Up on the roof. Join me when you get home. GL.

Mycroft stared at the text curiously before ascending the staircase to the roof of their building. The door at the top of the stairs stuck, and he had to push at it with his hip. After some maneuvering and swearing, the door gave and he found himself in the open air.

He blinked a few times to adjust to the London night. Once his pupils had adequately dilated, he made out Greg's form lying in the middle of the roof, not moving. His heart rate quickened for a moment, but Greg called out to him.

"Blimey, I never thought you'd get home. C'mere."

Mycroft crossed the roof and was relieved to see his husband stretched out on a blanket, sipping a beer and staring up at the sky.

"Never been up here, decided to come up and watch the stars for a while."

Mycroft smiled down at him. "Mind if I join you?"

Greg scooted over in reply. Mycroft got down and stretched himself out, hearing a few weary complaints from his joints. He placed a small kiss on Greg's temple before resting his head on the man's shoulder.

They lay in contented silence for several moments, admiring the few stars to be seen through the city smog.

"I've always wondered what's out there," Greg said dreamily. "When I was a kid basically all I wanted to be in life was to be the Doctor's companion. Tom Baker's, specifically."

Mycroft chuckled. "I never really watched the show myself, but I was under the impression you could only be his companion if you were shagging him."

"Nah, it's not a pre-requisite. Mind you, if we're talking David Tennant as the Doctor…" his voice trailed off and he made a somewhat inappropriate sound.

Mycroft laughed and lightly smacked his husband on the arm.

"Remind me to have David exiled from the country first thing in the morning."

Greg laughed. "Not necessary love. I'm afraid you're stuck with me for good." He pulled Mycroft in tighter and kissed the top of his head

Mycroft was satisfied with this answer, and snuggled closer to Greg.

Greg gazed up at the sky again, watching the pinpricks of light dance in the heavens. He felt Mycroft's breathing become slow and steady as the politician fell into a light slumber.

I'd pick this over a trip in the TARDIS any day, Greg thought to himself