Greg blushed red under the penetrating gaze of Aloysius Holmes as he took his seat at the breakfast table. The table was loaded with breakfast. It looked like Mrs Hudson had been busy. At the opposite end of the table to Aloysius, Sherlock and John were busy explaining the merits of various sugary breakfast cereals to a stocky, rather handsome man wearing a silk dressing gown with hummingbirds on it. The man, who Greg assumed was The Earl of Gresham, was making short work of a plate of bacon and eggs as he listened.

"Gregory. Good morning! I trust you had a good night's sleep?" Uncle Aloysius twinkled and bit into a large piece of toast smothered in marmalade.

"Yes thank you." Greg lied. There had been very little sleeping going on, which Aloysius knew full well.

"Allow me to present Mycroft and Sherlock's Uncle Teddy." He indicated the man in the dressing gown who flashed Greg a dazzling smile and held out his hand. Greg shook it, somewhat surprised that the hand was large and rough, rather like his Dad's. Not the delicate paw of an aristocrat at all.

"Pleased to meet you My Lord."

"Please, call me Teddy." His voice had the faintest trace of an accent and now he was looking directly at him, Greg could see his eyes were the most alarming electric blue. It was no wonder he'd been voted most eligible whatever it was. The girls must have been throwing themselves at him.

"So what have you done with my darling eldest nephew Gregory?" Greg blushed an even deeper shade of crimson.

"He's still in the shower Sir." Greg slid into the seat to the left of Aloysius Holmes.

"Mycroft takes forever in the bathroom." Sherlock piped up. "He's worse than Cousin Felicity." This made John Watson giggle.

"Unlike you, you disgustingly unwashed little package!" Mycroft appeared in the doorway. Greg's heart skipped several beats. Mycroft was wearing Greg's Ramones T-shirt and a pair of black fitted jeans. The bad boy effect was ruined a moment later as he kissed both of his Uncles on the cheek before taking his place at the table. Uncle Aloysius looked delighted at his Nephew's change of wardrobe.

"So boys what would you like to do today?"

"Can we go to the woods?" Sherlock bounced in his seat. "Please? Only John's never seen a deer before, well not really. And there's rabbits and pheasants and we might find a skeleton!"

"What a real skeleton?" John Watson had begun bouncing a little as the promise of adventure was laid before him.

"Please Uncle Teddy?" Sherlock pleaded with huge green eyes.

"Only if you finish your cereal and eat some toast." Uncle Teddy made it clear by his tone that further negotiation was not an option. Greg wondered if he worked for the diplomatic service.

"What about you two? It seems a shame to spend all day inside. Perhaps Gregory would like to see the village? And then we can all meet back here at say two o'clock for a late luncheon?" Greg was trying hard to comprehend eating for the rest of the day after the breakfast that was currently before him, but it seemed that Uncle Aloysius had no such fears. Neither, it seemed, did Mycroft as he reached for the Sugar Puffs.

The village was predictably pretty. Like a postcard, with a church and a village green and rows of neat stone cottages and a duck pond. There was a pub called The Crooked House and a shop which seemed to sell every type of sweets known to humanity. Mycroft bought Greg a quarter of aniseed twists and himself a quarter of treacle toffee. Greg was a little disappointed that Mycroft was now wrapped up against the chilly autumn air in a thick Arran sweater and waxed jacket. He'd quite liked the view all through breakfast of Mycroft in that tight t-shirt.

The Tithe Barn was a neat brick built building just on the outskirts of the village. The brickwork looked as though it had been recently re-pointed and the woodwork was freshly painted. Mycroft produced a large key from his inside pocket.

"My family own a lot of the property in the village. We go back to the doomsday book."

"Cool!" Greg peered in though the dark doorway whilst Mycroft busied himself lighting candles. As the gentle flickering illuminated the interior Greg suddenly became aware he was not standing in some dusty old barn, but in a neatly decorated room. Taking up most of the centre of the room was a large bed. In one corner Mycroft was busy lighting a wood-burning stove and setting a kettle to boil on the top. Greg shut the door behind him, closing out the village and the cool air.

"What is this place?"

"It used to be the tithe barn. Where one tenth of the produce of the village was given to the church. One in ten you see. Uncle Ali bought it as a ruin and had it restored. He thought there was something rather ironic about using it for him and Teddy's romantic interludes when they were younger."

"You really like your uncle don't you?"

"Yes. He is the most wonderful man. Imagine you spent your whole life doing whatever you liked with no obligations to anything or anyone. You were entirely free to choose whatever you did. And then one morning you woke up to find Social Services on the doorstep with two small boys who were suddenly your responsibility. He could have easily said no. But he didn't. Neither did Teddy. They didn't hesitate. Can you imagine what would have happened to us if we had gone into care? Or a foster home? Uncle Ali saved us."

"You said him and Teddy had been going out since school?"

"Yes. Fifty years. They met at prep school when they were eleven. They've been best friends ever since. I think they finally realised they loved one another when they were about sixteen. Of course back then it was illegal. And it didn't help that Teddy was supposed to marry some heiress and continue the family line. With Uncle Ali it wasn't so much of a problem, he was the youngest son, my grandfather had already married so no one really cared whether Ali got married or not."

"So what did Teddy do?"

"Turned round and told his father the truth. Apparently the Eighth Earl already knew. He'd been waiting for Teddy to pluck up the courage to tell him. He was more upset that Teddy had been frightened of him than the fact he was gay. I believe the Eighth Earl had a younger brother who was gay, he had an affair with Noel Coward during the war."

"Wow! What happened to him?"

"He was killed storming a machine gun post at Normandy. That's him." Mycroft pointed to a picture on the wall. It was a fairly standard picture of a college rowing team. Mycroft had indicated a stocky, handsome young man with a broad smile. He looked very much like Uncle Teddy. "Oh that's Uncle Ali and Uncle Teddy when they were at Cambridge." Aloysius Holmes was seated, his hair was dark and whilst he was by no stretch of the imagination slim, he was about half the size he was now. Stood next to him, with broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist a young Teddy Frobisher smiled out of the frame.

"We should get a picture done." Greg looked at the other framed photographs on the walls. Fifty years of holidays and weddings and family occasions recorded forever.

"Really? Whatever for?"

"So we can look back at them in fifty years time." Greg slipped his hand in to Mycroft's and squeezed. "And remember when and how we came to love one another?" Greg closed his eyes. That might have been going too far.

"Yes. I'd like that." Mycroft smiled down at Greg, and then with one fluid movement he picked him up and dumped him on the bed.