Hi!

Not a very long chapter here, but I hope you enjoy it!

Lots of humour to come, but I promise to keep it in character as much as I can! : )

Thanks for reading so far, please leave a review!

Enjoy!

Onwards…..

Greg tried to catch Mycroft's eye as he was pushed along in the throng of people making their way into the dining area.

'There will be no need for you to accompany Mr Holmes further' Miss Larkson turned to Greg with a sneer on her face and contempt in her eyes. The people parted around them, leaving the trio alone in the entrance hallway.

Greg gritted his teeth and looked at Mycroft, who looked between the pair, trying to maintain a professional air. His face remained impassive, but he sucked his tongue in his mouth in annoyance, glancing sideways at the smaller woman next to him.

'Did you not hear me?' asked Larkson in a sickly sweet voice, eyes widening, 'I said-'

'I'm not deaf, thank you very much' Greg told her, before shooting a look at Mycroft, turning on his heel and walking back out the way he came. He didn't look back.

Mycroft stood stock still, mouth slightly open, watching his partner's retreating back. He watched Miss Larkson turn back to him.

'How rude, I just don't know where these people come from, I really don't. Hardly cut from the same cloth as and me, is that not right Mr Holmes?'

Mycroft stared down at her. He held his tongue, though his eyes narrowed in anger. He felt a sense of injustice bubble within him and he knew if he said anything, he might regret it. He needed to talk to Gregory…

'If you'll excuse me…' he said tersely, sidestepping Miss Larkson and striding back down the hall.

'But dinner will be served in five minutes!' called Larkson, throwing her hands into the air.

'I'll be in time' promised Mycroft, closing the door between them. Looking in all directions, he sent a quizzical look at the porter on duty, who nodded towards the main entrance. Mycroft sighed and made his way outside.

He found Greg stood leaning against the wall just behind the steps, bowtie undone, cigarette in his hand.

Mycroft sighed loudly as he approached, watching Greg's head snap up, before taking another drag.

'I thought you were about to have dinner with Lady Muck' Greg blew smoke through his nose, looking up at the night sky.

'I thought you had given up smoking' Mycroft shot back haughtily, eyeing the offending object in his partner's hand.

'Spare me the sermon' Greg took another lungful of smoke. 'Go and enjoy your caviar.'

Mycroft sniffed. 'You look ridiculous when you're jealous.' He said plainly, reaching out for the cigarette.

'Thanks' Greg replied, letting out a chuckle as Mycroft took a drag. 'Hypocrite.' Mycroft handed back the cigarette.

'And I'm not jealous.' He told Mycroft, who coughed with laughter.

'Really? What was that all about then if not jealously?'

'You make me sound like a teenage girl.' Greg sighed sadly, 'I was just annoyed, that's all.'

'Right.' Mycroft grinned evilly, taking the cigarette back again and taking a long drag. They stood in silence for a while, sharing the smoke around them.

'I do need to get back' Mycroft told him apologetically.

'Go on then' Greg nudged him with his elbow, 'Go find Lady Muck and his Honourable Prime Minister. I'm sure they're missing you.'

Mycroft stole a few glances around them before leaning in to kiss Greg on the lips. 'You should come back in as well. It's expected.'

'Oh, well. If it's expected of me, I better do it' joked Greg, taking one last drag before throwing the cigarette onto the floor. 'But you still need to help me with my tie'

Mycroft smiled, leaning forwards to do Gregory's tie back up.

-x-

'I was beginning to worry where you had got to.' Miss Larkson pointedly ignored Greg as the pair walked into the dining area.

'Not far, I assure you.' Mycroft told her, motioning Greg to sit with another small group of PA's. Greg went where he was bid, giving a curt nod to Larkson as he passed. Miss Larkson sniffed, put her head in the air and walked over to Mycroft, taking his arm and leading him to the main table.

Greg watched them go, a sour look on his face. He sat himself down next to a younger man than him, dressed up like a penguin in a black tuxedo and white bow tie. He looked down at his own black tie; maybe there was a meaning to the different colours of tie…some sort of hierarchy?

'Evening' the young man greeted him with a smile.

'Hello' Greg replied, pouring himself a drink of water from the jug in front of him. 'How're you?'

He watched the man shoot a worried look over his shoulder.

'Oh. We're not supposed to talk are we?'

'It is frowned upon. We are seen, not heard.'

Greg snorted, almost choking on his water. He hadn't heard something more ridiculous for a long time.

'What are we, slaves?' he asked incredulously.

'In a manner of speaking.'

'My name's Greg' Greg leaned in, resting his elbows on the table.

The man smiled softly. 'I'm Toby'

'Hello, Toby.'

'Hello, Greg' Toby turned away, taking a sip of his own water.

Greg sat back in his chair. He had found an ally. He looked back over at the table, where Mycroft was in deep conversation with the Prime Minister. Silence descended.

'Which one is yours?' Greg asked Toby, who shot him a confused look before grinning.

'The one on the left.' He motioned towards a posh looking man sitting a few seats away from Mycroft.

'Huh' Greg nodded. 'God, I'm starving.' He hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning.

'Don't expect food,' Toby told him, a sad smile on his face. 'They spare all the expenses'

'Well' Greg craned his neck to see where the waiters were coming from. Then he had an idea. He turned back to Toby.

'Fancy a trip to the kitchen?'

Thank you for reading, I will update soon!

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