Cally's Sherlock drabble thread #1 442/442

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

Darn it, Cally, you've finally done it: gotten me to not just read Mystrade, but look forward to more!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

A veritable feast of drabbles! Gregory's photic sneezes have got me thinking. Can I pm you with an idea? I am enjoying your procrastinating.

[IthoughtIwastheonlyone]

More, more, more! I need more I love your drabbles

[cally]

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

I probably spend too much time on these, especially when I really, really should be doing other things. But when I'm in the zone, so to speak, I sort of get carried away.

But thank you.

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.

I finally put it to rest! (Not Mycroft's fits, that would be silly!)

Darn it, Cally, you've finally done it: gotten me to not just read Mystrade, but look forward to more!

My work here is done. Once you go Mystrade you can't go back.

A veritable feast of drabbles! Gregory's photic sneezes have got me thinking. Can I pm you with an idea? I am enjoying your procrastinating.

Of course you can! I am enjoying my procrastinating too. My thesis is not.

More, more, more! I need more I love your drabbles

thank you so much

Ok, before I post today's drabbles, after today, there will be 2 more drabbles, bringing me up to 221 for the second time. I think it's time that this thread was retired.

Not to worry, I will start a "Cally's drabble thread II!" I am trying to decide if I should have a separate Mystrade and Sherlock general/Johnlock threads as I know not everyone is into Mystrade and this way they don't have to scroll through pages of Mystrade if they do not want to. Something I'm thinking about, and comments and the like are welcome.

216. break

The next day, Gregory sent a text to Anthea. He was going to need to rely on her help, if this was going to work.

I need you to keep Mycroft from tracking my whereabouts this afternoon. –GL

Is there any particular reason that you think he does this? –A

Seriously? At any rate, I’m buying him a gift and I’d like it to be a surprise. –GL

Do you need any assistance? -A

Anthea had been a godsend when he had been trying to find Mycroft a gift about a year ago, and he appreciated her assistance immensely. He smiled fondly at the memory as he replied.

In this case, this is something I need to do on my own. Thank you for the offer though. -GL

Anytime. Don’t forget to buy yourself a pair of sunglasses. -A

Gregory rolled his eyes but was grateful for the reminder nevertheless.

Gregory headed out for an extended lunch break. As he left the Yard he attempted to shield his eyes with his hand in hopes of keeping from succumbing to another sneeze. He was successful until he had to unlock the door to his car.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHooo!

Sniffling, he got in his car and headed to Mycroft’s favourite antique shop. He was hopeful that there would be something suitable for his lover. Now that he was invested in this, he didn’t want anything to stand in his way.

He parked in the shade and quickly slipped into the shop on the off chance that Anthea wasn’t able to keep Mycroft from monitoring his activity. He was fairly sure that he wasn’t being watched; Mycroft hadn’t texted him a blessing when he sneezed.

He took his time exploring the shop; he had come to enjoy the bits of antiquing that they did when they had a free weekend off together. After twenty minutes of looking about, he was about to give up and head back to the Yard. And then he spied a small display case tucked away in a corner. The case was filled with some antique lacy earrings and large, bejewelled brooches. In the very back, was an old gold band, still shiny despite its age. It was the perfect size ring in every way, not being too thick or too thin. He called the shopkeeper over and asked to see it. The older man smiled at Gregory as he handed it over. Gregory knew that if it fit on his pinky finger, it would fit on Mycroft’s ring finger.

Breathless with anticipation, he slipped it on and smiled.

217. penny

That evening, Mycroft and Gregory were lying on the couch. The news was on, but muted and Gregory was running his fingers through Mycroft’s hair. He had to keep his excitement and subsequent anxieties at bay; he had no idea what would happen.

He was lost in his thoughts when Mycroft met his lips in a gentle kiss. “A penny for your thoughts, my dear,” he whispered against his mouth.

Gregory chuckled. “Only a penny?”

“Perhaps more can be arranged. What were you thinking about just now, Gregory? You look troubled.” Mycroft gently caressed Gregory’s cheek with the tips of his fingers.

“I’m not even sure, just daydreaming I suppose,” Gregory replied, keeping his voice light. He bent his head down and kissed his partner in the hopes of keeping his curiosity at bay. When Mycroft hummed into the kiss, he was relieved.

When they finally broke apart, Mycroft smiled at him. “Did you think any further about what you wanted to do tomorrow?”

To be honest, Gregory hadn’t; he had been that preoccupied. “No love, did you have something in mind?”

Mycroft idly rubbed his nose. “It is supposed to be a nice day, I thought we might take a walk through Regent’s Park.”

Gregory blinked and took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Love, you are aware it’s spring. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Mycroft had anticipated this reaction. He was tired of avoiding the outdoors for a good portion of the year. He wanted to take a walk and enjoy London during its most beautiful time of year. “I am certain that if I take a double amount of my medication, it should be more than adequate for me to enjoy a short walk,” he said.

Gregory frowned. “If you’re sure.”

“Gregory, do you not think that perhaps I miss those types of activities?” Mycroft’s voice was soft, and a bit sad.

Gregory met Mycroft’s eyes and saw that he had a wistful, longing look on his face, and he suddenly felt an ache deep within his heart. He hadn’t thought that Mycroft would care about ‘taking the air’ or anything like that. And then it dawned on him; Mycroft had probably never been able to really enjoy a spring outdoors for most of his life.

Gregory pulled Mycroft closer to him, and held him tight. “If you want to go for a walk, then that’s what we’ll do,” he whispered, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.

They remained like that for a few moments, each taking comfort from one another. It was Mycroft who had to break the embrace; despite having already doubled up his medication for the day, an urgent, needy tickle had made itself known. He sat up and turned as far away from his partner as he could, stifling the expulsions.

Hmmmmpffish! Mmmmmpftish! Mmmmmpftish! Heh’INGTISH! Heh’TISSSHH! Heh’MMMPFTISH!

“God bless you, love.” Gregory reached over and plucked a few tissues from the nearby box and pressed them into Mycroft’s hand.

“Mmmm. Thank you my dear,” Mycroft said. He blew his nose, careful not to trigger another flurry of sneezes.

“You’re welcome,” Gregory said, pulling Mycroft back into his arms.

218. sunblock

Saturday was a gorgeous day, not a cloud in the sky. Gregory found Mycroft in their ensuite, carefully rubbing sunblock into his face. He smiled as he watched him carefully make sure every inch of skin was covered. He smiled even broader when he realised Mycroft was wearing the cashmere jumper he had bought for him the previous spring. In fact, Mycroft was ‘dressed down’ for once. He had paired the navy jumper with a white oxford shirt and dark grey trousers. He knew, in an instant, that this was most certainly the day.

As a precaution, Gregory had slipped an extra handkerchief and antihistamine into the pocket of his jeans. In his other pocket was the purchase he had made yesterday afternoon.

He was surprised to find the car waiting for them as they left, but then he realised Mycroft would probably want an escape plan just in case. His surprise quickly turned to annoyance as they walked out to the car; his breath hitching rapidly before the forcefulness of the sneeze overtook him. Mycroft caught his arm, holding him steady.

Huh-etcssssSHHhhhhoo!

“My goodness, Gregory. God bless you!” Mycroft made a move to reach for his handkerchief, but Gregory waved him off, knowing his lover would most certainly need it later. He pulled a crumpled tissue from the back pocket of his jeans and wiped his nose.

“Thank you. Sorry. I’ve really got to buy a new pair of sunglasses,” he said sheepishly as they got in the car.

Mycroft gave him a smile and produced a pair from the pocket of his trousers. “My driver found these last evening. I meant to give them to you before we left, but you were outside before I could get the chance.”

Gregory slipped them on top of his head. “Thanks,” he said. He looked Mycroft over carefully. His lover still had dark circles under his eyes, and his eyelids still had some remnants of puffiness, but other than that, he looked better than he had in days. Gregory wondered if it was the medication, or the placebo effect of finally taking a chance and doing something he had wanted for sometime. He reached over and squeezed Mycroft’s hand.

Mycroft smiled in return and gave an almost imperceptible sniff. He had managed to only give into one brief fit this morning; his usual morning sneezes and he didn’t want to give in to the irritating tickle that was building. He rubbed his nose, hoping that he could will it away.

Gregory saw that he was fighting a losing battle. He gave his hand another gentle squeeze. “It’s just us here, you know,” he said.

Mycroft gave a brief nod, before turning his head to the side, giving into the irritation.

Hmmmmpffish! Mmmmmpftish! Mmmmmpftish! Heh’INGTISHooo!

“God bless you, love.”

“Thank you my dear,” Mycroft said quietly. He removed his handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose gently. “My apologies. And before you ask, I am fine, Gregory.”

Gregory gave him a tender kiss in response.

219. kaleidoscope

They arrived at Regent’s Park after a short drive. Gregory made sure he put his sunglasses on before he eagerly exited the car; Mycroft’s lips twitched in a smile as he watched his partner. He seemed awfully energetic this morning. Gregory had blamed it on an extra cup of coffee, but Mycroft wasn’t convinced.

They began to walk through the park filled with runners, families, and happy couples enjoying the beautiful weather. The trees were a vibrant green and the flowers in bloom were a radiant kaleidoscope of colours. Mycroft smiled a genuine smile as they took their time walking through the gardens.

Gregory watched his lover enjoy himself. He was positively beaming. Had Gregory known something this simple could bring such joy to Mycroft, he would have suggested it much sooner. He reached out and gently brushed his fingers against Mycroft’s hand, a soft, intimate touch. Mycroft turned and gave him a soft, heartfelt look, and Gregory’s heart swelled.

They continued to walk; Mycroft sharing details about the park that Gregory hadn’t known. He was always impressed with the level of knowledge he was able to impart about absolutely anything under the sun.

Mycroft turned to point something out to Gregory, and paused mid-sentence. He ducked his head down into the crook of his arm, stifling several painful sounding sneezes.

Mmmmmpfx! Mmmmpfch! Mmmmmpfx! Mmmmmpftish!

“God bless you,” Gregory said quietly.

“Thank you. My apologies, Gregory,” Mycroft replied.

“Why don’t we sit down for a few minutes?” Gregory suggested.

Mycroft nodded and they found a bench out of the way of the many Londoners who were taking advantage of the fine weather. Mycroft removed his handkerchief and quickly blew his nose. Gregory studied him carefully, checking to make sure he wasn’t suffering, knowing full well he would never say that he was.

Mycroft made a small sound of contentment, and closed his eyes, relaxing in the warmth of the sunshine. Gregory smiled, watching him unwind. The fine lines of worry around his lover’s eyes had seemed to melt away as he simply sat quietly. He carefully removed his sunglasses so he could get a better look.

Gregory was overcome with such a fierce longing; never had he felt such a tide of emotion sweeping over him. In this perfect moment, he couldn’t imagine loving anyone else. This moment that they were sharing was one of many that no one else saw; it was theirs alone. Those cherished, intimate moments in bed together. Or when Gregory had been working a case for three days straight and Mycroft brought him a coffee, their fingers ghosting over each other’s. Or when Mycroft would come home after a dismal day at work where something had gone terribly wrong and would just curl up in Gregory’s arms until he could breathe again. The simple, dear moments of just sharing a cup of tea in the evening where no words needed to be said. Those were the moments that mattered; they would be the ones he would treasure until his dying day.

When Mycroft opened his eyes, he was taken aback by the look of love and adoration on Gregory’s face. And then he saw the tears, and he gasped softly.

Gregory blinked; he hadn’t realised he had begun to cry. Mycroft gently thumbed the tears away. “Gregory?” He asked, hesitantly.

Gregory sniffed, and knew that this was the moment. He stood up, slipping his hand into his pocket quickly, and then knelt down in front of Mycroft.

All of the things he had been thinking about; he was unsure how to put all of that into words. So he reached up and pulled Mycroft in for a kiss, trying to put everything he was feeling within his heart into it, knowing Mycroft would simply know. When they broke apart, Mycroft had to wipe away another tear from Gregory’s cheek.

“Love,” Gregory said, his voice thick with emotion. “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?” He held out the simple, gold band.

Gasping again, Mycroft pressed a hand to his mouth. Of all the things he was expecting from today, this certainly wasn’t one of them.

“Oh, my dearest heart. Was there ever any question?” Mycroft bit down hard on his lip to keep his own tears from falling.

Gregory slipped the ring on; it was a perfect fit. When Gregory looked up again, he found that he was not the only one with teary eyes. He tenderly wiped the tears off Mycroft’s face and joined him back on the bench, before pulling him in for another kiss.

When they finally broke apart, they were both still damp eyed. They shared a smile, and Mycroft removed his handkerchief and wiped his eyes and gave his nose a gentle blow. Unfortunately, it had the adverse effect of triggering another ticklish set of sneezes.

Mmmmmpfx! Mmmmmpftish! Mmmmmpftish! Heh’mmmmpftISHoo!

He had tried to muffle them as much as possible, but the last one was harder to control, and was far more audible than he would have liked.

“Do excuse me, Gregory,” Mycroft said, blushing slightly.

“Oh love. God bless you!” Gregory gave him a soft smile.

“Thank you. My . . .,” Mycroft began, but was cut off by Gregory’s finger on his lips.

“There is absolutely no need for you to apologise, Mycroft,” he said. “It’s not a bother. You’re not a bother.” He gently cupped Mycroft’s face and kissed his forehead. “I love you.”

Mycroft nodded. “And I love you, Gregory.” He paused for a moment. “Take me home, my dearest heart.”

[coldcure08]

Squeeeeeee! That was the most adorable proposal!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Those were so sweet and tender! Loved them! Wonderful proposal scene.

Regarding input on how to manage future threads I know I like stories that crossover and link (like you did in the drabbles that preceded the last 3-4.). If you had separate threads for Mystrade and Sherlock/Johnlock I'd miss that. But maybe there is a way to add links between the two threads when a storyline in one mixes with another?

[matilda3948]

Ok, before I post today's drabbles, after today, there will be 2 more drabbles, bringing me up to 221 for the second time. I think it's time that this thread was retired.

Not to worry, I will start a "Cally's drabble thread II!"

Okay, at first I was very concerned that I was going to go through Cally writing withdrawal. Glad you'll be starting a new thread.

[cally]

Squeeeeeee! That was the most adorable proposal!

Thank you! I enjoyed writing it.

Those were so sweet and tender! Loved them! Wonderful proposal scene.

Regarding input on how to manage future threads I know I like stories that crossover and link (like you did in the drabbles that preceded the last 3-4.). If you had separate threads for Mystrade and Sherlock/Johnlock I'd miss that. But maybe there is a way to add links between the two threads when a storyline in one mixes with another?

Thank you! I wondered about that too. I'm still not sure how I am going to work it. Maybe I'll just leave it at one thread. I don't know.

Okay, at first I was very concerned that I was going to go through Cally writing withdrawal. Glad you'll be starting a new thread.

Sorry! I couldn't resist being a terrible tease!

Wow, this makes (if my count is right, and I'm not going back to count!) 442 drabbles. Insanity.

220. Patience

Mycroft Holmes was determined not to roll his eyes or lose his patience. This meeting was only supposed to have taken an hour, but was now going into its third. He could hardly stand idiot politicians on a good day and today was most certainly not a good day. He was spectacularly under the weather, and had been for some time. He could not seem to shake this cold, and unfortunately it seemed to be getting worse.

As the other people around the table droned on, he was aware of an irritating ticklish presence within his nostrils. He had excellent mental control, of course, but after a few hours of fighting back similar irritations, he feared he might lose the battle.

Feigning a text that needed his utmost and immediate attention, he stood and made his apologies as he exited the room. He made his way to the restroom, and shut and locked the door behind him. Slumping up against the door, he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket. He waited impatiently for the inevitable; his nostrils flaring precipitously. He gave a slight sniff, and felt his breath hitch erratically as he was finally rewarded, stifling the expulsions within the depths of the cloth.

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

Sighing, he made a valiant attempt to blow his nose and felt his sinuses protest the action. He tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket and walked over to the sink and washed his hands. Looking up, he was shocked at his reflection in the mirror. His nose was tinged a rosy pink, colour was high on his cheeks, and there was a faint sheen of sweat on his brow. His fever must have returned, he idly thought. There was no way he could go back to that meeting now; it was clearly apparent to anyone that looked at him that he was unwell, and that would be a huge disadvantage for him.

He pulled his mobile out and texted Anthea. He asked her to arrange for his apologies to be made and for a car to be made available to take him home. She replied right away alerting him that the arrangements had been made. He thanked her for efficiency and discretion. He straightened his tie and exited the restroom and made his way to the exit.

He exited the building and made his way outside. He very nearly did a double take when he saw who was waiting for him.

Gregory Lestrade was standing against his car, one leg up against the door, arms crossed. He looked angry; his jaw was set and his eyes were tight. He looked up as he watched Mycroft walk over to the car, a look of surprise on his face.

“Gregory,” he croaked out.

Gregory’s resolve nearly broke when he saw how ill Mycroft looked. He wasn’t sure how the younger man was steady on his feet, to be honest. He took a breath and set his jaw again.

“Just get in the car, Mycroft,” he said tersely as he opened the door and climbed in.

Mycroft joined him seconds later and once they were both settled, Gregory started the car and began to drive. It took a significant effort to not give into the anger he was feeling, to lecture Mycroft on taking care of himself. He knew that the discussion would fall on deaf ears, as it did every time his partner worked himself to the bone while ill and failed to take any time to recuperate. The most maddening part of this was that Mycroft had nearly fainted last night, prompting a rushed visit by John to look him over. He had prescribed an antibiotic along with bed rest, but when Gregory woke this morning, Mycroft’s side of the bed was long vacant and cold.

Gregory risked a glance over in Mycroft’s direction. His heart ached on seeing the pure exhaustion settled in his lover’s appearance. He looked back at the road with a sigh.

A sudden movement in his peripheral vision had Gregory casting another look over. Mycroft had quickly removed his handkerchief from his pocket; his head tipped back and eyes closed in sneezy anticipation. The sneezes that finally exploded from him were thick and heady, sure indication Mycroft had been holding back for hours.

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

“God bless you,” he said quietly, trying to keep the anger at bay, knowing it certainly wouldn’t help matters.

Mycroft began to furiously blow his nose, trying to clear out the congestion while he felt he was able. Gregory winced at the sound.

“Thank you, Gregory. My apologies,” Mycroft said hoarsely. He gave his nose a final blow and made a rather uncharacteristic and disgusted sound.

They had stopped at a red light and Gregory looked over at Mycroft again. He had made a face of revulsion at his well-used handkerchief, and with a sigh, shoved it into his pocket.

Gregory reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two soft, white squares of cloth and placed them in Mycroft’s hand. Mycroft looked up and met Gregory’s eyes and he could see the worry and concern written in his warm, brown eyes. He accepted the handkerchiefs with a nod and with a hope that he could take them as a symbolic gesture of a truce between them.

The rest of the ride was silent, save for Mycroft’s frequent sniffles. Gregory wanted nothing more than to take the younger man into his arms, but he resolved not to give in too easily this time.

When they arrived at the townhouse, Gregory took his time getting out of the car, allowing him to walk behind Mycroft. He was glad he did, when the ill man swayed and Gregory caught him by the arm. He could feel the heat rising from his body; the ravages of fever through his suit fabric, and he shook his head, as he got them both inside.

He directed Mycroft up the stairs and into their bedroom and proceeded to silently make quick work of removing Mycroft’s many layers. He bundled him up in warm pyjamas and then got him into bed. Mycroft sank against the pillows in a fevered daze, and then with a gasping inhale sneezed harshly, grateful he hadn’t relinquished hold of the handkerchiefs that Gregory had given him.

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

“God bless you,” Gregory said, lining up the pills Mycroft needed to take.

“Thag you,” Mycroft croaked out weakly, between blows. “Apologies,” he added.

Gregory picked up the packet of antibiotics, noticing only one had been taken, the one from the previous evening. How could Mycroft care so little about his health? He wanted to punch a wall, he was so angry. Given that hadn’t worked when Anthea had contacted him earlier, he took a deep breath to calm himself, sinking down on the bed, head in his hands.

It was only then that Mycroft noticed the grazed and swollen knuckles on Gregory’s hand. He knew his fever had to be quite high if he hadn’t observed that before now. He reached over and picked up the pills Gregory had so courteously left for him, swallowing then down with the water also procured for him. It was cool and felt amazing against his raw throat. Tentatively, he reached out and put a hand on Gregory’s arm. The DI flinched for a second, but didn’t say a word.

They stayed like that for a moment, until Gregory could no longer take the silence. He removed his hands from his head and levelled his gaze at Mycroft.

“You can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep watching you do this time and time again,” Gregory implored.

Mycroft looked down at his lap. He knew he was in the wrong, but there was little he could do about it right now, given that he felt so absolutely dreadful. He sniffled wetly, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the sound.

“I am sorry,” he said finally.

You always are, Gregory thought dejectedly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Mycroft reached out for his injured hand. “Let me see. Please,” he pleaded; his voice, while strained due to illness was rife with concern for his lover.

Gregory relaxed a bit and allowed him to inspect the damage. The knuckles were starting to turn a deep purple, and the skin was cracked in places. “It is not broken, but it will swell up more if you do not put some ice on it.” Gently, he ran a thumb across the injury and then brought the hand up cautiously, pressing a kiss right below the worst of the injury.

Gregory nodded and stood up. He pulled the duvet up and around Mycroft. “Will you please try to get some rest?” He asked gently.

Mycroft nodded and curled up on his side as Gregory started toward the door. Mycroft’s hoarse voice stopped him in his tracks. “Gregory, I am sorry,” he murmured, his voice raw with emotion.

Gregory turned and gave him a sad smile. “I know you are, love,” he said wistfully before walking out the door.

221. Straw

Gregory stood in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. He ran his uninjured hand across his face and sighed. He was beside himself with worry, but short of hogtying Mycroft to the bed there was little he could do.

The kettle clicked off and he filled the two mugs that he had placed on the counter. While he waited for the tea to steep, he rummaged about in the freezer for an icepack for his hand. He found a small one and shoved it and a tea towel in his pocket so he could carry the tea upstairs more easily. He added a healthy dollop of honey to Mycroft’s mug and then headed back upstairs.

He slipped quietly into the bedroom in case Mycroft had fallen asleep. The scene he returned to was not one he was expecting. Mycroft was still curled on his side and was making soft snuffling sounds. Hearing Gregory come in, he turned further away and curled in on himself, as if he could make himself invisible.

“Myc?” Gregory said softly, concern evident in his voice.

The younger man trembled and gasped out a flurry of congested, heady sneezes.

HngxTISSSSH! HRDSCHHhhhh! Heh’hhhmmmmpTNSGHoooo! MmmmpfTISHoooo! Heh’INGTISH! INGTishooo!

“God bless you, love!” Gregory exclaimed worriedly. His anger slowly melted away as he witnessed the distress evident in his partner.

Mycroft was still trembling. He attempted to blow his nose with the handkerchief he was still clutching, but it was so damp at this point that he was disgusted. He sat up and reached for the pristine one on the bedside table and gave his nose another thorough blow. He couldn’t believe that he had been reduced to tears, but he was feeling miserable, and the strain and worry of Gregory being cross with him was the last straw.

“Thag you. My apologies,” he croaked out weakly.

Gregory set the tea down on the bedside table, and sat down next to Mycroft. His partner looked wretched and it was clear that he had been crying. He frowned, feeling guilty for feeling so angry. He knew Mycroft had to be feeling absolutely terrible if he had resorted to weeping.

Mycroft tried to turn away, but Gregory put a hand on his shoulder. He reached over for a tissue and began to dry Mycroft’s eyes with a gentle touch. Mycroft’s lip trembled at the soft caress, and he sniffed damply.

“Hey now. It’s ok, love.” His voice was soft and soothing, with no traces of anger left. Gregory wiped away the fresh tears that fell from Mycroft’s red-rimmed eyes. He then gingerly wiped at the moisture gathering at his nostrils, careful not to irritate his sensitive nose any further.

Blushing, Mycroft pulled away, sniffling again. He suddenly felt far to vulnerable and exposed. Gregory frowned, but Mycroft reached out for him and took his hand. “It was not my intention,” he began before his breath hitched wheezily and he turned his head to the side.

Heh’INGTISH! Heh’TISSSHH! Heh’INGTISHooo! Heh’IMPFTISHooo!

Mycroft let out a rather undignified moan at the end of the string of overly harsh sneezes before blowing his nose.

“God bless you, love!” Gregory said. He kicked off his shoes and moved up the bed, so he was sitting on his side of the bed next to Mycroft. Once Mycroft had finished tending to his nose, Gregory put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

Mycroft hummed into the embrace. “Thag you, my dear. My apologies once again,” he said stuffily. He shivered, and Gregory reached down and pulled the duvet up. Gregory placed a kiss on Mycroft’s temple, finding it still far too warm. He frowned again, worriedly. “Do you want your tea?” He asked.

Mycroft nodded and reached over for the mug, cradling it in his hands, savoring the warmth and then took a sip. Sighing, he looked over at his lover. “It was not my intention,” he began again, pausing for another mouthful of tea. “To be gone any longer than an hour or two at the most,” he continued. “Unfortunately, the other parties were far from agreeable,” he sniffed and rubbed at his tender nose.

Gregory suddenly felt a patch of cold on his leg, and he reached down to remove the ice pack, settling it on his injured hand. He sighed wearily. “I know what you do is important, Mycroft. But your health is far more important and I wish you could see that.” This wasn’t the first time they had this disagreement, and Gregory certainly hoped that it would be the last.

Mycroft nodded and swallowed the remains of his tea. Gregory took it from him and put it to the side. When Mycroft shivered again. Gregory eased him under the duvet, tucking it around him. He put his arm back around him, providing additional warmth. “Sleep, love,” he whispered. He began to rub his back, slow soothing circles with his good hand.

A few minutes later, Mycroft had fallen asleep, and Gregory carefully sat up. He picked up the mugs and lukewarm ice pack and brought them downstairs. He made himself a fresh cup, as he hadn’t had the chance to drink the first one before it went cold. He gathered his briefcase and carried it and his tea back upstairs.

He quickly changed into track pants and a hoodie and settled down next to the sleeping Mycroft. His partner was still far too warm; he could feel the heat radiating from him as he slept. Picking up his reading glasses from the bedside table, Gregory began to read over the case file he had brought home to review. It wasn’t too long before he dozed off as well, lulled to sleep by Mycroft’s soft, congested snores and his fevered presence.

Gregory woke with a start. It took him a moment to orient himself and he reached over for Mycroft, but the space beside him was empty.

He grumbled out a curse and sighed. As he wondered if he really was going to have to tie Mycroft to the bed, his absent partner exited the ensuite and unsteadily made his way back to bed. Feeling foolish for overreacting, he sat up and kissed Mycroft on the forehead. He was noticeably cooler, thankfully.

“How are you feeling?” Gregory asked as he moved his files to the side. He took off his reading glasses and placed them atop the files and turned back to Mycroft with a questioning look on his face.

He soon understood why Mycroft had not answered him. The younger man was caught up in a pre-sneeze loop of near inaudible breaths, handkerchief at the ready. Eyelids fluttering shut, his face went slack as he surrendered to the ravages of his cold.

Hng’ISSH! Hng’mmpftish! Hng’TISHoooo! Hehhhhhhh………INGHtighshOOO! Heh……hhhmmmmpTNSGHoooo! AhhhhTISHoooooo!

“Goodness! God bless you, love!” Gregory exclaimed. “And again and again,” he added.

“Thank you. I am feeling less feverish.” Mycroft rubbed at his ticklish nose with the handkerchief and then let out an exhausted yawn.

Gregory smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. Do you need anything?”

Sniffling, Mycroft shook his head. He reached over for Gregory’s hand and squeezed it. “Everything I need is right here,” he whispered.

[AngelEyes]

I need you to keep Mycroft from tracking my whereabouts this afternoon. –GL

Is there any particular reason that you think he does this? –A

Seriously? At any rate, I’m buying him a gift and I’d like it to be a surprise. –GL

ROTFL!

“Gregory, do you not think that perhaps I miss those types of activities?” Mycroft’s voice was soft, and a bit sad.

Oh! Sad!

Gregory was overcome with such a fierce longing; never had he felt such a tide of emotion sweeping over him. In this perfect moment, he couldn’t imagine loving anyone else. This moment that they were sharing was one of many that no one else saw; it was theirs alone. Those cherished, intimate moments in bed together. Or when Gregory had been working a case for three days straight and Mycroft brought him a coffee, their fingers ghosting over each other’s. Or when Mycroft would come home after a dismal day at work where something had gone terribly wrong and would just curl up in Gregory’s arms until he could breathe again. The simple, dear moments of just sharing a cup of tea in the evening where no words needed to be said. Those were the moments that mattered; they would be the ones he would treasure until his dying day.

So freaking sweet I might die! I love it!

Gregory Lestrade was standing against his car, one leg up against the door, arms crossed. He looked angry; his jaw was set and his eyes were tight. He looked up as he watched Mycroft walk over to the car, a look of surprise on his face.

Pissed Gregory is never good. When will you learn Mycroft?

“I am sorry,” he said finally.

You always are, Gregory thought dejectedly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Poor Gregory. It's a never-ending battle!

He quickly changed into track pants and a hoodie and settled down next to the sleeping Mycroft. His partner was still far too warm; he could feel the heat radiating from him as he slept. Picking up his reading glasses from the bedside table, Gregory began to read over the case file he had brought home to review.

So this is a totally sexy image!

[cally]

So freaking sweet I might die! I love it!

That was one of my favourite parts, in fact something I actually really felt came out close enough to how it was in my head.

I feel rather sad, now that this thread has come to an end. I can't really put it into words. . . I hope that people continue to read it, especially any new members who enjoy Sherlock.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

I know I will come back to this thread to read these over and over. I've loved these stories and can't thank you enough for writing them. I will look forward to your new thread.

[Skyler]

I'm super sad that this thread is ending, I always look forward to your drabbles, and I've read them all at least twice over now because I often reread them on days when there aren't any new ones. Thank you so much for writing them I can't wait to read your new thread!