Muffled sounds from the kitchen and warm, golden sunlight on his skin woke Mycroft the next morning. He blinked against the blinding light until his eyes adjusted to it. Outside, the sky was blue and clear. Everything looked so much brighter and more colourful than he had ever seen it. Greg was sleeping with his head on Mycroft's chest, breathing softly, eyelids twitching in a vivid dream. Their legs were tangled in the thin sheets and Mycroft felt the heat of his boyfriend's body on his skin. Boyfriend. He closed his eyes and let the memories of the previous night play through his head, feeling endless happiness like tiny fireworks in his stomach. The gentle touch, tender words and feelings he had never had before, not like this, not this strong and passionate and important. He wanted to kiss every inch of Greg's skin, to be as close to him as possible and never let him go. One day he would be, as close as a human could be to another and the thought brought a smile to his face and his cheeks blushed a soft pink.
Warm, soft lips touched his and he opened his eyes to look in Greg's warm, brown ones. "Good morning." he whispered, his voice still hoarse with sleepiness. "Thinking naughty thoughts?"
Mycroft laughed softly. "Just a general feeling of happiness. I do have a half naked, handsome man lying next to me." he whispered, glancing down Greg's bare chest. "hm-hm" Greg nodded, kissing Mycroft's collar bone "I know the feeling."
There was a knock at the door."If you sweethearts are awake, breakfast is ready and it's a lovely day outisde!" Wanda Holmes sang sweetly and shuffled of without waiting for a reply. "I feel like a teenager again" Greg laughed and Mycroft buried his face in the pillows.
"We have some good news and some bad news, which do you want to hear first?" Mrs Holmes greeted them at the breakfast table. She and her husband had prepared a splendid, quite american breakfast with eggs, bacon and pancakes, and a vase of flowers in the middle of the table. "I don't like when people say that, it's so pointless. Neither one will change the other just because it's being said first." Mycroft said. His mother rolled her eyes. "Fine! The man who came to you, the Greek, his body was found in the Thames last night. I believe Gregory has some missed calls on his phone." "Is that the good news or the bas news?" Mycroft asked, dodging the rag his mother threw at him.
"The good news is, John will return to Bakerstreet today, which means Rosie, your father and I will be out of your hair." "That really is good news, I am running out of paper for her to draw on. And as to the discovery of Mr Melas, no one was really expecting any other outcome, did they?" Mr Holmes sighed. "Do we have to talked about murder and corpses at the breakfast table?" "Just like old times, isn't it?"
"So, Mycroft" Mr Holmes said in a desperate attempt to change the subject "How did your date go?"
"Oh it was rather horrible, actually." Mycroft said calmly. "but it was a nice evening nevertheless."
"You were home very early." His mother remarked.
Mycroft looked at her irritably. "Mother, I am not a child who needs supervision!"
"We're staying in the same house, Mykie, I just observed."
"This is humiliating"
"I'm your mother, it's my job!"
Greg chuckled, padding his boyfriend's back sympathetically.
Mr Holmes decided to save his son any further embarrassment and started asking a row of questions about Lestrade's family and career, leaving his wife to watch them with an amused twinkle in her eyes.
It was a pleasant afternoon, the february sun shining warmly through the bare branches of the tall oaks surrounding the park. Rosie was watching the ducks in the small pond, laughing merrily as her grandfather threw breadcrumbs in for them to catch and the creatures scuttled about, quacking loudly, much to the little girl's delight. Mycroft had bravely taken Greg's hand, and was looking slightly nervous as they walked around the garden. The other visitors, however, we mainly families with little children to look after or retired old couples and neither of them paid them a lot of attention. Mrs Holmes was staring at her new phone with a very serious expression, trying to take pictures of her granddaughter and her husband.
Greg closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the sun warm on his skin and Mycroft's hand in his.
"A wonderful day to spend the last day of my vacation." he said.
"Did they assign you the case of the Musgraves and Mr Melas' murder?" Mycroft asked.
The detective nodded. "Probably gonna consult your brother on this, anyways. Though if they haven't found any trace of them so far, there really isn't a high chance of us finding them. Probably left the country."
Mycroft arched his brow, shaking his head. "Oh Gregory, I wouldn't say so. They took a large amount of jewellery and solid gold out of that chamber, they will have to sell it somewhere if they want to make money. You just need to find out who has been trying to sell a hundred years old, dusty goods in a hurry. I could, of course, provide you with a reliable source, as long as the informant remains absolutely anonymous."
Greg grinned and nodded. "Maybe I should consult you instead."
"Oh please don't, I really do not do footwork. I'm only making an exception because they almost killed my brother and his companion. I will make sure they pay for that."
"We'll get them." Greg said, pressing Mycroft's hand softly. "Oh and John texted me, he's feeling better, Sherlock is fussing over him, like a concerned parent and Mrs. Hudson is free this weekend so I only need to find a nice place to take her to."
"I can make arrangements, of course"
"No, you won't. My lost bet, my responsibility."
They stopped their walk, watching the Holmes' parents chat merrily with a young couple, bending over a small toddler. A dog was jumping up and down, trying to get their attention, until it gave up and busied itself chasing the ducks into the pond.
Mycroft watched Greg fondly, happiness spreading through his chest at the sight of him, the sun glistening in his eyes, watching the dog happily.
Greg turned and met his eyes. They looked at each other for a moment. Then, with a mischievous grin, Greg pulled Mycroft into the shade of a large, old oak tree and gently pushed him against the trunk, gently kissing him. "Sorry, I couldn't resist." He whispered at Mycroft's surprised expression. "It's alright." Mycroft smiled, leaning his forehead against Greg's. The sun broke through the branches, warm on his skin, as he looked into endlessly loving, brown eyes. "You look so much happier now." Greg said. "Promise me, if you are ever worried about anything, just tell me." Mycroft nodded. "You make me very happy, Gregory Lestrade." He whispered with a playful smile, leaning his head against his boyfriend's shoulder.
"Excuse me?" a high pitched voice sounded and they looked around in confusion. A little redheaded girl was staring at them, head cocked to the side.
"Are you married?" She asked.
Greg laughed warmly, kneeling down so he was on eye-level. "No we aren't married."
She furrowed her brows. "But you're together? Like a buy and a girl but with two boys?"
Mycroft crossed his arms defiantly. "Yes, so what?"
The girl bit her lip thoughtfully. "Then who does the cleaning?"
"Well we both do." Greg explained. "But I'm the better cook."
She seemed satisfied with his answer and nodded. "My aunt can't cook well. I wish I had two dads, then I wouldn't have to live with her. My name is Amelia." She stretched out her small hand.
Greg shook it politely. "I'm Greg and that's Mycroft. Are you in the park all by yourself?"
She shook her head. "I'm looking for a friend. He'll show up one day, I'm sure." She sighed. "But I'd better go or my aunt will be very cross." With a last goodbye she ran off again, her hair flying after her in an orange flame.
"Remember to call, dear!"
"Yes mother, I will."
"And do bring Gregory over for dinner sometimes."
"I'll consider it."
"And do look after your little brother!"
"I always do."
"I meant like a normal person would, phonecalls and visits, not security cameras and GPS tracking!"
"Beggars can't be choosers!"
"Myc!"
"Yes, fine, I'll visit him. And now please leave, you're making everybody nervous!"
Mr Holmes hugged his son tightly and Mrs Holmes planted a loving kiss on both Mycroft and Greg's cheeks, before the door closed behind them with a bang and her son dropped on the couch with a sigh.
"You'd think we live oceans apart." He exhaled.
"Well, neither do we, but I know I'll miss you when I'm back to work. We won't be seeing each other for a while, will we?"
Mycroft shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid not, my love, I have ignored a lot of phone calls the last days and this country will be in trouble if I continue ignoring it. Also, I do believe you and my brother have a murderer to catch."
"I'll think of something."
Greg kissed Mycroft's forehead, then his cheek, then chin, going along his throat, until he reached the collar of his shirt. He grinned at him playfully. "Well since it is our last night together for a while, we should make it count."
"Hmhm agreed." Mycroft's eyes lit up with excitement. "Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?" He asked.
"Doctor Who marathon?"
"Get your fez and bow-tie, I'll make the popcorn!"