Fish
"Fish are such boring creatures." Mycroft comments, staring at the goldfish in the little bowl.
"Well, shall we get a dog instead? Because with two young children I'm sure a dog would be easy to look after." Greg replies sarcastically, grinning at his partner.
"At least you can interact with a dog. Look at them, just swimming about in a bowl. Who would want such boring creatures?" Mycroft asks in a distaste full voice that matches his little brother's.
"Apparently, fish are very therapeutic." Greg smiles, standing next to his partner and watching the fish with him.
"Yes, in a psychologist's office." Mycroft replies, turning away from the fish.
"Look at it this way, if one of them dies we can go to the pet shop and buy another one. The kids will never know." Greg tries reasoning, following his partner with his eyes.
"We will not lie to our children, Gregory." Mycroft snaps, looking back at his partner.
"It's just a little lie, Myc. Just so they don't get upset over losing a pet." Greg replies softly.
"If we lie to our children, we're not good parents."
"Myc, every parent tells little lies to their children. My mum used to say I was an amazing dancer, and we both know that isn't true." Greg replies, grinning. "Besides I'm not telling you to lie to them about loving them, I'm just saying that a few white lies can't hurt them. After all, you and Sherlock were told that caring is not an advantage. Have you discovered that was a lie yet."
Mycroft stares silently across the room, letting the words sink in.
"... Fine. But if it comes back to bite you, don't blame me."
"I tell you what, why don't we get a dog. I mean, you're right, dogs are more fun. And you said you'd always wanted a dog."
"I thought you said we couldn't manage." Mycroft replies, quirking an eyebrow and smiling smugly.
"We thought we couldn't manage with two kids, but we are, aren't we?" Greg asks softly, now suddenly unsure.
"Yes, we're managing fine." Mycroft smiles gently, walking back over to his partner. "In fact, you're handling the children better than I am."
"You're brilliant with them, they adore you, Myc. You're an amazing dad. And … I'm so proud of you. You've come so far." Greg smiles reassuringly at his partner, taking his hand and stroking his knuckles.
"I adore them too, Gregory. I just … I don't want them to resent me when they're older."
"They could never do that, Mikey. You're the perfect dad. You give them everything they need and, youwill never be your father. Okay?" Greg smiles, kissing his partner softly.
Mycroft smiles back, still not able to understand how Greg can know the fears that go unsaid in Mycroft's mind. All he'd ever said about his father was that he was a depressed alcoholic. Obviously Greg had made the connection based on John's father; the connection that both sets of children were abused by their fathers due to alcohol abuse.
"You always know what to say, my dear. And you always know what's going on in my head." Mycroft replies softly, wrapping his arms around Greg.
"Not always. Just certain things. Alcohol abuse usually leads to child abuse of some kind. I should know." Greg replies sadly, resting his head on Mycroft's shoulder.
The younger man is glad that his partner doesn't mention any specific abuse, knowing it will set Mycroft off.
"Being an officer of the law must be a painful job, my dear Gregory, especially now that we have children of our own." Mycroft whispers in an understanding manner.
"We can't keep them safe forever, one day they'll move out and have their own lives. But, for now, I'm just relieved that we do all we can." Greg whispers into Mycroft's neck, gripping his partner tightly.
"You're right, we should get a dog. It would act as extra protection for the children."
"Myc, this place is already like Fort Knox, it couldn't get any safer." Greg looks up and allows himself to smile.
"Technology can be infiltrated, Gregory. An animal can't."
"Dogs like meat, all someone has to do is wave a piece of beef at it and it will go to anyone." Greg grins at his partner.
"Be quiet, Gregory. We're getting a dog. And we are not replacing the fish when they die." Mycroft replies sternly, indicating the end of the discussion.
Greg chuckles into his partner's chest; both gazing out the living room window, "I love you, ya daft sod."
"I love you too, my dear." Mycroft smiles, kissing his partner's forehead.
Greg sighs happily in response, watching the sun set behind the hills.