A/N: I am terribly sorry for such a long wait; I hope there are readers who are still interested in this story.
Brit-picking: Riverdancer17.
"Mr. Holmes, what a lovely surprise!" Greg exclaimed as the door to his office opened to reveal a familiar figure.
"Prime Minister," Mycroft nodded in greeting as he crossed the office to occupy his usual chair.
"How many times will I have to ask you to call me Greg?" The Prime Minister laughed. "Should I order you?"
"I'd like to see you try," Mycroft scoffed haughtily but there was a small smile gracing his features. "Also I think I am allowed to do this since you refuse to call me by my own name."
"Mr. Holmes, your name is too special to use it so carelessly." Greg wasn't sure if the other man realized that the Prime Minister meant it in more sense than one. He never even knew if Mycroft's responses to his flirting had been absolutely unconscious or completely thought through.
"Well then I see that we are stuck, Prime Minister."
"I'm sure we'll find our way out of it." Greg shuffled the folders on his desk just to occupy his hands and, time for subtle flirting over, get back to business. "When are you leaving for Paris?"
"Tomorrow at noon." Mycroft replied readily. "I still have a meeting tonight, late in the evening."
"A meeting or a date?" Greg asked, a completely unnecessary question. There was no reason for him to be so curious about that subject, but for the simple want to know. His tone sounded teasing and he hoped Mycroft wouldn't recognize the note of barely formed jealousy hidden underneath.
"Negotiations."
"Oh well…" Gradually Greg had come to accept that Mycroft Holmes was a bigger force than any government official; he still asked too many questions, wanting to know everything about the man's business affairs, but Greg had come to terms with not being the most influential person in the country. He still got his chance to do something good for the people and most of the official decisions were still his to make…but when the situation proved to be too difficult or too much depended on his decision Mycroft Holmes appeared seemingly out of nowhere and came up with solutions so elegant that there was nothing else to do but to follow them.
The man was genius and Greg had accepted that. His interest in Mycroft's none-political affairs however was something he had been fighting tooth and nail since the day they met.
"Your flight is scheduled today." This wasn't a question but Greg nodded nonetheless. Another restless night – what a fun. He hoped he would have some nice company on that flight but as it turned out Mycroft had some other business to attend to. Just like always.
"Any further instructions?" He asked with dry humor that only got him a glare as an answer.
Mycroft squinted at him. "You should probably get some rest. Tomorrow will be difficult."
Greg smiled, preferring not to dwell on the nature of the other man's concern. He liked to imagine that Mycroft cared about him, not only about the outcome of the assembly. "Anything else I can help you with?" Mycroft would not come to him to simply remind of the evening's flight. Or just to chat – efficiency was always at the forefront of the man's mind. Greg respected him for it, but it would have been nice to get at least one visit just for the sake of them seeing each other. Or maybe Greg was just an old romantic and was imagining things where there was nothing to imagine in the first place. Still, Mycroft Holmes was a smart man, he must be aware of the Prime Minister's attraction to him – and he was not saying no; there had never been an outright rejection and it gave Greg that little fraction of hope.
"That green folder on your right," Mycroft broke into his thoughts with his reply. "I'll need it for my meeting."
Wordlessly Greg picked the mentioned folder and handed it over the table to the other man. Mycroft took it carefully, laying it down in his lap. There was no need for him to look inside, he was perfectly informed about the contents of it – probably even before the Prime Minister had heard about it.
"Thank you."
There was nothing else to say and so they stayed in silence, watching each other. Greg expecting any more requests, orders, advices, Mycroft…who knew what the enigmatic man was thinking about. Minutes passed and then Mycroft just stood up, a folder in one hand and the umbrella clutched in the other, and thanked Gregory for his assistance quietly.
Greg, confused by the silent staring mere moments before, hurried to get to his feet. "Let me walk you to your car."
Mycroft lifted a questioning eyebrow but did not protest as Greg held the door open for him and followed him down the staircase. They walked in silence, Mycroft ahead, but Greg could not shake off the feeling that something had changed, something had shifted in their relationship but so subtly that he could not grasp it, try as he might. So he followed the other man, pondering in silence, and together they exited Downing Street.
Greg went ahead to the black car waiting at the front, waving away the bodyguards so that they could prolong their little moment of privacy. The Prime Minister opened the car door for his one the most precious adviser. He could see Mycroft's surprise in the slight tilt of his head and lifting of his eyebrows but only grinned in response. The expression disappeared quickly, only to reappear again the moment Greg muttered "Have a good flight, Mycroft." Just before he slammed the car door closed after the other man.
Greg grinned to himself, standing at the curb and watching the black car drive away a flustered Mycroft Holmes.