Cally's Sherlock drabble thread #1 442/442

[AngelEyes]

I love your contrasting of the brothers. Mycroft so careful and deliberate about everything. Sherlock flouncing and throwing himself around.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the properness of his brother.

This. Love!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

How did I miss these?! How?!

You write such lovely fics. I love seeing the softer side of Mycroft. He really does love his brother and puts up with so much.

And Mycroft so quickly giving in to Gregory and going to bed? I worry...he must already have pneumonia.

Hope you are having better days!

[cally]

I love your contrasting of the brothers. Mycroft so careful and deliberate about everything. Sherlock flouncing and throwing himself around.

That was pretty much the only thing that worked in that drabble!

And Mycroft so quickly giving in to Gregory and going to bed? I worry...he must already have pneumonia.

No, I wouldn't do that to him. (Or would I?) More than 24 hours with no sleep + illness makes Mycroft pliable IMHO.

I wasn't going to write this evening, but my nose is so itchy it's driving me crazy so I'm torturing Mycroft because I can.

203. itch

Mycroft rubbed his nose between his thumb and forefinger trying to alleviate the incipient itch plaguing his nostrils. He gave an irritated sniffle and rose from his chair. He had hoped that this spring would be different, as he thought every spring. It made him feel as if he was a constant disappointment to himself to not be able to overcome the seasonal malady.

Leaving his home office, he went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. He rubbed at his nose with his index finger in annoyance. He willed himself not to give into the building tickle as he clicked on the kettle and filled the teapot with leaves. The fragrant scent of bergamot filled his sinuses and added to the already present irritation. Mycroft had no choice but to quickly remove his handkerchief from his pocket and bring it up to cover his rapidly twitching nostrils as he surrendered to the paroxysms.

TNSGH’SHHHH! Heh’NNNG’SHHHHH! Huh’Hng’ISSH! AhhhhTISHOOO!

The last sneeze in the quartet nearly bent him double and left him breathless and dizzy. He grabbed on to the counter to steady himself, the other hand still clutching his handkerchief. The tickle was still present and he was certain that he would need it again shortly.

He nearly startled at the voice that came from behind him.

“God bless you, love,” Gregory said, standing in the doorway.

Mycroft blushed slightly. “Thank you. My apologies, Gregory. I did not hear you come in.” He dabbed at his nostrils with the cloth and then quickly cupped it and his hands around his nose as he gasped his way into another flurry of sneezes.

Heh……huh……ING’SHHHHH! Heh’DNGISH! ING’MMFPTIGHshhhh! Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH!

“God bless you again,” Gregory remarked as he made his way over to Mycroft.

Mycroft looked down at the floor, nose still buried within the depths of his handkerchief. “Thank you,” he murmured softly. “Please do excuse me,” he added unnecessarily.

Gregory frowned. He placed a warm finger under Mycroft’s chin and lifted his head so he could get a good look at his partner. Mycroft’s eyes were a deep shade of blue, emphasised by the unshed allergic tears. “Let me see,” Gregory whispered. He gently lowered Mycroft’s hands from his nose and saw that it was a delicate shade of pink, like the inside of a pale rose.

“Oh love,” Gregory said softly. He placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of Mycroft’s long nose, hoping that it was high up enough to keep from adding to the apparent tenderness.

Mycroft shuddered beneath the touch and quickly turned his head, stifling the expulsions as best as he could.

Mmmmpfx! Huh’Hng’ISSH!

“God bless you! Sorry, that was all me,” Gregory said worriedly.

Mycroft nodded his thanks as he buried his nose back into his handkerchief and gave a gentle blow. He allowed Gregory to lead him over to the table so he could sit down, and then watched as his lover finished the tea making for him.

Gregory brought over two cups a few moments later, and sitting down next to Mycroft, reached out and squeezed his hand. Gregory rubbed his thumb across the top of Mycroft’s hand soothingly, causing Mycroft to smile and finally relax.

“Better now?” Gregory asked, taking a sip of tea.

“A little,” Mycroft said quietly. He thoughtfully watched the steam rise from his teacup. He hated how his body betrayed him every spring, but he was eternally grateful he had someone to care for him despite it.

[AngelEyes]

It made him feel as if he was a constant disappointment to himself to not be able to overcome the seasonal malady.

Oh, Sadness! But of course he would feel that way, silly man.

He hated how his body betrayed him every spring, but he was eternally grateful he had someone to care for him despite it.

Awww. So much Greg loves!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Poor itchy Mycroft! What do you think? Does he put off taking meds as long as possible or does he take everything available to control his symptoms? I can't decide. Whatever, Greg loves him.

BTW, I believe you would totally give Mycroft pneumonia if only to make him stay home and accept TLC from Greg.

[cally]

Oh, Sadness! But of course he would feel that way, silly man.

He just finds it a bit of a drain, really.

Poor itchy Mycroft! What do you think? Does he put off taking meds as long as possible or does he take everything available to control his symptoms? I can't decide. Whatever, Greg loves him.

I've partially answered this in the next drabble. But really, my personal head canon is that Mycroft gets a reprieve in winter and then once spring arrives spends a lot of time hoping that this will be the year where he no longer is suffering (or even suffering on the level he is used to) therefore he puts off taking anything until he's absolutely sure. And then it takes him some time for them to work, or to get in the proper regimen, or adjust the dosage. Once he has started, he tends to do anything in his power to alleviate his symptoms especially at work/meetings/etc. At home he is a bit more defeatist and especially early on, seems to feel more miserable than he would normally let on.

204. cedar

When Gregory came home the following evening, the townhouse was eerily dark and still. He knew Mycroft was home; his umbrella was in the stand by the front door. He checked the kitchen and Mycroft’s study and found them both empty. Frowning worriedly, he took the stairs two at a time to their bedroom.

Gregory found Mycroft asleep on top of the duvet. The younger man was curled on his side, a sleep mask over his eyes. He had removed his suit jacket and waistcoat; his sleeves rolled up displaying pale, freckled forearms. Mycroft had once told him he took after his maternal grandmother in that respect. He was very careful not to add to them now (as much as possible of course), as he didn’t want to end up one giant freckle like she had.

The detective inspector smiled fondly and a bit sadly at the figure his sleeping lover made. The poor dear must be utterly worn out if he had come home to sleep and not continue to work.

The lamp was on its lowest setting allowing a dull light to illuminate the room. It was then Gregory noticed the discarded tissues on the bedside table along with empty foil packets of painkillers and Sudafed.

He was unsure how long he had been standing there until Mycroft shuddered and sneezed, a damp, squelching sound that had Gregory fretting even more.

Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH!

“God bless you, love,” Gregory said softly.

Mycroft sat up, pushing off the sleep mask as he did so, scrabbling for the box of tissues on the bedside table. He could feel his nostrils flaring from the prickling irritation within. Snatching a fair few, he buried his nose within them, gasping out ticklish breaths.

Hngxtissshh! NG’SHHHHH! TISSSSHH! ING’MMFPTIGHshhhh! Heh’TISSSSHH! Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH!

Gregory frowned at the sound of the thick and heady sneezes from his partner. He sounded absolutely miserable. Sitting down on the bed, he put an arm around Mycroft. “God bless you again,” he exclaimed, placing a kiss on his temple.

Mycroft took a moment to tend to his nose. “Thank you, Gregory. My apologies,” he said, rubbing at his irritated eyes. Gregory could see in the faint light that they were red; Mycroft must have been rubbing at them all day.

“You’re welcome. And you know, no apologies are necessary.” Gregory paused a moment, thoughtful. “Are you feeling that poorly?”

Mycroft didn’t answer right away. Sniffling back a drop of moisture, he rubbed at his irritated, pink-tinged nostrils with the ball of damp tissues he was still holding. Gregory reached over and plucked a few from the box, and swapped them out for Mycroft.

“Thank you,” Mycroft murmured, slightly embarrassed, but not feeling up to having any disagreements with his partner. He dabbed at his nose again, and sighing, settled into Gregory’s warm, comforting arms. “I am feeling rather wretched,” he finally said, speaking into the softly lit room. “I should have begun the antihistamines sooner than I did,” he added.

Gregory rubbed Mycroft’s neck, trying to ease the muscle tension there. Mycroft gave a soft moan and relaxed into the touch. Gregory smiled as he watched his lover start to relax.

Mycroft closed his eyes and relished the touch of Gregory’s strong hands on his neck and shoulders. He surrendered to the sensation, letting the stress of the day melt away. He reached up and rubbed at his right eye in annoyance as he felt the ticklish irritation return to his beleaguered nostrils. With a breathy inhale he gave into the paroxysms, burying his nose into the tissues once again.

Hng’ISSH! Hng’mmpftish! MmmmINGHtighsh! TNSGH’SHHHH!

“God bless you, love,” Gregory said, rubbing his shoulders gently.

“Thank you, my dearest heart. Please do excuse me,” Mycroft said stuffily.

Gregory dutifully handed over another handful of tissues. Mycroft smiled his thanks before blowing his nose as gently as possible, not wanting to trigger another fit of sneezes. When he was done, he sighed, resigned to his allergic fate.

Gregory pressed a kiss into the back of Mycroft’s head. He could smell the soft scent of his shampoo mixed with the muted scent of bergamot and cedar that was distinctly Mycroft.

He hated to see him suffer like this and wished that there was something more that he could do. They sat there like that, quietly, until Gregory’s stomach growled.

They both laughed. “Sorry,” Gregory said, unnecessarily.

“Nonsense, Gregory. I am rather hungry myself,” Mycroft chided, turning to look at his partner.

Gregory kissed him on the cheek. “Dinner?”

“Dinner,” Mycroft replied with a faint sniff.

[Skyler]

Aww, such cuteness

[AngelEyes]

The detective inspector smiled fondly and a bit sadly at the figure his sleeping lover made. The poor dear must be utterly worn out if he had come home to sleep and not continue to work.

Awwww. So sweet.

Gregory rubbed Mycroft’s neck, trying to ease the muscle tension there. Mycroft gave a soft moan and relaxed into the touch. Gregory smiled as he watched his lover start to relax.

Mycroft closed his eyes and relished the touch of Gregory’s strong hands on his neck and shoulders. He surrendered to the sensation, letting the stress of the day melt away.

Even more Awww!

Gregory pressed a kiss into the back of Mycroft’s head. He could smell the soft scent of his shampoo mixed with the muted scent of bergamot and cedar that was distinctly Mycroft.

Is it weird that I wish I could smell Mycroft? Yum.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Thank you for the insight into your head cannon. I like knowing what people think.

Oh, forearms again! Yikes! I really like forearms, always have.

Poor Mycroft, sneezes himself awake. That is too adorable.

BTW, from the last drabble, I love it when Greg kisses Mycroft's nose and makes him sneeze. In my head Greg is a tease!

[cally]

Aww, such cuteness

Awww thanks!

Is it weird that I wish I could smell Mycroft? Yum.

There's an internet theory about what we think he smells like. It's called Floris Elite and it smells AMAZING.

BTW, from the last drabble, I love it when Greg kisses Mycroft's nose and makes him sneeze. In my head Greg is a tease!

Gregory is a terrible tease and he sometimes cannot help himself in the slightest!

I did (some) work so I got to write today.

205. inaudible sigh

A few hours later and the pair were in bed. Gregory was reading, one hand holding his book, the other hand rubbing Mycroft’s temple. The younger man was still suffering from a sinus headache and was resting; his eyes shut and covered by a sleep mask and ice pack. The room was cool, quiet, and still; the only sounds were Gregory’s page turning and Mycroft’s frequent, soft sniffles.

After the last sniffle, Gregory looked up from his novel and gave Mycroft (despite the fact he could not see) a sad smile. He hated to see how much his lover was suffering and would do anything to take away the misery he was currently undergoing. With an inaudible sigh, he returned to reading.

Mycroft was close to sleep, lulled there by the touch of Gregory’s warm fingers on his forehead and the silence of the room. He was thoroughly worn out; sleeping had become difficult due to the congestion compressing his sinuses not to mention the relentless hayfever.

On the verge of sleep, Mycroft didn’t recognise the reappearance of the irritating tickle until he was just about to sneeze. He gasped a quick, hitching breath, as he jerked upright from the force; the eye mask and ice pack falling into his lap with a soft thud. He was unable to bring his wrist up in time to cover his nose, and let out a rather rare, uncovered sneeze.

TNSGH’ish!

Mycroft quickly pulled a tissue out of pocket to cover his twitching nostrils in an attempt to keep any more expulsions at bay. “My ahhhh-apologies, Gregory,” he said through hitching breaths. He was terribly afraid he had managed to sneeze on his partner and was absolutely mortified.

Gregory put his book to the side. “God bless you,” he exclaimed as he watched Mycroft’s face contort as he tried to hold back from sneezing. “Oh, love. Just let go,” he added softly.

From behind fluttering lashes, Mycroft glared at him. Seconds later, he was panting into a set of frenzied sneezes.

INGtish! HDSCHHhhhh! HehNGTisssh! Heh-heptisshhh! Heh’IMPFTIGHisshhh! AhhhhTISH!

The thin tissue Mycroft was holding was no match for these heady sneezes. It was soaked through almost immediately and he was grateful for the handkerchief that Gregory was pressing into his other hand. He quickly tucked the remains of the tissue into his dressing gown pocket and then proceeded to blow his nose with the fresh handkerchief.

Gregory pulled him closer and kissed him behind the ear. “God bless you again,” he said quietly.

Mycroft instinctively wanted to pull away from the embrace; he felt absolutely disgusting and didn’t understand how Gregory never faltered in his devotion, especially when he was a congested, sniffly mess, as he was now.

“Thank you,” Mycroft said, giving his nose a final wipe. “Again, my apologies,” he added. He gave a congested sniff, wrinkling the bridge of his long nose at his clogged sinuses.

“Mmmm. You’re welcome,” Gregory murmured into his ear. He pulled Mycroft closer, so he was lying with his head on Gregory’s chest. “You need to stop apologizing. It’s just me, and I don’t care.” He placed a kiss on the top of Mycroft’s head and reached for his hand.

Mycroft quickly pulled his hand away and sat up. “Let me go and wash my hands,” he said, much to Gregory’s confusion and dismay. He stood and his sinuses protested the move, the contents shifting. The intensity of the allergic fit once again left him unable to do anything more than cup his hands around his nose.

MmmmpfTISH! INGTishooo! Tishoooo! Heh-MmmmpfTISHoooo! Heh’MMMPFTISH! Heh’MMMPFTISH! Heh’INGTISH! Heh’TISSSHH!

Mycroft felt warm, steady hands bracing him and directing him to sit back down. His head swam and he felt dizzy. His ears felt blocked and he pinched his nose to unblock them.

“Jesus! God bless you, love! And again, and again!” Gregory said as he pulled Mycroft’s handkerchief from his dressing gown and pressed it into his hands, which were still cupped around his nose. Mycroft blushed furiously and nodded as he began to clean himself up.

“Thank you, my dear,” Mycroft said after a moment. He rose again, slowly this time, and found he was able to stand and then walk to the ensuite without further interruption.

Gregory frowned as Mycroft walked out of the room. He had no idea what else he could do; and being helpless wasn’t something that he was good at. He listened to the sounds of nose blowing and water running while he waited for Mycroft to re-emerge.

A few moments later, Mycroft returned. He looked exhausted; his eyes were red-rimmed and the tip of his nose was pink. Gregory watched as he removed his dressing gown and then climbed into bed beside him.

Mycroft reached over and clicked off the light beside him. “Good night, Gregory,” he said quietly, turning on his side away from Gregory and pulling the duvet up to his shoulder.

Gregory sat there on his side of the bed in disbelief. Mycroft always kissed him goodnight. He clicked off his own light. “Good night,” he said into the dark.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Oh poor Mycroft! An uncovered sneeze! Heaven forfend! He feels so disgusting he is sure that he is disgusting to Greg. I love how uncontrollable his sneezes were. Greg needs to snog that man senseless, so he forgets all about his misery!

[cally]

Oh poor Mycroft! An uncovered sneeze! Heaven forfend! He feels so disgusting he is sure that he is disgusting to Greg. I love how uncontrollable his sneezes were. Greg needs to snog that man senseless, so he forgets all about his misery!

I know, how humiliating for him! As if Gregory cares a bit!

206. ceiling

Gregory stared at the ceiling for some time. He knew Mycroft wasn’t yet asleep; his posture was tense and his breathing was far from even.

Finally, Gregory could no longer handle the tension, and sat up, flinging the duvet from him and flicking on the light next to him. He blinked rapidly in response to the brightness of the light and then muffled a pair of sneezes into the crook of his elbow.

Huhhrahhhshhhfff! Huhhrahhhshhhgnxt!

Mycroft sat up at the sound and turned to face his partner who was quickly ducking his head down again for a rare third sneeze.

Heh’HRDSCHHhhhh!

“God bless you, Gregory,” Mycroft said softly.

Gregory sniffed and plucked a tissue from the box on the nightstand. “Thanks. Sorry,” he murmured, wiping his nose.

“Think nothing of it,” Mycroft sighed. “Good night,” he added, and started to turn away. Gregory caught his arm.

“Mycroft, please,” he pleaded. “Don’t shut me out.” He rubbed his thumb along Mycroft’s forearm. The anger had dissipated, but he was still confused and annoyed.

Pinching his brow, Mycroft turned to face his lover. Gregory was shocked to see that he looked worse than when he had turned the light off. His blue eyes were red and irritated looking and were swimming with unshed allergic tears. Mycroft sniffed back a bead of moisture and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand.

All of Gregory’s remaining frustrations slipped away as he reached over for some tissues. He wiped away the tears from the corners of Mycroft’s eyes and then handed the tissues over to Mycroft and took his hand in his. “What’s wrong, love?”

Mycroft dabbed at his nose and looked down at their joined hands. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Some days I fear you will leave me, Gregory,” he said, his voice trembling. He chewed on his lower lip anxiously.

Gregory sat there, shocked into silence. “What . . . .how . . . .,” Gregory began, but Mycroft continued to speak.

“It is not because of anything you have done. You are the most wonderful man I have ever met, my dear. I just fear that you will finally tire of my ailments,” Mycroft said, sniffling. He could feel the irritation in his sinuses buzzing again, and he rubbed his nose in a valiant attempt to keep the paroxysms at bay.

Gregory frowned. He brought Mycroft’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “You know that I’m not bothered. It’s not your fault, love. I just wish you could see that,” Gregory sighed. This wasn’t the first time they had this conversation and he wished Mycroft could finally get past his hang-ups and anxieties in this case.

Gregory was about to kiss Mycroft’s hand again, but Mycroft pulled his hand away, quickly cupping the tissues around his nose as he sneezed a harsh quartet of congested sounding sneezes.

Huh’Hng’ISSH! MmmmpfTISH! Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH! AhhhhTISHOOO!

“Oh love. God bless you!” Gregory reached over and plucked another handful of tissues and handed them over.

“Thank you,” Mycroft murmured through a yawn, as he wiped and blew his nose.

Gregory yawned as well and reached over to turn out the light again. He waited for Mycroft to get situated, and then he pulled the younger man close, wrapping his arms around him.

Gregory kissed the back of Mycroft’s neck. “I’m not going to leave you, now or ever, love,” he whispered between kisses. “You should know that by now.”

[AngelEyes]

After the last sniffle, Gregory looked up from his novel and gave Mycroft (despite the fact he could not see) a sad smile. He hated to see how much his lover was suffering and would do anything to take away the misery he was currently undergoing. With an inaudible sigh, he returned to reading.

Poor Gregory. He wants so much to just fix everything.

Gregory put his book to the side. “God bless you,” he exclaimed as he watched Mycroft’s face contort as he tried to hold back from sneezing. “Oh, love. Just let go,” he added softly.

I love Gregory. So sympathetic. And silly Mycroft, always so worried.

Gregory frowned as Mycroft walked out of the room. He had no idea what else he could do; and being helpless wasn’t something that he was good at.

Just Awww.

[AngelEyes]

Finally, Gregory could no longer handle the tension, and sat up, flinging the duvet from him and flicking on the light next to him. He blinked rapidly in response to the brightness of the light and then muffled a pair of sneezes into the crook of his elbow.

I can totally picture this. He's been so sympathetic and helpless, and then Mycroft gets all shut down and he doesn't know what to do and finally he's just like, To hell with this! And his photic sneezes, always yum.

“Mycroft, please,” he pleaded. “Don’t shut me out.” He rubbed his thumb along Mycroft’s forearm. The anger had dissipated, but he was still confused and annoyed.

He's all I love you, stop being a prat. Trust me, I'm always here.

Mycroft dabbed at his nose and looked down at their joined hands. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Some days I fear you will leave me, Gregory,” he said, his voice trembling. He chewed on his lower lip anxiously.

Poor sweet dear. Always so worried and self conscious. You are wonderful and amazing!

This wasn’t the first time they had this conversation and he wished Mycroft could finally get past his hang-ups and anxieties in this case.

Exactly!

He waited for Mycroft to get situated, and then he pulled the younger man close, wrapping his arms around him.

Gregory kissed the back of Mycroft’s neck. “I’m not going to leave you, now or ever, love,” he whispered between kisses. “You should know that by now.”

Awwww. Always and forever!

[cally]

I can totally picture this. He's been so sympathetic and helpless, and then Mycroft gets all shut down and he doesn't know what to do and finally he's just like, To hell with this! And his photic sneezes, always yum.

Had it not been late, he probably would have been more annoyed than he was.

207. Rubik’s cube

a request by IthoughtIwastheonlyone

Sherlock sniffled in annoyance. He hated when his transport failed him. He sank exhaustedly into his chair, and rubbed his nose.

With a shiver, he pulled his dressing gown tighter around his lithe frame and sank deeper into the chair, as if he could hide from the illness itself. Blinking rapidly, his breath began to hitch erratically before he curled in on himself in a fit of ticklish expulsions.

Heh…….heh…….hhhhngxtsh! HngISHxt! Heh’NGISH! Hngxtshooo!

“Bless you, Sherlock!” John said as he came in with a steaming mug of tea for the ill consulting detective.

Sherlock looked up, damp eyed, his wrist still pressed to his nose. John gave him a fond look, and put the tea down next to him. He then crossed over to the coffee table, grabbed the box of tissues, and brought it over to Sherlock.

Sherlock snatched a handful and forcefully blew his nose, shaking his head as if he were trying to clear it. “Thadks,” he mumbled, shoving the used tissues into the pocket of his dressing gown.

John sat down in his chair across from Sherlock and sipped his own tea. He watched in amusement as Sherlock pulled a Rubik’s cube out from under his chair and stared at it, turning it around and around with his long fingers. It was similar to the way he had studied the deerstalker the first time he had seen it, and he chuckled to himself at the memory.

Sherlock looked up at the sound. “What?” He demanded.

John sipped his tea. “Nothing,” he said.

Sherlock sniffled and scowled. “What is this thing, anyways? Besides a cube covered in stickers, obviously.”

John burst into laughter but stopped when he saw Sherlock’s cross look.

“You really don’t know?” John asked.

Pouting, Sherlock sank back into his chair.

John took another sip of tea. “Sherlock, it’s called a Rubik’s cube. It was a toy popular in the 80’s. You had to arrange it to get all the same coloured stickers on one side.”

“Hmmmm. I must have ahhhhh deleted it,” he said before launching into another fit of sneezes.

Heh’NGISH! Hng’ISSH! Hngxtissshh! HhhshHNGXtishh!

“Bless you,” John said, frowning.

Sherlock snuffled into another handful of tissues. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

“Wait a second, Sherlock. Where did you get that, anyways?”

Sherlock rubbed at his nose and pointedly looked away.

John sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tell me you didn’t take that from the crime scene.”

“I didn’t take that from the crime scene,” Sherlock said, obviously lying.

“Sherlock, how many times do I have to tell you, you can’t take things from crime scenes? And not just me, Lestrade as well!”

“It was cobpletely irrelevadt to the case!” Sherlock snapped back. He would have been more convincing had his nose not been so congested.

HngISHxt! AHHngxtshh!

“Bless you again!” John exclaimed, pulling his mobile from his pocket. He began to compose a text.

“Thadks. Who are you texting?”

“Greg. He can decide whether or not to charge you with evidence tampering.”

Sherlock gave him an icy glare in return.

[AngelEyes]

John sat down in his chair across from Sherlock and sipped his own tea. He watched in amusement as Sherlock pulled a Rubik’s cube out from under his chair and stared at it, turning it around and around with his long fingers. It was similar to the way he had studied the deerstalker the first time he had seen it, and he chuckled to himself at the memory.

LOL! Death Frisbee?

John sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tell me you didn’t take that from the crime scene.”

“I didn’t take that from the crime scene,” Sherlock said, obviously lying.

Oh dear.

Adorable!

[IthoughtIwastheonlyone]

Cally, THANK YOU

I can totally picture this! And it's exactly as I would have imagined it to be: John explaining to Sherlock what the "cube covered in stickers" is because he has deleted it. Perfect, as always.

Thanks again

[cally]

LOL! Death Frisbee?

yes!

I can totally picture this! And it's exactly as I would have imagined it to be: John explaining to Sherlock what the "cube covered in stickers" is because he has deleted it. Perfect, as always.

I am so glad you enjoyed! I had fun with it! Apparently so much, that I joined it and the previous drabble to it and wrote some more!

208. home

The mattress shifting slightly woke Gregory, along with the sounds of a violent, muffled sneezing fit from his partner.

Heh’INGHtighsh! MmmpfTIGisssshh! Heh……huh’mmmmpTNSGH! HDSCHHhhhh! Heh’INGTISH! Heh’IMPFTIGHshooo!

“G’bless,” Gregory said sleepily, turning over to face Mycroft.

Mycroft was sitting on the edge of the bed, his body trembling. Gregory reached out for him, thinking something was wrong, until Mycroft curled in on himself, sneezing harshly.

ING’SHHHHH! ING’MMFPTIGHshhhh! Heh’TISSSSHH! Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH! Heh’INGTISH! Heh’TSSSCHH!

“Oh love. God bless you,” Gregory said softly. He slid over to Mycroft and put an arm around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He then reached over and plucked a handful of tissues, and with some coaxing, got Mycroft to swap the damp tissues for the fresh ones. They repeated this action a second time, after Mycroft blew his nose.

“Thadk you, my dear,” Mycroft said stuffily as he sat up straight. This gave Gregory a better look at his lover and he frowned at Mycroft’s appearance. He looked miserable; his eyes were puffy, red, and watery and he had dark circles under them. His nose didn’t look much better; his nostrils were tinged pink and Mycroft had to dab frequently at the moisture present there.

“You’re welcome, love.” Gregory kissed Mycroft gently on the lips this time, not wanting to over stimulate him. Mycroft smiled into the kiss, but had to pull back after a moment, sniffling wetly, as he dabbed at his nose.

“My apologies, Gregory,” he said quietly. He worried his lip, looking down at his lap.

“Oh, lovey,” Gregory said gently. He grabbed a tissue and wiped away a stray allergic tear from Mycroft’s eye. He then dabbed gently at Mycroft’s damp nostrils. “I’ve got you, it’s ok.” Gregory was attempting to be as gentle and nurturing as possible, given how strained Mycroft had seemed to be the evening before.

Mycroft sniffed and rubbed at his nose, trying to ward away another set of sneezes. Gregory reached over and grabbed yet another handful of tissues and pressed them into Mycroft’s hand. Mycroft’s breath hitched wildly and he quickly buried his nose into the offered tissues.

Heh’mmmpfTISH! INGTishooo! Tishoooo! Heh’mmmmpfTISH’ish! Heh’hi-TISSSHH! HDSCHHhhhhooo!

“God bless you again, love,” Gregory said when he was sure Mycroft was done. He felt that it was a woefully inadequate response to such a harsh and violent fit, so he hugged him a bit tighter.

“Thadk you,” Mycroft said, blowing his nose. “That was rather udpleasant,” he added.

“I wish there was something more I could do,” he said swapping out the tissues for his lover again.

Mycroft gave his nose a harsh blow, attempting to clear his sinuses enough so he could speak clearly, and considered what Gregory said.

“You being here is enough,” Mycroft said. He reached up and caressed Gregory’s cheek, and then brought him closer for another gentle kiss.

For once Gregory was able to convince Mycroft to work from home. Although in this instance, it would not have taken much convincing as Mycroft was already worn out.

Gregory stayed at home as long as he could, fetching tea and toast, more tissues, and making sure Mycroft had everything he possibly could need. Finally, Mycroft ushered him off to the Yard, as he made his way to his home office to attempt to get some work accomplished.

Gregory headed out, grabbing his mobile from his pocket when he felt it vibrate. He paused to read the text, rolled his eyes, and then sneezed explosively in the bright sunlight.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHooo!

He was not surprised by the text that appeared a moment later. Mycroft probably heard him all the way inside.

God bless you, Gregory. –MH

He quickly replied a thank you to Mycroft, and then sighed as he got in his car. He’d be making an unscheduled stop at Baker Street. Bloody Sherlock, he thought.

209. defiant

When he arrived at Baker Street, he took the stairs two at a time. He was going to murder Sherlock. He briefly wondered if Mycroft would help him dispose of the body, or have him killed as well. He shook his head at the ridiculous thought as he let himself in, the door already being ajar.

Lestrade found Sherlock sulking in his chair, looking dishevelled. There was something about him that Lestrade couldn’t put his finger on, but he ignored it. He stood there and stared at the consulting detective.

Sherlock sighed and sat up in his chair. He gave a defiant glare in Lestrade’s direction.

“Sherlock! How many times do I have to tell you?” Lestrade began to pace back and forth, running a hand through his silver hair. “It’s not a difficult rule to follow. I really should haul your sorry arse in for this, you know.”

Lestrade stopped in his tracks and turned around to face Sherlock, who had yet to say one word in his defence. Sherlock was sitting there, an odd look on his face. His eyes then quickly fluttered shut and he ducked his head down into his shoulder.

HngISHxt! Hng’ISSH!

Lestrade frowned. “God bless you,” he said.

Sherlock sniffled wetly. “Thanks,” he mumbled, through another sniffle.

Lestrade looked around for tissues, and finding none, pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over.

“Thank you,” Sherlock said quietly. He gently blew his nose and coughed weakly.

Lestrade sat down in John’s chair and looked Sherlock over. He looked miserable, and he felt a tiny pang of regret from yelling at him.

“Where’s John?” He finally asked, breaking the silence.

Sherlock swiped at his nose again and shrugged. “I think he went to the hehhhh store,” he said before succumbing once again.

Hngxt! HngISHxt! Hng’ISSH! Hngxtissshh!

“God bless you, Sherlock,” Lestrade said.

Sherlock nodded his thanks and blew his nose again, making a face as he did so.

“Are you ok?”

Sherlock shrugged. “Id’s just a cold,” he mumbled.

210. tea

They both looked up as John came in, arms laden with carrier bags.

“Hi Greg,” he called as he carried the bags into the kitchen. “Tea?” He asked.

“No thanks, John. I have to be getting on in a few.”

Sherlock sniffled pathetically and looked up with rheumy eyes in John’s direction.

Lestrade sniggered and Sherlock gave him a glare, which turned into a smug smile when he heard the kettle click on.

John came out into the sitting room with a box of tissues and a packet of biscuits. He gave Lestrade a look as if to say, oh like you don’t do it too.

Guilty as charged, Lestrade thought to himself.

Through a mouthful of custard crèmes, Sherlock mumbled, “So how is my dear brother?” Sherlock’s mood had improved markedly since John had arrived home and he was ready for his favourite activity, snarking on his brother.

“Do you really care?” Lestrade snapped.

“Oh, he must be miserable then,” Sherlock said.

“Really, Sherlock?” John said, exasperated. “Sorry,” he mouthed toward Lestrade.

Lestrade lost what little patience he had with Sherlock. “He is miserable, if you must know. His eyes are so swollen he can hardly see, and he’s had a sinus headache for the better part of a week, but he never complains. Not once. He’s running himself ragged with work, and you’re just sitting here, gloating over stealing evidence from a crime scene!”

Defeated, Lestrade put his head in his hands.

John quietly slipped out of the room to make tea. He glared at Sherlock, who was, for once, stunned into silence.

After a few moments of silence, Sherlock finally spoke. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise . . . ,“ he began, but faltered.

Lestrade looked up.

“I didn’t realise how much you care for him,” Sherlock finished after a moment.

“Yeah, Sherlock. I do. I love him. And it tears me up inside to see him suffering like this,” Lestrade sniffed, trying to keep his emotions in check.

He gave a weak smile at John who had come in with tea for the three of them. “Cheers, John,” he said.

“Thank you,” Sherlock said softly, accepting his own tea.

John sat down on the edge of Sherlock’s chair. He sipped his tea and waited.

Lestrade took a sip of tea and pulled himself together.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said.

“It’s ok,” John said. “You look tired,” he added.

Lestrade nodded. He had not slept well with worry over Mycroft.

Sherlock made a scoffing sound, but was able to cover it with a well-timed pair of violent sneezes.

Heh’NGISH! NGISHOOO!

“God bless you!” Lestrade said.

“Bless you, Sherlock,” John echoed. Putting his tea down, he opened the box of tissues and handed a fair handful to his flatmate.

“Thags,” Sherlock murmured.

“Are you feeling any better?” John asked, as he ran a hand through Sherlock’s unruly curls. Lestrade almost smiled, thinking about how many times he and John must be in similar situations.

Sherlock nodded, and unconsciously leaned into the touch.

Lestrade had to look away at the intimacy of their interaction. It made his heart ache uncomfortably. He decided that he would go and pick up his files and return home; home was where he needed to be.

[matilda3948]

Aww Been gone for a few days and come back to find all these yummy drabbles.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

I've not had the opportunity to check in recently and how wonderful to find Cally has been busy! I love the intersecting story lines.

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

[AngelEyes]

Mystrade/Johnlock crossover! It's Christmas!

Mycroft gave his nose a harsh blow, attempting to clear his sinuses enough so he could speak clearly, and considered what Gregory said.

“You being here is enough,” Mycroft said.

Poor absolutely miserable Mycroft. Letting himself be comforted. Awww.

Gregory headed out, grabbing his mobile from his pocket when he felt it vibrate. He paused to read the text, rolled his eyes, and then sneezed explosively in the bright sunlight.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHooo!

He was not surprised by the text that appeared a moment later. Mycroft probably heard him all the way inside.

LOL. Mmmmm.

He gave Lestrade a look as if to say, oh like you don’t do it too.

Guilty as charged, Lestrade thought to himself.

John and Greg. True saints caring for a couple of overgrown boys.

Through a mouthful of custard crèmes, Sherlock mumbled, “So how is my dear brother?” Sherlock’s mood had improved markedly since John had arrived home and he was ready for his favourite activity, snarking on his brother.

Soooo Sherlock!

“Are you feeling any better?” John asked, as he ran a hand through Sherlock’s unruly curls. Lestrade almost smiled, thinking about how many times he and John must be in similar situations.

Awww. I love hair ruffling. Gods but I would love to run my fingers through their hair!

[cally]

Aww Been gone for a few days and come back to find all these yummy drabbles.

As always, I am glad you enjoyed.

I've not had the opportunity to check in recently and how wonderful to find Cally has been busy! I love the intersecting story lines.

Cally has been procrastinating.

Mystrade/Johnlock crossover! It's Christmas!

I do try.

Oh Sherlock. So adorable. And he knows how to get what he wants.

He certainly does.

I'm wicked stressed out so since I got my hair done today and I couldn't go for a run (I'm not wasting my hairdressers hard work ) and it's late, I figured the next best thing would be to write. I may have gotten a bit carried away.

211. sunglasses

Gregory drained his teacup and stood. “Cheers for the tea, John,” he said. He held out his hand toward Sherlock and waited.

Sherlock looked up and rolled his eyes. But in the end he dutifully pulled the Rubik’s cube from the pocket of his dressing gown and handed it over.

“Ta for that Sherlock. Next time, I will toss you in the cells overnight and I won’t let Mycroft bail you out!”

Sherlock had the decency to avoid Lestrade’s eyes.

“Right then,” Lestrade said, as he moved toward the door.

“I’ll walk you out,” John said.

As they walked down the stairs John sighed. “Sorry about him, Greg.”

Lestrade had to chuckle; there was nothing else for it. “I just don’t understand why. It was just a kids toy.” He shook his head as they walked out onto Baker Street. Lestrade was immediately bent nearly double with the force of an overly harsh sneeze.

Heh’HRDSCHHhhhh!

“Bless you!” John exclaimed. “Are you ok?”

Sniffing, Lestrade nodded. “Thanks. I’ve really got to find my sunglasses,” he said.

“Catch up soon, yeah?” John asked.

“Sure thing. See you later. And good luck with himself up there.”

John rolled his eyes and headed back inside.

212. Reddened

After a quick stop at the Yard, and at the deli Mycroft favoured, Gregory headed home. He was looking forward to a quiet late afternoon and evening filled with a little paperwork. He hoped that he could convince Mycroft to take a break after dinner and maybe watch a film. Mycroft worked so hard, and he knew how difficult it was for him at this time of year. Anything he could do to ease the burden, he would do. He hoped Mycroft knew that. He began to think of all of the possible things he could do to help alleviate his symptoms. He made a mental note to ask John if he knew of any allergy specialists that he could talk to.

Mycroft had a productive afternoon in his home office. He responded to several memos, listened in on a tediously boring conference call with the Prime Minster, and arranged his schedule for the following week with Anthea. Unfortunately, he was feeling no better; his eyes were so gritty, itchy, and irritated, he was constantly rubbing at them. He was certain they must be terribly reddened by now and he wished he had some eye drops downstairs.

He rubbed his nose and sniffled. He was terribly congested and drippy both at the same time and he found it uncomfortable and intolerable. He rubbed at the sinus cavity below his eyes, wincing at the pressure and pain. He had a rather substantial headache as well and knew he would be forced to take some sort of pain relief before the afternoon was out. He disliked how the medication made him feel and he was forced to employ considerable mental control to keep from succumbing to drowsiness on top of the irritations of hayfever as well.

Pinching his nostrils, he stifled a pair of ticklish sneezes.

Hehhhh…….Mmmpfx! Mmmpftish!

He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose as best as he could with the thick congestion present. He rubbed his twitching eye with a dry corner of the soft, silken cloth and sighed, picking up yet another file that needed reading.

213. rubbing

The townhouse was quiet when Gregory arrived home. He put the soup in the kitchen and quickly headed upstairs to gather a few things that he was sure Mycroft would be needing by now. As brilliant as his partner was, he tended to work himself to the bone and avoid simple things that could, albeit temporarily, alleviate some of his symptoms.

The door to Mycroft’s office was ajar and Gregory slipped inside. He found Mycroft poring over a thick file. He was wearing his reading glasses, a clear indication of how unwell he must be feeling. Despite the reasons behind it, Gregory took a moment to appreciate how divine his partner looked wearing his glasses; a sight he was only occasionally privy to.

His lover was rubbing his eye with slow, circular motions and was blinking frequently, as if trying to flush the irritation present. He seemed thoroughly immersed in his reading material; the rubbing seemed to be happening unconsciously.

Gregory stood watching quietly, until Mycroft finally recognised his presence. He nearly jumped out of his seat, a sure indication that he was thoroughly distracted. He quickly removed his reading glasses, putting them down on the desk.

“Gregory! How long have you been standing there?” Mycroft asked, rising from his seat. He was shocked that he had not noticed the figure of his lover in the doorway.

Gregory frowned at the loss of the glasses, and at the sound of his voice. Mycroft sounded awfully congested. “Just a few minutes,” he said, coming further into the room. He was about to hand over the items he had brought with him when Mycroft whirled to the side, cupping his hands over his nose.

Ahhh…heh…MmmpfTIGisssshh! Mmmpftish! Mmmpftinghsh! INGTish! INGHtighish! AhhhhTISH!

“God bless,” Gregory began, but Mycroft waved a hand at him as he frantically grabbed for his handkerchief before succumbing to several additional paroxysms.

ING’SHHHHH! ING’MMFPTIGHshhhh! Heh’TISSSSHH! Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH!

“God bless you, love! And again, and again, and again!”

Gregory walked over to where Mycroft was standing and gently helped him back into his chair. He waited until Mycroft was done attending to his nose, and then he swapped out the now useless handkerchief for the fresh one he had brought along, ignoring Mycroft’s protests. He then reached for a tissue from the box on the desk and began to gently wipe away the allergic tears that had coursed down Mycroft’s face. Despite the continued objections, Gregory wiped away the persistent moisture that had begun to gather once again from his red-tinged nostrils. He did this as carefully as he could, not wanting to set Mycroft off again.

Gregory gave him a warm smile; almost astounded in the depth of feeling and emotion that had filled him on seeing how absolutely wretched Mycroft had to be feeling. He placed a soft, tender kiss on Mycroft’s forehead.

“Thank you, Gregory. My apologies,” he said, his voice thick with congestion. He reached out and squeezed his partner’s hand; he felt a bit overwhelmed at the love being expressed toward him. Sniffling, he winced at the sinus pressure and rubbed at his aching forehead.

“Maybe you should take a break?” Gregory asked gently.

214. headway

Reluctantly, Mycroft nodded. He knew he would make no additional headway on reading right now. He allowed himself to be led out of the room and into the sitting room. With no vocalised protestation, Mycroft wordlessly took the sinus and headache medication his lover had thoughtfully brought with him.

Gregory then sat down on the couch and had him lay down in front of him, with his head in Gregory’s lap. He then began to card his fingers gently through Mycroft’s soft auburn hair, and slowly the younger man began to relax. Mycroft let out a soft, nearly indecent moan, as Gregory’s large fingers began to relieve the stresses and the ails of the day.

Gregory watched the slow rise and fall of Mycroft’s waistcoat covered chest and smiled sadly as he occasionally brought his hand up to rub at his obviously still ticklish nose. Suddenly, Mycroft tensed and sneezed explosively, barely able to bring his wrist up to cover his nose in time.

Heh’MmmmpfTISHoooo!

“God bless you,” Gregory said as he quickly reached behind him for the tissues and pressed a fair handful into Mycroft’s hand, whose breath hitched in anticipation of the flurry of heady sneezes that soon shook his frame.

Heh’INGHtighsh! MmmpfTIGisssshh! TNSGH’ish! HDSCHHhhhh! Heh’TISSSSHH! Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH!

“Oh love. God bless you again!”

Gregory reached behind him again and moved the tissue box so that it was next to his partner. Mycroft weakly nodded his thanks as he gave his nose several thick blows. After a few moments, he had amassed a pile of used tissues and looked damp eyed up at Gregory as he swiped at his nose. The inside of his sinuses and nostrils felt like a colony of ants had taken up residence inside, such was the issue of the relentless tickle that plagued him.

“Thank you, my dear. Please do excuse me,” he said quietly.

“Love, please don’t worry about it. I’ve got you,” Gregory replied. “All right now?” He asked in addition.

Mycroft nodded, rubbing his index finger under his nose.

“Lay back down then, ok?”

The younger man complied, placing his head back in Gregory’s lap.

215. left

Gregory resumed his ministrations, and Mycroft once again began to relax. The DI smiled, as he felt the tension ease from his partner. He took Mycroft’s hand with his free one, intertwining their fingers.

“I saw your brother today,” Gregory said.

“Mmmm? I’m terribly sorry,” Mycroft replied.

Gregory chuckled. “He stole evidence from a crime scene and I threatened to toss him in the cells overnight. I might have done it this time too, but he’s got a cold. Next time he does it I will, and I won’t let you bail him out.”

Mycroft’s lips twitched in a smile. “Perhaps a night in jail would be illuminating for him, Gregory.”

Gregory scoffed. “I doubt it. He’d be just as insufferable as he is now.”

“Probably,” Mycroft conceded. “Did you mention that Sherlock was unwell?”

“Yeah, he’s got a bit of a cold I guess. He didn’t seem too phased.”

“By that, I am assuming you mean he was well enough to insult me?”

Gregory couldn’t help but laugh, throwing his head back as he did so. He managed to look directly at the light bulb in the lamp on the table behind him. Quickly turning his head, he heaved out a gasping sneeze.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHooo!

Mycroft quickly sat up and faced Gregory. “Goodness. God bless you, my dear.” He handed a tissue over, studying his lover intently.

“Thanks,” Gregory said. He quickly blew his nose and then ran a hand across his face. He noticed Mycroft’s intense look and frowned.

“That was what, your sixth sneeze of the day? Are you feeling unwell, Gregory?”

“I’m fine,” Gregory said emphatically, trying to alleviate any worry that Mycroft might have. “I just really need to find my sunglasses, that or buy a new pair,” he added. Mycroft nodded, but resolved to keep an eye on his lover.

Mycroft settled back into Gregory’s arms; his headache had abated enough that he was able to sit up a bit more and take full advantage of the comfort of being offered. He re-joined their hands and gently rubbed his thumb along Gregory’s knuckles.

Gregory placed a kiss on the top of Mycroft’s head and hugged him a bit tighter. He looked down at their intertwined left hands and wondered what it would be like if there was a small addition to each. They hadn’t really talked about it; there had been no need once Gregory moved in. The idea had lingered in the back of Gregory’s mind, however.

He wondered if that was what Mycroft needed. It certainly would show that he was fully committed to this relationship no matter what. He felt hope and excitement bloom within him; now that he really thought about it, it was something he wanted, desperately.

[stargazer]

Carried away? Never. You make me jealous of how fast you can write.

[AngelEyes]

Despite the reasons behind it, Gregory took a moment to appreciate how divine his partner looked wearing his glasses; a sight he was only occasionally privy to.

Mmmm. Mycroft in glasses. Yum.

Gregory stood watching quietly, until Mycroft finally recognised his presence.

I love that Gregory loves to just watch his lover. So sweet.

Gregory then sat down on the couch and had him lay down in front of him, with his head in Gregory’s lap. He then began to card his fingers gently through Mycroft’s soft auburn hair, and slowly the younger man began to relax. Mycroft let out a soft, nearly indecent moan, as Gregory’s large fingers began to relieve the stresses and the ails of the day.

Awww!

“I saw your brother today,” Gregory said.

“Mmmm? I’m terribly sorry,” Mycroft replied.

LOL!

“By that, I am assuming you mean he was well enough to insult me?”

Oh dear. Brothers!

He looked down at their intertwined left hands and wondered what it would be like if there was a small addition to each.

Awwwww!!!!!!!! Yay!

And I absolutely love all the references to Greg needing to get sunglasses. I just find it totally hot. And poor Mycroft's epic fits. Poor dear. But mmmm.