Cally's Sherlock drabbles #2 [81/221] (28 September 2017)

[cally]

Hello again! I've decided to just stick with the general thread, rather than having two different ones. Enjoy!

1. Frost

The air was chilly with the hint of frost as Detective Inspector Lestrade left Scotland Yard. He stopped a few feet from the door, pausing to light a cigarette, most certainly not caring that he was meant to have quit again. Not today.

He moved slowly toward where his car was parked, alternating breaths of fresh air, with the nicotine hit he desperately needed. He stubbed out his cigarette as he got to his car, sniffling softly in the chilly night air.

It was always the cases with children that got to him, got under his skin, like a painful sliver that he was unable to dislodge. He briefly wondered why you needed a license to drive and to fish, but any idiot could be a parent, before sinking down into a crouch and putting his head in his hands. It didn’t take long for the tears to come.

He wasn’t sure what made him finally look up. When he did, he saw Mycroft standing a few feet away, watching, waiting. Gregory wearily stood, wiping the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand. “You didn’t have to come,” he said, sniffling damply, before he suddenly turned his head to sneeze.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHooo!

Mycroft gave him a sad smile. “I know. And God bless you,” he said, closing the distance between them. He handed him his handkerchief, which Gregory accepted with a nod. The older man wiped his eyes and blew his nose, and then shoved the damp cloth into the pocket of his coat.

Reaching out, Mycroft put a hand on Gregory’s arm. And that was all it took; Gregory pulled his lover to him and held him tight. Mycroft rubbed soothing circles on Gregory’s back, allowing him to take what he needed.


2. Damp

Gregory was shivering. Mycroft frowned, not wanting to break their embrace, but he thought getting Gregory home took priority.

Mycroft stepped back a bit, still keeping his hands on Gregory’s arms. “We should go home,” he said quietly.

Gregory nodded and reached for his keys, not realising that Mycroft had already removed them and was unlocking the doors. Gregory slipped into the passenger side and allowed Mycroft to drive them home.

Mycroft started the car and turned the heat up as high as it went; Gregory was still shivering from the cold. Slowly the interior heated up, and the DI soon found his nose running from the change in temperature. He pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose, which had the unfortunate side effect of making him sneeze. He quickly buried his nose in the increasingly damp, sodden handkerchief.

Heh’HRDSCHHhhhh! Huh’huhrahhhSHHooo!

Mycroft glanced over at him. “Good heavens! God bless you, Gregory!”

Gregory blew his nose again. “Thanks.” He leant his head back on the seat. “Sorry,” he added quietly.

“Whatever for?” Mycroft risked another look over at his partner.

“I’m sure you have better things to be doing then to listen to me sniffle,” Gregory said, his eyes shut. He was exhausted, drained from the events of the day.

“Nonsense, Gregory. I am right where I need to be.” Mycroft stopped at a red light and studied his partner. His face was lined in exhaustion and his nose was a rosy pink. Mycroft wondered if his partner was coming down with a cold. He reached over and squeezed Gregory’s hand, before the light turned green.


3. Defeated

Gregory smiled and squeezed his hand back. He fell into a slight doze until he realised that the car had stopped. He opened his eyes, blinking the sleep away. Mycroft was looking at him with a fond look on his face.

“Hi,” Gregory said with a soft smile.

“Hello,” Mycroft replied. “Shall we?”

Gregory nodded and climbed out of the car, shivering from the temperature change; the car had been warm and cosy. He paused on his way up to the door, as a violent sneeze forced its way out.

HDSCHHhhhhooo!

Mycroft frowned. “God bless you, my dear,” he said, letting them inside.

“Thags,” Gregory mumbled. He had the rather useless handkerchief pressed to his nose and gave it a half-hearted blow.

“You’re welcome, Gregory. Can I get you anything?” Mycroft hung his coat up on the rack by the door, and placed his umbrella in its customary spot. He then helped Gregory remove his coat as well.

“I just want to go to bed, Myc,” Gregory said quietly. He sounded utterly defeated.

Mycroft nodded and wordlessly led him upstairs and into their bedroom. He helped Gregory remove his clothing, and got him into a pair of warm pajamas; Gregory had begun to shiver ever so slightly again.

Gregory headed into the ensuite to washup, and Mycroft quickly removed his three-piece suit, taking care to hang up his tie, and placing his cufflinks in their drawer. He slipped into his own pajamas, and then traded places with Gregory in the ensuite.

When he came out, Gregory was turned on his side, curled up and facing away from Mycroft. The younger man’s heart ached seeing how much Gregory was hurting. He quickly slipped into bed and turned off the light.

Mycroft was unsure if there was anything he could do. Feeling Gregory tremble next to him, he quickly moved closer and put his arms around his partner and began to card his fingers gently through Gregory’s silver hair.

Gregory relaxed into the touch, moving closer, seeking the warmth of his partner. After a few moments, Mycroft spoke into the dark. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Gregory shuddered. “Not yet. I just can’t right now,” he said quietly.

“I’m here if you wish to discuss it,” Mycroft replied, continuing to run his fingers through the soft strands.

They were quiet like that for some time. Mycroft knew Gregory was still awake based on his breathing. He began to rub the tense muscles in Gregory’s neck and his lover let out a soft whimper of pleasure. Mycroft smiled.

Gregory suddenly tensed and sneezed explosively.

HuhhrahhhNGHTshhhooo! HuhhrahhhSHHhooo!

“God bless you, Gregory!” Mycroft reached over and clicked on the light so he could locate a tissue or handkerchief for his partner, which had the unfortunate side effect of causing Gregory to sneeze helplessly again as he sat up.

Huh-etcssSHHhhoo!

“God bless you again!” Mycroft grabbed the box of tissues, and pulling out a handful, placed them into Gregory’s waiting hand.

“Thag you, love,” Gregory mumbled between blows. “Sorry about that,” he added, a blush appearing on his cheeks.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mycroft said incredulously. Seeing that Gregory had rendered the tissues damp and useless, he reached over and plucked another handful and quickly switched them out for him, tossing the used ones in the small bin next to the bed.

Mycroft waited for Gregory to finish tending to his nose. “Are you feeling alright?” He asked gently. He reached up and brushed the fringe off his forehead, a soft caressing touch.

I’m ok,” Gregory said, sniffling.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, but let it go. He reached over and turned off the light, and then pulled Gregory to him. Normally, Gregory was the one who held him, but tonight he held Gregory close to him, trying to keep the inevitable nightmares at bay.


4. Yawn

Mycroft pressed the back of his hand to his mouth as he held off a yawn. He was exhausted, which was surprising, as he had an adequate amount of sleep. He had found himself close to nodding off more and more frequently as of late.

Rubbing his eyes, he opened up the next unread email in his inbox, silently cursing the idiocy of bureaucrats. If only they could be of more use, like coming up with a way to filter the pollen from the air in springtime. He would find a way to devote a significant portion of the budget into such a thing, if it ever were to be invented.

Nostrils twitching, he gave into the pair of ticklish sneezes, pressing his wrist up against his nose.

Hehhhh…….Mmmpfx! Mmmpfch!

With a sigh, he reached for a tissue and swiped at his irritated nose. Tossing it into the bin, he went on to the next email, rolling his eyes. This one was worse than the last!

There was a knock at the door, and he looked up as Gregory entered. He couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across his face.

“I brought you a cuppa, love.” Gregory smiled back, placing the cup down on the desk.

“Th-ahhhhh thank you,” Mycroft gasped out before succumbing once again.

Heh-hhhmmpftish! Mmmmpftish! Mmmmpftighx! Mmmmpftx!

“God bless you!”

“Thank you, Gregory. My apologies.” Mycroft grabbed a few tissues and blew his nose.

“Still feeling rough? Gregory asked, worry evident in his voice.

Mycroft nodded, trying to rub away the incipient tickle that had taken over. He could feel his eyes tearing as he fought against another fit of ticklish sneezes. Grabbing another handful of tissues, he turned away from Gregory.

Hehhh-hhhmmmpftish! Mmmpftish! Mmmpftinghsh! ! INGTish! INGHtighish! AhhhhTISH!

“God bless you again, love,” Gregory said, coming around to where Mycroft was sat.

Mycroft blew his nose again, wincing at the inflammation within his sinuses. “Thank you, my dear. Please do excuse me,” he said quietly.

Gregory crouched down to get a better look at his lover, and reached out to wipe away a stray allergic tear. “Your eyes are red,” he said sadly.

Mycroft nodded; he was sure that they were given how much he had been rubbing at them. He reached over and picked up his tea, taking a sip, allowing it to give him comfort, like the man who had brought it in for him.

Gregory reached out and squeezed his arm. “Can I get you anything else?”

Mycroft put his hand on Gregory’s. “No, thank you, dearest,” he said with a sniff.

Gregory stood up from his crouch, relieved that his knees hadn’t cracked. He smiled at his partner fondly and wished that there was something more he could do to alleviate Mycroft’s suffering.

He bent down and pressed a quick kiss to the top of Mycroft’s head. “I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if I can get you anything at all, love.”

Mycroft smiled at Gregory again, and feeling touched for his concern, went back to his work with a slightly better disposition.

[matilda3948]

Oh, I love when sad, sick Greg gets some TLC.

[AngelEyes]

Yay for Thread #2! These were lovely and sweet and made me happy. I'd love to say more but I'm a bit drunk and probably wouldn't make much sense. Especially as what I'm actually feeling about them can be summed up as laksjdcfneioquwbvcaqv. I adore you, oh light of my life!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Cally started thread #2 and there was much rejoicing! I love how your short fics leave us a little on edge. Is Greg coming down with a cold or is he just sneezy from being weepy? Is there something more making Mycroft tired besides his allergies? It's like a soap opera.

[Skyler]

Yay! I've had my eyes peeled for this thread over the last few days and was over the moon to see it Aww, poor Gregory and Mycroft both!

[AngelEyes]

It's like a soap opera.

I love it! So true!

[cally]

Oh, I love when sad, sick Greg gets some TLC.

I am so glad you enjoyed. I have enjoyed reversing the roles a bit; I think I had been inflicting too much misery on Mycroft lately.

Yay for Thread #2! These were lovely and sweet and made me happy. I'd love to say more but I'm a bit drunk and probably wouldn't make much sense. Especially as what I'm actually feeling about them can be summed up as laksjdcfneioquwbvcaqv. I adore you, oh light of my life!

You are too sweet and kind!

Cally started thread #2 and there was much rejoicing! I love how your short fics leave us a little on edge. Is Greg coming down with a cold or is he just sneezy from being weepy? Is there something more making Mycroft tired besides his allergies? It's like a soap opera.

We may never know too. I may come back to these, but as my mind is all over the place lately, I can't guarantee anything!

That's funny that you made the soap opera comment b/c people used to say to my younger self that my life was like a soap opera (perhaps I'm a bit of a drama queen like some consulting detectives perhaps? ) and I am fairly sure in my old age that I have not become any less dramatic!

Yay! I've had my eyes peeled for this thread over the last few days and was over the moon to see it Aww, poor Gregory and Mycroft both!

I am very glad you continue to enjoy!

These next 2 are stand-alone and may be continued too, again, no idea. I just sort of had the idea for it and went with it.

5. brilliant deduction

Detective Inspector Lestrade grabbed a tissue from the box on his desk and blew his nose. He bent down to toss it in the bin, and when he looked back up, the formidable form of Mycroft Holmes was standing in his office.

Lestrade sighed wearily. “Whatever it is, can it wait? I was just about to go home,” he said, his voice thick with congestion.

Mycroft studied him for a moment. “You are unwell,” he said finally.

Lestrade rolled his eyes. “Brilliant deduction that. Can’t get a thing past you Holmes brothers,” he quipped.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. So, he had seen Sherlock today. That explained the exasperation, he thought. “I merely wished to check up on my brother, Gregory.”

“Your brother is a pain in the arse, but he’s not using, if that’s what you want to know,” he managed to get out before succumbing to a brief bout of coughing. He felt miserable and wanted nothing more than his bed. He stood up from his desk and pulled his coat on. “Now, if there’s nothing else, I’d like to go home and get some sleep.”

Mycroft nodded, tapping his umbrella on the ground. “Can I offer you a ride?”

“Yeah, go on then,” Lestrade said. It would certainly beat the Tube at this hour.

Mycroft nodded again, and the two made their way out of Lestrade’s office and out of the Yard. As they walked over to the waiting towncar, Lestrade gave a strangled breath and sneezed harshly.

HuhhrahhhSHHhooo!

He quickly scrabbled in his coat pocket, pulling out a well-used tissue and blowing his nose. “’Scuse me,” he muttered, blushing.

Mycroft tutted. “God bless you.” He removed a soft looking handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over to the ailing detective inspector. “Here, please,” he offered.

“Thanks,” Gregory said hoarsely. He took the extravagantly supple cloth, his fingers brushing against Mycroft’s accidentally. He wasn’t sure if it was a hallucination brought on by the cold he was suffering from, but he was sure there was a spark as their fingers touched.

6. Pickpocket

The two got into the waiting car, and once they were settled Lestrade blew his nose, wincing at the congestion and sinus pressure present. Shoving the cloth into the pocket of his coat, he shook his head, trying to clear it. “Sorry,” he said quietly.

Mycroft waved a well-manicured hand. “Think nothing of it.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Gregory couldn’t take it any longer. “Your brother is a git,” he said.

Mycroft was not expecting that and he burst out laughing. Gregory smiled at the outburst; it was the nicest sound he had heard all day.

“What has he done now?” Mycroft asked, a smile still playing about his lips.

“A bit of breaking and entering, pickpocketing me and stealing my warrant card, removing body parts from Bart’s; what hasn’t he done recently?” Gregory chuckled. He really was very fond of Sherlock, but he had tried his patience recently.

Mycroft rolled his eyes in exasperation. He really didn’t understand how he and his brother had turned out so differently. “I am sorry about him, Gregory. I do apologize. You will continue to work with him, will you not?”

Gregory gave him an incredulous look. “Of course I will. He’s a right pain, but he’s a brill—ahh hehh brilliant one,” Gregory said quickly, his breath coming in short, hitching pants before he succumbed to a rather nasty sounding sneeze.

Heh’HRDSCHHhhhh!

He had ducked his head down into a loose fist and then quickly scrambled for the handkerchief, while Mycroft looked on, a concerned look pinching his brow.

“Goodness! God bless you, Gregory!” He had to keep from reaching out and putting his hand on the inspectors arm. He wasn’t sure what had come over him; offering comfort was completely out of his purview. He had something of a secret infatuation for Gregory, and had for some time. He had never acted on it because he was, well himself, and he figured his advances wouldn’t be welcome. He was questioning that, when Gregory met his eyes, an embarrassed look on his face.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’m sorry,” he added in a much quieter voice, not meeting Mycroft’s gaze.

“Whatever for? You are unwell.” Mycroft spoke matter-of-factly.

Gregory was beginning to think he must have a high fever if the impeccable and proper Mycroft Holmes wasn’t worried about propriety or common courtesy.

So lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t realised that they had arrived outside his flat. He blinked dimly and allowed himself to be led out of the car and to the door. Mycroft had deftly removed his keys from his coat and was unlocking his door before he knew it.

A hand on his back, Mycroft steered him inside and helped him remove his coat, and sat him down on the couch. He heard the sounds of tea making; the kettle heating up, cupboards and mugs being placed on the counter.

Dazed, he was unable to break from the fog he was in, barely cognisant of the prickling within his nose that swiftly developed into a pair of harsh sneezes.

HuhhrahhhSHHhhh! HhhhhuhhraGHNTshhhoo!

He barely had time to cover his mouth and nose, and he sniffled wetly in the aftermath, wishing he had a tissue, or wishing he had the forethought to grab the handkerchief Mycroft had given him out of his coat. Seconds later, Mycroft was there, pressing a handful of tissues into his hand and placing the box on the table in front of him.

“God bless you, Gregory,” he said quietly. He returned to the kitchen, allowing Gregory a moment to compose himself while he finished making them each a cup of tea.

“Thank you, Mycroft. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” Gregory said when Mycroft brought in the tea.

“Nonsense. It is clear that you are rather ill. It is the least I could do,” Mycroft replied. He stared pointedly at his tea. It was the least he could do, after everything the inspector had done for Sherlock in the past; for everything he DID for Sherlock, really.

Gregory picked up his mug, his large hands cradling it, absorbing its warmth. The rising began to make his nose tickle and run, and he quickly put the mug down and grabbed a fresh handful of tissues.

HuhhrahhhSHHhooo! Ahhhshooo!

“God bless . . .” Mycroft began but was cut off by anther one of Gregory’s punishing sneezes.

Heh-hhh-HuhhrakSHHhooo!

“God bless you!” Mycroft frowned. He didn’t frequently find himself in a caregiving role and was rather unsure what else he could offer besides platitudes.

“Thags,” Gregory said in between blows. He felt weary, weak, and exhausted. When he was finished tending to his nose, he sank back against the back of the couch and sighed.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Mycroft asked.

Gregory shook his head. “You’ve done more than enough,” he said, picking up his tea and taking a sip. “I just need to take some cold medicine and sleep. I’m sure I’ll be fine in the morning,” he added, his voice thick and heady with congestion.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at the last remark, but let it go. He quickly finished his tea and seeing Gregory was practically asleep, he took his mug from him, their fingers brushing again. The spark from earlier reappeared, and Gregory looked up at the younger man. Mycroft looked away and quickly headed into the kitchen with the mugs and quickly washed them out.

Gregory watched, fuzzy headed, and finally managed to get to his feet as Mycroft came back in. “Please let me know if you require anything at all, Gregory. Sleep well,” he said, heading toward the door.

“Mycroft,” Gregory croaked out.

Mycroft turned to look at him but Gregory couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“Thank you, really,” Gregory whispered.

Mycroft merely smiled. “Good evening,” he said, and slipped out the door.

Gregory stood there for a moment, wondering what exactly had happened. He finally dragged himself down the hall to his bed.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Sparks!!! See it's that soap opera thing again. Leaving us wanting more. (Even when we know how you want this to end. ) It's why we keep coming back to your threads.

[stargazer]

You are slowly turning me into a Mystrade fan. Two sparks. Ah love. I always love the drabbles that take place right at the beginning of their relationship.

[cally]

Sparks!!! See it's that soap opera thing again. Leaving us wanting more. (Even when we know how you want this to end. ) It's why we keep coming back to your threads.

You've caught me out!

You are slowly turning me into a Mystrade fan. Two sparks. Ah love. I always love the drabbles that take place right at the beginning of their relationship.

It's my goal to get everyone on the Mystrade bandwagon! I like writing about early bits, because there's a lot to work with there. I mean, I know I can pretty much take them anywhere (within reason) but I tend to stick to things that I think I do well.

7. Keening

(Continuation of #3)

Mycroft awoke, immediately alert. Gregory was keening; a terrible sound that broke the younger man’s heart. He reached out for his partner, gently at first, placing a hand on Gregory’s too warm back. Mycroft frowned, dealing with an ill Gregory was one thing, but a distraught and unwell Gregory, well that was both alarming and disconcerting, he thought.

He began to rub slow, small circles until Gregory’s breath finally evened out; at least Mycroft thought it had. Gregory suddenly gasped, sneezing explosively; the cause of the additional uneven inhalations.

Heh’HRDSCHHhhhhooo!

“God bless you,” Mycroft murmured into the dark, as he continued to gently caress his lover’s back.

“Thanks,” Gregory whispered, sniffling wetly once, then twice. “Myc?” He asked softly, his quiet voice slightly nasal.

“Mmmm?” Mycroft murmured, until it occurred to him what Gregory might be asking of him. “Of course. Here, my dear,” he said, having reached over for a handful of tissues and placed them close to his partner’s hand.

Gregory half sat up so he could blow his nose. When he was done, he balled them up, and half tossed them on to the nightstand, and slipped back into Mycroft’s embrace.

Mycroft pulled Gregory close and rubbed his arm softly, not wanting to overwhelm him in any way. He wished that his lover would talk to him about how he was feeling. He had deduced a great deal, of course, but there were still many questions left unanswered. The first of which was why was he so affected by these kinds of cases. He had long thought of going through Gregory’s file again, but felt it wrong, now that they were in a serious relationship. Mycroft was so deep in thought; he didn’t notice Gregory’s soft, hitching breaths until the older man was succumbing to a pair of shuddering, violent sneezes.

Heh-hhh-HuhhrakSHHhooo! Huh’huhrahhhSHHooo!

“Goodness! God bless you, Gregory!” Mycroft said worriedly. He sat up and grabbed a handful of tissues, and handed them to Gregory, who had also sat up, one hand pressed to his nose.

“Thanks,” Gregory mumbled softly, after tending to his now rather tender nose. He rubbed his temples and sighed.

“You’re welcome,” Mycroft replied, this time having the forethought to place the tissue box on Gregory’s nightstand. In the faint light that seeped in around the curtains, Mycroft could see the tightness around Gregory’s eyes; a clear indication the older man had a headache.

“Do you need anything?” Mycroft asked, concerned.

Gregory shrugged. He wasn’t one for taking medicine unless it was absolutely necessary.

“My dear, it is clear that you are not feeling well. At the very least, please let me get you something for your headache,” Mycroft said gently.

Gregory finally nodded, running a hand over his face.

Mycroft quickly slipped out of bed and returned a moment later with two pills and a glass of water.

Gregory gave him a weak smile in thanks and swallowed the pills down. He drained the glass of water and set it on the nightstand, as Mycroft re-joined him in bed.

They resumed their previous position, with Mycroft spooning Gregory, and comforting him with soft, gentle caresses. After a few quiet moments, Gregory shifted slightly, and placed a gentle kiss on Mycroft’s hand. Mycroft smiled in the dark at the tender moment as they fell asleep again, each lulled by the other’s heartbeat.

[stargazer]

Aw...I just want to give Greg a big hug.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Oh see, one burning question answered... Is Greg ill? Yes. Now replaced with... Why is Greg so upset by this case? And so we continue to be lead on by Cally's drabbles.

I can't wait to read more!

[cally]

Aw...I just want to give Greg a big hug.

I know. Same. All. The. Time.

Oh see, one burning question answered... Is Greg ill? Yes. Now replaced with... Why is Greg so upset by this case? And so we continue to be lead on by Cally's drabbles.

I can't wait to read more!

Ok, one of these questions have now been answered. The other, well, we shall see. (not really intentional of course)

8. Alone

When Mycroft woke up the following morning he was alone; Gregory’s side of the bed was cool. He frowned, wondering where his lover was. He sat up, and ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. He looked over in the direction of the ensuite, but the door was open and the light was off.

It was still rather early, and he did not think that Gregory would have already gone into work, unless he had been called in, and he certainly would have woken if that had occurred. He rose out of bed and reached for his dressing gown with a heavy sigh. As he crossed the room, he paused to direct a quartet of stifled sneezes into his wrist, inwardly cursing his hayfever.

Mmmmpftish! Mmmmpftighx! Mmmmpftx! Mmmmmpfch!

With a damp sniffle, he opened the bedroom door and headed down the hall, stopping abruptly when he found Gregory sitting on the top stair, wrapped in his robe, head in his hands. Mycroft sat down next to him and put a comforting hand on his lover’s shoulder.

Gregory looked up at Mycroft, eyes shiny with tears. Mycroft gasped, shocked at his appearance. “Gregory, please talk to me,” he pleaded quietly before he was forced to turn his head and stifle a pair of sneezes into the sleeve of his dressing down, momentarily annoyed with himself for not grabbing a tissue.

Mmmmpftx! Mmmmmpfch!

“G’bless,” Gregory mumbled, his voice thick with congestion. Mycroft was unsure if it was from illness or crying.

“Thank you, my dear. Please, come back to bed.” Mycroft stood and held out his hand.

Gregory sniffled wetly, rubbing his nose on the sleeve of his thick robe as he stood. He took Mycroft’s hand and allowed the younger man to lead him back to bed.

When they were settled back beneath the duvet, Gregory reached over for the tissues, grabbed a handful and blew his utterly stuffed up nose. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“Please think nothing of it, dearest,” Mycroft said. He paused a moment and considered his next words. “Gregory, I understand that whatever this is, is difficult for you, but I do think you will feel better if you share the burden,” he added quietly, reaching over to squeeze Gregory’s hand.

Gregory nodded, looking down at his lap. Mycroft sensed that this would be easier on his partner if he could do it in his own way, so, he moved so he was sitting behind Gregory, allowing the older man to face away from him. He cradled Gregory allowing him to settle between his legs, and he put an arm around him, giving him as much comfort as he could.

Gregory began to speak quietly about the first case he had as a DI; two young children brutally tortured and murdered by their parents. He trembled and shook as he shared the details of the gory crime scene, and the parents who had seemed so distraught at first. He was explaining how the facts hadn’t added up, and how he had finally pieced together the truth, when he paused to sneeze abrasively into a loose fist.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHooo!

“God bless you,” Mycroft said quietly.

Gregory cleared his throat. “Thanks,” he replied, grabbing a few tissues and swiping at his nose. He balled them up, and dabbing at his nostrils, he continued his story.

Mycroft listened attentively, allowing the story, which he remember hearing about at the time (but had not paid much attention to, to be honest), to be told, filling in the gaps that he had already deduced. He gave a delicate sniff, trying to ward the last of the tickle away as he didn’t want to interrupt Gregory as he spoke. He finally was unable to keep the irritation from building, and with a soft inhale, quickly directed the pair of rather ticklish sneezes into his shoulder.

Hehhh-hhhmmmpftish! Ahhhhhtish!

Gregory paused, looking back at Mycroft. “God bless you, love,” he said quietly. He frowned at Mycroft’s appearance. The younger man’s eyes were filled with allergic tears, making them seem more blue than usual. “You haven’t taken your pill yet, have you?” He asked gently.

Mycroft shook his head in the negative before reaching across Gregory to grab a tissue. He dabbed at his eyes and then gave his nose a quick blow. “This is far more important, Gregory,” he said.

Gregory snorted. “It will take thirty seconds,” he said as he climbed out of bed. He returned seconds later with a small pill and a glass of water. “There’s no reason for you to suffer, love.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes, but accepted the pill and water nevertheless. “Thank you, Gregory,” he said.

“You’re welcome. Besides, there’s not much more to the story, well nothing that you probably haven’t already figured out at any rate.” Gregory sat back down on the bed next to Mycroft, taking his hand and caressing it.

“This first case is what gives you the nightmares. It normally does not register until you are faced with details of a case that remind you of it in some way, or when the case deals with children,” Mycroft said matter-of-factly.

Gregory chuckled. “That’s the gist of it, yeah.” He paused, taking a breath. “Cases with children are the hardest, you know? It’s heartbreaking,” he said softly.

Mycroft squeezed his hand tight. “Thank you for telling me all of this. I know it was not easy for you.”

Gregory nodded. It was far easier to keep it locked inside. And besides, before Mycroft, whom was he going to share it with? Anderson? Not too bloody likely, he though as he sniffed, rubbing his nose with the balled up tissues he was still holding.

[AngelEyes]

Mycroft studied him for a moment. “You are unwell,” he said finally.

Lestrade rolled his eyes. “Brilliant deduction that. Can’t get a thing past you Holmes brothers,” he quipped.

LOL, snarky Greg!

Mycroft rolled his eyes in exasperation. He really didn’t understand how he and his brother had turned out so differently.

Too true. Although I think they are more alike than either would admit.

“God bless . . .” Mycroft began but was cut off by anther one of Gregory’s punishing sneezes.

Heh-hhh-HuhhrakSHHhooo!

I love blessings cut off by not quite finished fits!

Mycroft comforting Gregory. Awwww!

The younger man’s eyes were filled with allergic tears, making them seem more blue than usual.

Beautiful image.

And besides, before Mycroft, whom was he going to share it with? Anderson? Not too bloody likely, he though as he sniffed, rubbing his nose with the balled up tissues he was still holding.

LOL!!!

[cally]

I love blessings cut off by not quite finished fits!

Same.

9. Lavender

a continuation of #6, a few weeks later

It was late, and Lestrade was still sat at his desk, dealing with what seemed to be never ending paperwork. He sighed and put his head in his hands, willing himself not to doze off.

He was not sure how long he actually did nod off, but the sound of a soft, refined sneeze had him startling into consciousness. Mycroft Holmes was standing there in his doorway, looking embarrassed, a long, pale hand covering his nose.

Mycroft had slipped silently into Gregory’s office, finding the older man with his head in his hands, fast asleep. He allowed himself a rare smile at the sight as he quietly looked on. He stood there a moment, wondering whether or not he should wake the sleeping inspector, when his nose prickled alarmingly. He did tire of spring, he briefly thought as he prepared to stifle what he hoped would be a singular occurrence. Unfortunately, it was a bit more audible than he would have liked.

Mmmmmpfch!

Gregory sat there a moment, blinking the slight vestiges of sleep from his eyes.

“Please do excuse me,” Mycroft said quietly, rubbing his traitorous nose. “I did not mean to disturb you, quite like that anyway.”

Gregory gaped and blinked again. “Right,” he said, clearing his throat as Mycroft moved further into his office, until he was standing in front of his desk.

Finally cognizant, Gregory looked up at the British government. “What can I do for you?” He asked, gesturing to the chair.

Mycroft gave him a brief nod and sat down as indicated. “I merely wished to check-in, so to speak,” he said, with a barely audible sniff. He focused; it would not do for him to lose control at this juncture. He was aware that it was late, and he was long due for his medication, but that didn’t mean he had to go sniffling and sneezing all over the place.

“It’s been pretty quiet, actually. Well, for Sherlock, not for me. The last few cases I offered, he said were less than a four, and couldn’t be bothered,” Gregory said with a tired chuckle.

Mycroft lips twitched in something that was close enough to a smile, and another odd expression flitted across his features, one that Gregory couldn’t quite get a handle on.

“I do apologise for his . . . arrogance.” Mycroft paused again, resigned to his fate, and sneezed again.

Mmmmpftx!

Gregory looked at him in surprise. “God bless you,” he said.

“Thank you. My apologies, Gregory,” Mycroft said with a faint sniff.

Gregory pushed the tissue box on his desk toward Mycroft. “Are you sick?” He asked gently.

Mycroft gave a brief nod at the gesture and plucked a tissue from the box. He dabbed at his nose a moment before replying. “I assure you I am quite well.”

Gregory raised an eyebrow, not quite believing him.

“It is a minor seasonal irritation, nothing more.” Mycroft said.

Gregory snorted. He didn’t believe Mycroft in the slightest, but knew that the younger man was reluctant to share much about his life, even after all the time they had known each other.

This time, Mycroft raised an eyebrow and resisted the urge to rub at his irritated eyes as Gregory stretched and yawned.

“Sorry,” Gregory said.

“Nonsense, it is late,” Mycroft considered.

“It’s not that late,” Gregory countered, a thoughtful look on his face.

Mycroft pursed his lips and thought for a moment. Nonsense, he thought. Gregory wouldn’t want to spend time with me.

Gregory studied Mycroft for a second, and then decided to throw caution to the wind. “Would you like to go for a drink?”

Mycroft blinked and then blinked again. Gregory thought he looked very much like his younger brother in that moment.

Mycroft almost did not believe his ears. It took him a moment to come back to himself and then nodded. “I would like that,” he said, and then paused, thoughtful. “Would you mind terribly if the drink was at my residence?” He absently rubbed at his eye again.

“No, of course not,” Gregory said. He knew that Mycroft had been downplaying his “seasonal irritation.”

They both stood, and Gregory grabbed his coat before they made their way to the door. As usual, one of Mycroft’s cars was at the ready, and they were driven away in the cool, spring evening.

The ride was quiet, only punctuated by an occasional sniffle from the younger man. Gregory gave him a fond look, hoping that Mycroft was not suffering too much.

Mycroft was very close to losing the battle with his duplicitous nose. He sniffled again, softly, trying to retain what modicum of control he had. He finally reached up to rub his nose, which had the unfortunate effect of setting him off, rather than keeping the sneezes from occurring.

He gave a quiet gasping inhale and quickly cupped his hands over his nose, turning his body away from Gregory.

Mmmmpftish! Mmmmpftighx! Mmmmpftx! Mmmmmpfch!

“Christ! God bless you, Mycroft!” Gregory said, wishing he had something else to offer instead of a polite platitude.

Mycroft pulled a tissue from his pocket and dabbed at his sensitive nostrils. “Thank you, Gregory. Again, my apologies,” he said as the car slowed to a stop. “Shall we?” He asked, opening the door.

Mycroft led Gregory inside his townhouse, pausing to hang his coat up on the coatrack, and placed his umbrella in its stand by the door. “May I take your coat?”

“Oh, thanks,” Gregory said, slipping his coat off and handing it to Mycroft.

Gregory stepped further inside, looking at the dark paneled wood and lush carpeting. He was impressed, obviously. It wasn’t ostentatious, it was just very Mycroft, and he found the entire atmosphere welcoming rather than off-putting.

Mycroft read all of that on Gregory’s open, expressive face, and smiled as he led Gregory into the kitchen. “Would you like some tea?” He asked. “Or would you prefer something a bit stronger?”

Gregory grinned. “Tea is fine. Cheers,” he said, as he began to look around the room. The kitchen had stainless steel goods and a bright, cheerful blue was used as an accent colour; it was all very comfortable and homey, and Gregory realised he was getting far ahead of himself.

Mycroft had put the kettle on, and had pulled out a teapot and its matching cups and saucers. While he waited for the kettle to come to a boil, he watched Gregory, a faint smile on his lips.

Gregory came over to join Mycroft as the kettle boiled, and watched as Mycroft skillfully poured the water into the teapot. A fragrant steamy, scent of lavender and bergamot filled the air, and Gregory felt the combined scent and steam rise into his nostrils. His breath immediately began to hitch, and he whirled away from the counter as the violent sneeze shuddered through his body.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHooooo!

He immediately felt dampness, and was extremely grateful he had had a warning and had managed to cup his hands around his nose and mouth. He could feel Mycroft’s eyes on him, and he reddened, embarrassed.

“God bless you, Gregory,” Mycroft said quietly, his normally neutral voice filled with concern. He had come to stand next to him, and laid a hand gently on his back. His other hand was holding out a handkerchief, which Gregory quickly grabbed and pressed to his nose.

He gave his nose several harsh blows, finally feeling the remnants of the cold he had a few weeks ago shifting out of his sinuses. “Excuse me. Sorry,” Gregory murmured finally, embarrassed, as he wiped at his nose.

“Are you alright?” Mycroft asked, his voice soothing.

Gregory blushed again and nodded, shoving the cloth into the pocket of his trousers. He would have to remember to get both handkerchiefs back to Mycroft. He walked over to the sink and washed his hands. “Yeah, thank you. Sometimes lavender has a tendency to set me off. But on a good note, I can breathe clearly for the first time since I had that cold,” he said.

Mycroft filed all of that away in his memory; he would make sure he wouldn’t serve this particular Earl Grey again. “Would you like me to make a different tea?”

“Oh, no. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he said.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow but began to pour the tea nevertheless.

Once they were both settled with their cups, and Mycroft was certain Gregory wasn’t about to have an allergic reaction, he led him through to his study.

Gregory’s face widened with a broad grin as they walked in. The wood was dark and comforting, and the walls were lined with endless bookshelves and a large fireplace. There were two dark leather sofas that looked inviting rather than uncomfortable, and Gregory sat down on one, as he took everything in.

“This room is fantastic!” He said, smiling broadly.

Mycroft blushed slightly. He wasn’t used to such enthusiasm, and took a sip of tea to cover his surprise.

“Thank you. I find this room very relaxing,” Mycroft said, a small sniffle punctuating his sentence. He paused to rub his itchy eye again, hoping it hadn’t become reddened. “When I am home I spend most of my time in here,” he added.

“I can’t say I blame you,” Gregory said, sipping his tea. He looked over at Mycroft, who had joined him on the couch and saw he was rubbing at his nose.

Mycroft gave an irritated sigh. He probably should have gone to fetch an antihistamine before settling down, he thought, as his nostrils prickled and flared. He quickly turned away from Gregory again, breath hitching erratically as he gave into a fitful quartet.

Hehhh-hhhmmmpftish! Mmmpftish! Mmmpftinghsh! ! INGTish!

“God bless you,” Gregory said, his voice low. He put a hand on Mycroft’s shoulder, offering comfort. He suddenly wished Mycroft hadn't offered his handkerchief to him; he clearly needed it.

Mycroft didn’t move for a moment. He felt Gregory’s hand, warm on his shoulder, and he was wondering exactly how he ended up in his position. He took a breath, and then reached for a tissue from the box on the coffee table.

Gregory pulled his hand away then, and Mycroft suddenly felt cold. He quickly dabbed at his nose. “Thank you. Please do excuse me,” he murmured, picking up his cup and taking a sip of tea to cover his unease.

Gregory could see Mycroft was uncomfortable. “Are you sure you’re ok? Do you need me to get you anything?” He wasn’t sure if the younger man would welcome more comfort, but he longed to reach out for him. So, Gregory gently put a hand on Mycroft’s arm and squeezed.

Mycroft felt the heat return to his body as Gregory touched him and he had to keep from gasping in surprise. He put his teacup down and turned so he was facing the inspector.

Gregory’s pupils were blown wide, and there was a look of fondness and wonder across his face that Mycroft wasn’t sure he quite understood. Gregory squeezed his arm again, and brought his hand to cup his cheek.

Mycroft felt like he was being burned, but he couldn’t pull away from the touch. He instinctively leaned into it, his own hand finding Gregory’s thigh.

The next thing he knew, Gregory was pulling him closer. Their lips met in a chaste kiss that left Mycroft feeling like someone had just pulled the curtains back on a bright and sunny day. Every nerve ending was singing and on fire at the same time, and he reached for Gregory, this time for a far less modest kiss that left them both breathless and wanting more.

[AngelEyes]

Oh Gods! That was so good!

“Please do excuse me,” Mycroft said quietly, rubbing his traitorous nose. “I did not mean to disturb you, quite like that anyway.”

LOL, won't be the last time!

Mycroft blinked and then blinked again. Gregory thought he looked very much like his younger brother in that moment.

Awww!

I love your descriptions of Mycroft's place. It's perfect. Warm and home-y. I also have to tell you your head canon has infiltrated my brain into my daily life. Now whenever I put my sunglasses on as I'm going outside I think of Greg. LOL

[cally]

I love your descriptions of Mycroft's place. It's perfect. Warm and home-y. I also have to tell you your head canon has infiltrated my brain into my daily life. Now whenever I put my sunglasses on as I'm going outside I think of Greg. LOL

I do the same thing!

Ok, this one came out completely NOT the way I had hoped. When I "write" them in my head, it sounded so much better than this ended up. Oh well. Can't win 'em all.

10. Makeup

The next day dawned bright and sunny and with a dead body at a crime scene for Lestrade. He was in a great mood, so he even called Sherlock in to help. Twenty minutes later, Sherlock arrived with a swirl of his Belstaff and John tagging along behind him.

Ignoring Lestrade, he immediately began to inspect the crime scene, picking up all the minute details the Yard had obviously missed. John pulled on a pair of gloves and began to examine the body.

Lestrade directed the SOCOs and made some notes while he waited for Sherlock’s verdict. He was surprised when he heard the unmistakable sounds of clipped footsteps behind him. He turned, and found Mycroft standing there with an unreadable expression, leaning on his umbrella.

Sherlock also noticed the arrival of his brother and rolled his eyes. He glanced at Mycroft taking in everything about his appearance in a matter of seconds. Four hours sleep, so a late night then. New suit; he has lost over a stone in the past two months. Worrying, Sherlock thought briefly. Meeting today with the PM. Boring. Oh! Interesting. Mycroft’s eyes were irritated, but his nose was seemingly unscathed. Oh! It’s Christmas! Mycroft was wearing makeup!

Sherlock was about to announce this to all and sundry when he noticed a small purple mark on Mycroft’s neck. He must have cut himself shaving, he thought. Then, he noticed that there was no blood on his collar. Oh. Oh no, Sherlock thought, as he watched Lestrade walk over toward his brother.

Lestrade had been standing in a shaded area, and smiling, he walked over to where Mycroft was. As he crossed into the sunshine, he stopped in his tracks and gasped out a harsh sneeze into a quickly formed loose fist.

Heh’HRDSCHHhhhhooo!

Mycroft regarded him in surprise. Interesting. Gregory has a photic response, he thought, as he committed that fact to memory.

“God bless you, Gregory. Are you alright?” Mycroft asked, taking a step closer to the inspector.

Gregory looked momentarily dazed. Sniffling, he swiped at his nose for a second. “Thanks,” he said. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he added as he gave an approving eye over Mycroft’s appearance, blushing a bit when he saw that a bit of the love bite he had given was visible on Mycroft’s neck.

Lestrade rubbed the back of his neck, cringing. “Sorry about that,” he whispered.

“I assure you, Gregory, I absolutely do not mind,” Mycroft said softly, smiling.

Gregory grinned back and he had to keep from reaching out and squeezing Mycroft’s hand. He tilted his head back, trying to figure out what was different about the younger man.

Mycroft tightened his grip on the handle of his umbrella. He could see that Gregory was scrutinizing him and he hoped he didn’t notice the hint of concealer he had used that morning.

“Are you ok?” Gregory asked. “Your eyes are really red.”

Mycroft breathed a sigh of relief. He normally didn’t employ such strategies to deal with the seasonal malady, but he was due to meet with the Prime Minster today and could not afford any sign of weakness. It was a hardship as it was to stand outside with the pollen count the way it was, but he felt it was imperative that he see Gregory this morning.

“I am quite well, thank you,” he said, running his index finger under his long nose briefly.

Gregory wasn’t sure he believed Mycroft, and was about to make that abundantly clear, but at that moment Sherlock decided he was done being patient.

“Do you care about the victim, Lestrade, or are you planning to stand around making faces at my brother all morning?” Sherlock glared daggers at his brother, making his displeasure of this situation very clear.

“Sherlock!” Mycroft exclaimed.

Sherlock pulled a face at him. “Or I could just,” he began, but Mycroft cut him off with a sharp look.

Gregory looked between the two of them, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I shall leave you to it then Gregory. Sherlock.” he said, and swinging his umbrella, he strolled away.

“Why did he call you Gregory?” Sherlock spat.

Lestrade stared at Sherlock, a look of utter disbelief on his face.

“Sherlock! How many times do I have to tell you, that’s his name!” John said, exasperated, having finally come over to see what was going on.

Annoyed at Sherlock, Lestrade ignored him and strode off to see what was happening with the crime scene.

John was about to follow, when Sherlock grabbed his arm, and began to speak in a low voice close to John’s ear, gesticulating wildly. A moment later, John was bent over, laughing hysterically, tears streaming down his face. “Makeup,” he managed to gasp out before laughing again. This of course, had Sherlock dissolving into another fit of giggles.

By the time Lestrade came back over to them, they had managed to somewhat pull themselves together, but couldn’t keep little giggles from escaping. Lestrade glared at them. “What have I told you two about giggling at crime scenes?”

“Oh Lestrade. As ever you see, but do not observe,” Sherlock said, trying not to laugh.

“Well enough about me. How about telling me what you observed from my crime scene?”

“Well, I can definitely tell you the victim is not wearing any makeup,” Sherlock quipped.

Beside him, John burst into a fit of giggles again.

Lestrade merely shook his head.

[AngelEyes]

Hysterical! I love it.

Oh! It’s Christmas! Mycroft was wearing makeup!

LOL!!! The boys giggling at the crime scene. Too funny! This highly brightened a truly awful night. Thanks for that!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

I'm not sure what you didn't like about this fic, because I think it is great. First, your characterization of Sherlock and his inner monologue with his deductions is funny and fabulous. Second, Mycroft wanting to see Greg to check on him and to make sure the concealer wasn't noticible to the "average" human. Because Greg knows Mycroft better than anyone, save Sherlock, and if he didn't notice, then neither will the PM. Third, though Mycroft is clearly suffering from his allergies, we don't get any sneezes from him. Instead it it is Greg's photic sneezing we are gifted. A nice twist I think.

[cally]

LOL!!! The boys giggling at the crime scene. Too funny! This highly brightened a truly awful night. Thanks for that!

I am glad it was enjoyed and that it brightened your evening.

I'm not sure what you didn't like about this fic, because I think it is great. First, your characterization of Sherlock and his inner monologue with his deductions is funny and fabulous. Second, Mycroft wanting to see Greg to check on him and to make sure the concealer wasn't noticible to the "average" human. Because Greg knows Mycroft better than anyone, save Sherlock, and if he didn't notice, then neither will the PM. Third, though Mycroft is clearly suffering from his allergies, we don't get any sneezes from him. Instead it it is Greg's photic sneezing we are gifted. A nice twist I think.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

And thank you for the idea for this one. How I had never thought of this, I will never know.

11. Bouquet

Gregory and Mycroft hadn’t been dating long, but the two were clearly smitten with each other. Late dinners turned into long nights spent in front of the fire at Mycroft’s townhouse. And when there wasn’t time for dinner, quickly shared coffees in the afternoon (always with the promise of something more) kept Gregory warm while he dealt with damp and miserable crime scenes.

Mycroft had been away for a few days, but had assured the inspector he would still be available for dinner that evening at his residence. Gregory was excited, anticipating a quiet and enjoyable evening as well as an excellent bottle of wine. Wanting to show his appreciation, and his growing fondness for Mycroft, he stopped on his way to see the younger man to pick up a small gift.

Pleased with his purchase, Gregory drove to the townhouse and made his way up the stairs with a spring in his step, and rang the doorbell. The purchase hidden behind his back, he grinned as he heard footsteps approaching, and Mycroft finally opened the door.

“Good evening, Gregory,” Mycroft said, a soft smile on his face.

“Hi love,” Gregory said, returning the smile. He was led into the townhouse and was immediately pulled into a punishing kiss. His ginger lover had missed him, it seemed, and he couldn’t help but grin into the embrace.

Just as suddenly as he had been kissed, Mycroft pulled back, a cautious look on his face that quickly became something else, as he quickly whirled away, cupping his nose with his long, slender hands.

Ahhhh-hhhh-Hehmmmpftish! Tisssssh! Tissssssh! Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftishoooo! Ishoooo!

“God bless you!” Gregory said, worriedly wondering what could have . . . . Oh shit, he thought as Mycroft’s breath began to hitch wheezily again.

Ahhhh-heh-hhhmmpftish! MmmmINGHtighsh! Mmmpftish! INGHtighshooo! Mmmpftish! Mmmpftish! INGHtighshooo! Mmmpftishooo!

“God bless you, love!” Feeling tremendously guilty, Gregory walked back to the door and put the bouquet outside and then quickly returned to Mycroft’s side.

Mycroft had managed to pull his handkerchief from his trouser pocket, and was wiping his eyes when Gregory returned, a sheepish look on his face. “You had ahhh-no way of hhhknowing,” Mycroft said, before he succumbed once again, nose buried within the cloth.

Hhhheh-mmpftish! Mmmpftish! Mmmpftish! Mmmpftisssshh! MmmmINGHtighsh! Heh-heh-hhhmmpftishooo! INGHtighshooo! MmmmINGHtighshoooo!

Frowning, Gregory led him into the study. “God bless you again, Mycroft,” he said softly, settling him on the couch. The older man sat down next to Mycroft, and put a reassuring hand on his knee. “Can I get you anything?”

Mycroft opened his mouth to reply, but found himself giving into a teasing, hitching breath and sneezing yet again.

Mmmpfxisssshhhmpf! MmmmINGHtighshooo! Ah….hah……heh…..heh…..hhhmmpftish! MmmmINGHtighsh! Hhh……heh………hhhmmpftish! MmmmINGHtighsh! Mmmpftish! INGHtighshoooo!

Gregory winced; he felt absolutely rotten that his gift was causing such a terrible reaction. “God bless you, God bless you, God bless you,” he said over and over again, squeezing Mycroft’s knee.

Mycroft blew his nose again, trying to remove the traces of the allergen. He was going to need to fetch another handkerchief or find some tissues very soon; this handkerchief was close to useless. Wiping his nose, he sniffled and looked up, damp eyed at Gregory, who was looking at him with an anxious and guilty look etched across his features.

“Thag you, Gregory. My apologies for this,” Mycroft murmured quietly, gesturing to himself.

“Mycroft, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who has nearly killed you here!” Gregory watched as Mycroft dabbed at his pink, damp nostrils with the handkerchief. It looked well past its usefulness, and he felt ashamed for not noticing sooner. He quickly stood and fetched a box of tissues that were on an end table, and brought them back over. Plucking a few, he handed them to his lover.

Mycroft gave him a sad smile, and accepted the soft tissues. He shoved the useless handkerchief into his trouser pocket, and blew his nose as tenderly as possible. He felt that the worst of the allergic reaction had passed, but it wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can get you? I’m assuming you have something?” Gregory asked carefully.

Mycroft reluctantly nodded. There was no sense in Gregory going all the way upstairs for an antihistamine; he knew he had a packet for emergencies in his briefcase, which for once was blissfully empty of anything requiring a security clearance. “There is a packet of antihistamines in my briefcase,” Mycroft admitted with a sniff.

Gregory rose and headed into Mycroft’s home office. It was easy enough to find the foil packet and he returned quickly with the pills and a glass of water. Mycroft nodded his thanks and quickly took the offered medication as Gregory joined him back on the couch.

Gregory took in his lover’s appearance; Mycroft looked wrecked and not in a good way. His normally perfect hair was mussed, there were tear tracks left on his cheeks, and his eyes were moist. His nose was pink, and twitched infrequently, as the allergic reaction slowly ebbed away. Gregory plucked a tissue from the box and began to gently wipe away all traces of the allergic tears that had fallen. Mycroft was hesitant at first, but found the caresses soothing, and soon closed his eyes as Gregory tended to him. He couldn’t believe how nice and loving Gregory was being toward him. He was sure he must look and sound terrible by now. Why Gregory had not run away in disgust was a mystery.

He was awash in the affection and was rather surprised, when Gregory began to gently press the tissue to his tender nostrils, removing the moisture gathered there. Unfortunately, Mycroft was still terribly sensitive, and the fleeting light and feathery touches had set him off sneezing rather violently. He did his best to stifle, not wanting to sneeze on Gregory, as he turned his head away.

Hng’ISSH! Heh……hhhmmmmpTNSGH! INGISHHHHH! Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH!

“God bless you, love,” Gregory said, pressing a handful of tissues into Mycroft’s hand.

“Thank you, Gregory. Again, my apologies,” Mycroft said softly, completely embarrassed for losing control, as he tended to his nose.

Gregory put an arm around his lover and pulled him close. He began to trail his fingers up and down his back, making soothing patterns. “You’re welcome,” he said, kissing Mycroft on the top of his head. It took a moment, but Gregory finally felt him relax under his gentle ministrations.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

OMG! I just sent a PM (minutes ago) to you saying I was looking forward to your take on this and ... Voila! I love it! Poor Gregory! Poor Mycroft! It didn't even seem that Mycroft saw the flowers before all hell broke loose. "Oh shit" is right, Gregory.

[AngelEyes]

Bloody hell. I'll just be................over here............yeah........... Poor Gregory, so distraught. But Mycroft. Gods. I'm going to stop now because I'm out of brain, no more think.

[cally]

OMG! I just sent a PM (minutes ago) to you saying I was looking forward to your take on this and ... Voila! I love it! Poor Gregory! Poor Mycroft! It didn't even seem that Mycroft saw the flowers before all hell broke loose. "Oh shit" is right, Gregory.

No, he never saw them, the poor thing.

Bloody hell. I'll just be................over here............yeah........... Poor Gregory, so distraught. But Mycroft. Gods. I'm going to stop now because I'm out of brain, no more think.

Thinking is hard.

Since everything has been such a bit not good, I haven't felt much like writing. That, and I feel that my writing ability is . . . . well rubbish as of late. But that may be a reflection on everything that's been going on, I don't know. Hopefully, I can find some inspiration and whatnot in something that I really had enjoyed. . .

12. soaked

It had been a long, tiring day, and Gregory Lestrade wanted nothing more than a hot shower and his bed. He parked his car outside the townhouse, and launched himself out into the rainy London night. He was soaked to the skin instantly. Shivering, he ran up to the door and fumbled to get his keys in the lock, clumsily dropping them. He bent down to pick them up and as he stood back up, was assaulted by a violent sneeze.

Heh’HRDSCHHhhhhooo!

“God bless,” came a quiet voice behind him as the rain stopped falling over him momentarily.

He startled, nearly dropping his keys again. “Christ, Mycroft! You can’t just sneak up on people like that,” Lestrade said as he finally unlocked the door to their townhouse. Mycroft quickly closed his umbrella, exposing them both briefly before they got inside.

Shuddering from the cold and wet, Gregory let them both inside. As he crossed the threshold, he quickly ducked his head into his elbow, gasping out another harsh, punishing, and heady sneeze.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHooooo!

“Goodness, Gregory. God bless you,” Mycroft said. He stood the umbrella in its stand by the door and studied his partner.

Gregory sniffed as he pulled his coat off and grabbing a hanger, he headed into the downstairs toilet to hang it up; it was dripping wet. He came out and sank into a chair with a sigh. “Thanks,” he murmured. He hadn’t been expecting to see Mycroft; he wasn’t meant to be back for another evening. This either meant his business abroad was concluded or had ended badly. Not that he wasn’t glad to see his lover, he was just drained, exhausted.

Mycroft removed his own coat and hung it up on the coatrack. He headed to where Gregory was sitting and began to knead his tense shoulders. He felt the tension begin to drain as he massaged, soothing his lover through the power of touch. He frowned as Gregory tensed up again, shuddered, and sneezed another forceful sneeze.

Huh……..HuhASHHHHhhooo!

“God bless you my dear,” Mycroft said, fretting. He removed a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and pressed it into Gregory’s hand. “Are you alright?”

Gregory nodded, blowing his nose. “I’m just tired, love.” He knew he didn’t need to say anything more, that Mycroft would have read his entire day in the way he was sitting and from the dirt on the cuff of his trousers.

He allowed himself to be gently led from the chair and up the stairs to their bedroom. After a brief stop in the ensuite, Mycroft undressed him and got him into warm and dry pajamas and into bed. The politician then made quick work of his own clothing and joined his lover in bed, pulling Gregory to him and holding him tight.

[AngelEyes]

I've been away from the forum for what seems ages due to insaneness in my own life, but I come back just in time to see you are back! Yay! Sorry things are not good right now. Hugs! But your writing is still/always wonderful! Do not worry about that!!!

[stargazer]

Hope writing made you feel a little better. This latest drabble definitely brightened my day.

But your writing is still/always wonderful! Do not worry about that!!!

I completely agree. You're writing is excellent.