A/N: Wow, I love the feedback I got for the last chapter. I have to thank all my lovely reviewers: RBnC, darkrose45, AzrielLolita, Miss R. Hood, Sendai, KL08, onib, and SeverusDmitri18. Hearing your feedback is what keeps writing.
I have to warn you all, this chapter is equally fluffy as the last one, but with a twist. It's with our favorite Detective Inspector and Politician.
Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Sherlock, those are the creations of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and most importantly Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. It's their sandbox and I'm just playing in it.
xXx
It had been a week since Mycroft had left for Sudan. Even though he knew he'd have to fend off questions from Greg, he didn't want to wait any longer before seeing the DI.
After stopping in at the office to finish reports on the situation in Sudan and giving A the next few days off, Mycroft was walking into New Scotland Yard.
He had checked the cameras in the Yard before heading over, and knew Greg was in his office. He stepped off the elevator and walked casually to Greg's office.
Sergeant Donovan had just stepped out of Greg's office when Mycroft got to the door. Her eyes went wide at his appearance and opened her mouth to speak. Mycroft put a finger to his lips.
"Shhh. I want to surprise him" he whispered. She nodded and went to her desk, looking back once, concern flashing across her face.
Mycroft silently slipped into Greg's office, closing the door behind him. Greg was bent over some paperwork and hadn't heard Mycroft enter. He must've had a lot of paperwork to do because Mycroft could hear The Clash softly filtering through the computer speakers.
Mycroft stood there a few moments watching Greg, amused by the determined look on his face as he read a report, his head bobbing along with the music.
"Well aren't you the picture of professionalism" Mycroft said teasingly, finally letting his presence be known.
Greg whipped his head up at the sound of Mycroft's voice, the smile he had fell when he took in the politician's appearance.
Before him stood Mycroft his left arm in a sling under his suit jacket; he was leaning on his umbrella but stretching his right side like he had a couple of bruised ribs. What worried Greg the most was the shallow cuts on Mycroft's face and bruise on his left cheek.
Greg jumped up from his desk and nearly ran over to Mycroft. He lightly cupped Mycroft's face with both hands.
"My what happened" Greg asked, the worry evident in his eyes and voice.
"Car accident on the way to the airport" Mycroft said. Greg was a little suspicious because the bruise on his cheek looked more like one you would get from a right hook than a car accident.
His suspicions must have shown because Mycroft pulled him into a gentle hug with his good arm.
"I'm alright, I swear" Mycroft said reassuringly into his ear before kissing Greg on the cheek. Greg looped his arms around Mycroft's neck and leaned back to look at him.
"It scared me a bit, last time we talked you didn't say anything about a car accident."
"I didn't want to worry you."
"I know, but please tell me if you get injured the next time you're out of the country."
Mycroft smiled, he wasn't used to having someone worry about him.
"I will make sure to tell you."
"Good." Greg leaned in and kissed Mycroft softly. Mycroft eagerly returned the kiss. He had missed Greg while he'd been gone. Mycroft's hand slid down Greg's back and squeezed his ass.
Greg gasped and Mycroft took the opportunity to slip his tongue into the man's mouth. Greg moaned softly and pressed their bodies together. Mycroft grunted and cringed a bit as pain shot through his side.
Greg broke the kiss.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mea-"
"It's ok. I know you didn't do it on purpose" Mycroft interrupted.
"I know but I'm still sorry."
"It's quite alright Gregory dear. Now, I'm famished, would you be so kind as to join me for dinner" Mycroft asked, his voice taking on a teasingly affectionate tone.
"I would be delighted Mycroft darling" Greg bantered back. He walked back to his desk and turned his computer off. He grabbed his blazer off the back of his chair and his wallet out of the top drawer. Greg slid his wallet into his pocket and shrugged into his jacket. He walked back around the desk and smiled when Mycroft offered his right arm. He looped his arm through Mycroft's and opened the door. As they left his office, Greg grabbed the umbrella out of Mycroft's hand to keep it from dangling between them awkwardly.
"I'm leaving for the night" Greg told Donovan as they passed by her desk.
"Alright, have a good night" she called back.
They rode the elevator down and exited the building to find one of Mycroft's black cars waiting for them. Greg opened the back door for Mycroft and slid in after the politician. During the ride, Greg kept glancing at Mycroft's left arm.
Mycroft sighed before speaking. "It's a hairline fracture on my radius. I also have two bruised ribs on my right side."
Greg smiled sheepishly. Mycroft shook his head with a smile. He leaned over and kissed Greg. Greg returned the kiss, he had really missed Mycroft in the week the redhead was gone.
They broke apart when the car stopped moving. Both men climbed out and walked into the restaurant. The host stood at attention and immediately walked over to them when he caught sight of Mycroft.
"Ah, Mister Holmes good to see you again," He shook Mycroft's good hand and motioned his other arm to the dining area. "Your table is ready. If you and your companion would follow me."
Greg smirked as he followed Mycroft and the host to the table. He watched as waiters throughout the dining room adjusted their posture and a few quickly scurried away from setting up a secluded table. They were seated at the table and menus placed in front of them.
Greg perused the menu, looking over the top at Mycroft, the smirk still on his face.
"Yes Gregory" Mycroft asked without looking up.
Greg was about to answer when a waiter came up to the table with a bottle of wine and continued to stand there waiting to take their orders. Mycroft shot the waiter a slightly annoyed look, the young man's reaction causing Greg to stifle a chuckle.
As soon as the waiter left, Mycroft looked over to Greg. "What is it that you find so amusing Gregory?"
Greg smiled and took a sip of wine. "The terror your mere presence causes in the wait staff."
"Excuse me?"
"You don't notice it because you're always treated with the utmost respect. The minute you walked into the restaurant the whole staff stood at attention and started moving with purpose. I wouldn't be surprised if there are a few people hyperventilating into paper bags in the kitchen."
"Interesting" Mycroft said thoughtfully.
Greg chuckled and leaned across the table, giving Mycroft a quick peck on the lips.
"I find it delightfully entertaining."
"Well at least I'm not dull."
Greg chuckled as he sat back down. Mycroft leaned back in his seat with his wine glass, studying Greg as he sipped the yellow-gold liquid. He reached out with one of his legs and stroked Greg's leg with his foot.
Mycroft smiled coyly when Greg arched an eyebrow at him. With a slight nod Greg trapped Mycroft's foot between his knees. As the politician lightly pulled his leg to try and free it, Greg drank some of his own wine, a smug smile on his face.
Mycroft narrowed his eyes at Greg when he couldn't free his foot.
"It's what you get" Greg said, his smile widening.
Mycroft tried wiggling his foot back and forth, but Greg's grip was iron tight. Mycroft took to pouting when he couldn't get his foot free. The puckering of the redhead's lower lip threw Greg into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
Greg only stopped when their food arrived, releasing Mycroft's foot as his plate was set in front of him.
Greg had started eating, and happened to look over at Mycroft to see him scowling at his plate. A soft smile took place on Greg's face as he inched his seat and food closer to Mycroft. He pulled the taller man's plate in front him and cut off a bite sized piece of chicken, swiping it through sauce.
Mycroft watched him with a confused look. Suddenly Greg presented the bite of food in front of Mycroft's mouth and the redhead's confused looked turned into a smile as he ate the food off of the fork.
Greg continued to feed Mycroft, stopping every now and then to eat his own food and receive soft kisses.
When they were done eating, Mycroft intertwined their fingers and kissed Greg. They were interrupted by their waiter clearing his throat. Greg chuckled when the man started to shake slightly at the dark look Mycroft shot him.
"Would either of you like dessert?"there was a tremble in his voice.
Mycroft looked at Greg, who shook his head.
"No" Mycroft said producing a credit card and handing it to the waiter.
"Very well."
Mycroft grabbed Greg's hand again, his thumb circling on the back of Greg's hand.
"The case you had before I left, you never told me if Sherlock solved it or not."
"Oh right, the man was a schizophrenic that killed when the voices told him people were looking at him the wrong way. Sherlock didn't figure it out until the man killed his therapist."
"Anything else interesting happen while I was gone."
"John and Sherlock are together."
Mycroft smiled, "Really?"
"Yes, they were quite cozy the few times I stopped by in the past week."
"Good, Sherlock was getting quite annoying."
"Oh Sherlock's still annoying, but John has quite the influence over him. He got Sherlock to apologize after he was his own brand of insulting."
"No" Mycroft said a bit unbelieving.
Greg nodded, "Mind you it was a very Sherlock apology, but an apology nonetheless."
At that moment the waiter returned with Mycroft's credit card and a receipt that needed his signature. Mycroft signed the paper and grabbed his card, standing up, pausing shortly for Greg to follow.
Greg got up and looped his arm through Mycroft's. They walked out of the restaurant together and stepped into one of Mycroft's black cars that was waiting for them outside.
"Sherlock apologized. I don't think he's done that since he was a child, except this last christmas."
Greg nodded his head smiling. Greg leaned over to Mycroft and kissed the taller man, resting his free hand on his knee. The kiss was soft and sweet everything Mycroft loved, and it was over too soon. Greg pulled away as the car stopped. Mycroft let out a whine that made Greg smile. Greg pressed another kiss to Mycroft's lips.
"You know you could always come inside with me" he said climbing out of the car.
Mycroft quickly followed, and they walked into Greg's flat. Once inside Mycroft moved to the couch, taking off his jacket and shoes, settling comfortably into the cushions. Greg followed the redhead's lead, turning the tv on as he sat. Once settled Greg pulled Mycroft into his arms gently, placing a kiss on his lover's cheek.
Mycroft shifted a bit against Greg's chest, settling into a position that was more comfortable for his broken arm and bruised ribs. He turned his head and captured Greg's lips with his own. They savoured the soft languid kisses until the need for air was too great.
Mycroft shifted down and rested his head against Greg's chest. They watched tv in a comfortable silence, exchanging brief kisses and commenting on whatever program they were watching.
It was nearing midnight, when Greg felt Mycroft's breathing slow down and become deeper. The politician had been yawning, fighting the pull of sleep for last half hour. He placed a kiss to the redhead's cheek.
"C'mon Mycroft, lets get to bed" Greg whispered in his ear patting the taller man on the leg.
"hmm no, I'm wake" Mycroft mumbled.
Greg smiled. "I know, but lets go to bed."
"No, I'm comfortable here" Mycroft mumbled, nuzzling his face into Greg's neck.
"My, c'mon you'll thank me in the morning" Greg said gently pushing Mycroft into an upright position.
Mycroft groaned, at the loss of heat but sat up and swung his legs off the couch. He sat there yawning. Greg got up and held his hand out to Mycroft and pulled him up.
When Greg let go of him, Mycroft swayed a little, causing the shorter man to quickly slip under Mycroft's good arm and hold him up by his waist.
"You're awake, huh?" Greg said teasingly.
"Shut it" Mycroft grunted, leaning against Greg and burying his face in the DI's neck.
Greg chuckled and walked to the bedroom, guiding the sleepy politician. He was rewarded with Mycroft placing sleepy kisses on his neck.
Once there Greg sat Mycroft on the bed. He slipped the sling off Mycroft's neck, then proceeded to strip the other man down to his undershirt and pants. Greg pulled back the covers and laid his sleepy lover down, placing the blanket up around his chin.
Mycroft shifted a bit under the covers, and quickly drifted asleep. Greg changed into a pair of pajama pants and an old Pink Floyd shirt, and climbed in the bed. Sensing extra warmth, Mycroft backed up against Greg, who wrapped his arm around the sleeping man's waist.
Closing his eyes and listening to Mycroft's deep even breaths, Greg soon drifted into a peaceful sleep.
xXx
Alright, you know the drill, I want to know what you thought; even if they're wild conspiracy theories about what happened to Mycroft in Sudan. Whoever guess' right, will get a special prize.
