Greg chuckled, and John sighed with relief and winked at him. "I don't think anyone's ever said 'please' to me before for a date. Is it ok to call it a date?" Gabe threw his arms around his neck and planted a smacking wet kiss on the older man's lips. "Mm I'll take that as a yes then."

There were voices approaching along the corridor, both male, one distinctly Mycroft but sounding slightly off to John's ears. He realised why when the two men staggered into the room both flushed and apparently a bit worse for alcohol. Mycroft's tie hung loosely around his neck and his waistcoat was unbuttoned, as were the top two buttons of his pale grey shirt. The man behind him was similarly dishevelled, tall and slim with red wavy hair, a few shades lighter than Mycroft's, and a close cropped beard. He walked with one hand casually around his companion, hand resting proprietorially on his waist, and his mouth close to the other man's ear as he whispered some joke which had Mycroft guffawing.

John stood up, tugging his shirt straight and waiting for Mycroft to notice him, which he did at the same moment Marcus's lips brushed against his cheek. It could have been an accident; John very much wanted to believe it was, but it made Myc jump guiltily and stumble into the kitchen counter. "Oops," Marcus giggled, "bit pissed."

Mycroft arranged his face into a broad grin stepping unsteadily towards John and throwing his arms around the small man's neck. "John, you should have called."

"Yes, you really should. We wouldn't have rushed back." Marcus said silkily, falling against the doorframe and crossing his arms and ankles. John peered around Mycroft's shoulder at the cocky man taking an instant dislike to him.

"I heard you got back last night?" John gripped Mycroft's forearms and disentangled the smirking man from his neck, going on tiptoes to plant a perfunctory kiss on his boyfriend's cheek. "I thought I'd come and surprise you."

"Lovely surprise," came the sarcastic voice from the door.

John was aware of Greg and Gabe getting up behind him and moving towards the sour faced man. Gabe loomed over him, stepping into his personal space, but Marcus simply leered up at the boy pursing his lips and making mock kissing noises. "You want some of this darling? Gregory's a bit past it these days. I can make you scream."

"Fuck off Marcus and leave him alone." Greg pulled Gabe past him and out to the corridor. "Always a fucking joy to have you home. Don't feel obliged to stay."

"Yes well, I think I'll head off. I don't want to interrupt your evening Myc, so I'll call you tomorrow." John stalked towards the door intending to leave before things got ugly but Marcus had to have the last word.

"Run along little cub, let the big wolves play."

His last 'word' was "urgh!" when John's fist connected with his stomach.