Operation Brekkie

Genre: Family, Humour, Romance

Pairings: Greg and Molly

Main characters: Greg, Molly, Greer, Johnnie, Scott

"Mmmmmm… Greg?" Molly murmured as she tightened her arms around him under the covers.

"Hmmm?" he slurred in return, sleep not quite ready to surrender him to wakefulness yet.

"What day is it?" She sighed softly against the bare skin of his chest. Silently, he smiled at the ticklish sensation.

"Mmmm… Sunday morning, I believe," Greg replied, finally admitting to himself that he was, indeed, awake.

"We should be allowed to stay right here then, shouldn't we? Tell me again why we can't?"

Greg sighed, then opened his eyes, blinking several times. He turned his head to press a lingering kiss to the top of Molly's hair. Somehow, it still managed to smell of her shampoo. He took a few moments to bask in that.

"We have children, Love. Children who need attention and need to be fed."

"Ah. Yes. That's right, too," she sighed softly. "Well, I need to use the loo anyway. Stay right here darling, perhaps they're sleeping in."

Reluctantly releasing his grip on her, Greg gazed up at her as she rose and threw on a silk kimono-style robe – a gift from Sherlock after he'd found himself in Tokyo, blindly following a lead as Maisie would blindly follow a scent.

He lay there under the covers, content with life in general and the day in particular, when his nose wiggled.

Was that coffee? And sausages? Toast? But Molly had only been gone, what, two minutes, tops.

Greg knew he had married the most amazing woman in the world, but even THAT was beyond Molly's abilities.

Rising from the warmth of the bed, he threw on his own robe, tying it loosely at his waist. Tiptoeing out, he spotted Molly peering into the kitchen, unseen by the small beings at the centre of the hushed flurry of activity.

"The coffee is ready," Greer said, as quietly as she could without actually whispering. "Oh Scott, turn the burner down just a bit, the eggs will burn. Daddy always turns it down to here," she said, reaching up from her spot on a stool to adjust the heat setting.

"Oh never mind, Scott," John softly scolded. "Our sister has FORGOTTEN more about making breakfast than the two of us together have ever learned yet," he said, as he carefully turned sausages in the skillet, making sure they were evenly cooked. "That's why we put her in charge of 'Operation Brekkie', don't forget."

"Fine then," Scott said, but not without a smile. "Our itty bitty baby sister can cook circles around us. I'm fine with that. I've no problems taking orders from a girl."

"Mummy has taught you well then," Greer said softly. "Now that's better, look, they're still going to be perfect. It's not hard big brother, it just needs attention, that's all."

"How is this then?" John asked, patiently keeping vigil over the sausages. Greer peered over her shoulder, nodding silently.

"Oh, bollocks," Greer muttered, as she turned back to her own task. Greg blanched while Molly clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling a burst of laughter. Greg made a mental note to mind his verbal manners while around his children.

"Johnnie, could you squeeze these oranges for me please? I'm too little to do a good enough job. Switch?"

John chuckled softly as he switched places with Greer, pausing only to catch the toast as it popped.

"Where's the tray at anyway? We'll need the tray to serve them proper breakfast in bed," Scott pointed out.

"Pantry," Greer said, smiling into the skillet in approval at Scott's cooking skills. Peering into the pan of eggs, she gave John a nod of approval as well.

Greg and Molly, having seen enough and sensing that they should probably skedaddle back to bed, quietly and unseen by their children, retreated back to the privacy of their bedroom.

"Breakfast in bed, hey?" Molly said curiously. "I had no idea our children could cook."

"Greer can, with help," Greg reminded her. "How many times did she help me in the kitchen for brekkie? She's young but she's smart. She's got it well in hand."

"So it would seem," Molly purred, as she reached her arms back and let her robe slide to the floor. "I wonder how much time we have before they appear with that tray?"

Greg's dark eyes took on a mischievous gleam as he shrugged his own robe off. "Not long enough for that," he said, as they settled back under the covers, "but long enough for this," he said, bringing his arm around to envelope her and leaning in for a good and proper snog.

"Mmmmmmm… a meal for every appetite this morning, it seems," Molly murmured happily.