Thanks to Riverdancer17 for beta-work and Brit-picking:)

"Mr. Holmes, always such a pleasure to see you." Greg cooed, hoping he wasn't coming across as sleazy. That would have quite the opposite effect from what he desired.

Mycroft's face contorted into a confused frown. "You are the one who came to me."

"Yeah," the Prime Minister chuckled. "Never knew you had an office here at Downing St. Came as a surprise to me actually."

Mycroft didn't comment on it but Greg was sure he caught a hint of a smile as the other man turned away. "Always so nondescript." He laughed lightly and Mycroft sent him a playful glare.

"May I enquire after the purpose for your visit?"

"Oh well…" The Prime Minister was so confident, standing just behind the door to this small office, sure that this was what he wanted to do. Sure that he wouldn't be rejected. Now though…his confidence wavered. His words stumbled over each other as he tried to express himself. "You remember the gala at the end of the month…"

"The one at the French embassy? Of course I do."

"Good." Greg nodded; the confirmation was absolutely unnecessary but it gave him a pause before his next words. "I was wondering…if you'd agree to accompany me…?"

Mycroft seemed stunned for a moment; he stood frozen and just stared back at the Prime Minister. After a second he was back to aloof detachment. "I'm sorry but I will have to refuse."

Greg made sure not to let his disappointment show. "Mycroft," he stepped toward the other man. Their eyes locked and the Prime Minister did not let him avert his eyes. "Please, be my date?"

Mycroft was silent, contemplative. He bit his lip, grey eyes soft with regret, and slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry." This time it was more sincere.

"Why not?"

"As your adviser," it was the first time Mycroft had used that word in reference to himself and it sounded wrong coming from his lips. "I'd suggest you take some lovely lady as your date."

"Can't." Greg rejected the idea immediately. He pointed at himself and said with a smile. "I'm the Gay Prime Minister, remember?"

"My intelligence reported that you are bisexual." Mycroft frowned but it lacked his usual sternness.

"True. But those guys on my campaign persuaded me that people won't trust me if they knew. 'How can you decide on a police course if you can't decide on your sexuality?'" Greg quoted with a cringe.

"That's ridiculous."

"Good to know that you agree with me. Now if you'd only agree to be my date…" That was not subtle. Not subtle at all. Such things didn't work well with a man like Mycroft Holmes.

Mycroft looked away again, sheepish. Greg had never seen him this way; the Prime Minister was torn between appreciating the sigh, feeling honored to be allowed to witness it and fighting off the disappointment slowly filling his gut like cold lead. He was determined not to let the confident smile drop.

"I don't want to refuse you for the third time." Mycroft sounded sad.

"Then don't." Some desperation seeped into the Prime Minister's voice. This was such a small thing but he wanted it with fierce passion.

Mycroft shook his head without uttering a word. That's when Greg realized that there was no use in pressuring him anymore. He took a metaphorical step back in their conversation while literally stepping up to the other man so that they stood chest to chest. He looked up into Mycroft's face, eyes roaming over sharp features. "Fine." He relented but his voice was the opposite from defeated. "Then promise me a dance?"

"Dance?"

"Yes. One dance. I'm not asking for more." Greg repeated with conviction. "One dance." He was not going to back off on that.

"When did we start trading?" Mycroft asked.

"One dance."

"I don't remember ever saying there was something I wanted so that you would be acting like that."

"One dance." Greg simply repeated.

"What makes you think there is a chance I'll agree?"

"Because you want it."

There was a pause.

"Just one dance is all I ask." The Prime Minister said softly.

Mycroft was looking at him, contemplatively. Greg could see the moment his resolve crumbled.

"One dance." This time it was Mycroft repeating the words in a soft voice.

"One dance." Greg nodded. It was a small victory but it made him happy.