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

[cally]

On 21 April 2016 at 5:45 AM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

So good to see Mycroft show he has a sense of humor about all of this

He tries.  Sometimes.

This wasn't the drabble I meant to write.  Oops.

51.  Oolong

Mycroft sat on the sofa rubbing at his eyes irritatedly.  He had been going over paperwork all day and he was not yet finished.  He was uncertain which was worse at this moment, the eyestrain from reading or the seasonal irritation plaguing him.  He sighed in frustration and sniffed.  He didn’t seem to notice that he was bouncing his leg from side to side.  He was practically vibrating, but appeared unawares.

Greg came in with a hot cup of tea for his lover.  “Here you go.

“Thank you, my dear.”  Mycroft took a sip and frowned.

“This is Oolong,” he said.  He did not sound pleased at this turn of events.

“Yeahhhh.”  Greg drew out the word.

“There is no caffeine in this,” Mycroft remarked.

“No. No, there isn’t.  I think you’ve had enough for today,” Greg said firmly.

Mycroft levelled an icy glare at his partner, but it was suddenly lost in a pair of hastily stifled sneezes.

Heh…… Hhnnchx! Mmmpfx’ish!

“Bless you, love.”

Mycroft sniffed and snatched a tissue from the box on the table in front of him.  He primly dabbed at his nostrils.  “Thank you.”

“For the tea as well?” Greg asked.

Mycroft sighed, resigned to his fate.  “For both the tea and the blessing, yes.”

Grinning, Greg planted a kiss on Mycroft’s head.  “You’re welcome.”

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

LOL! I love it when Greg takes on the "I know best" attitude. 

6 hours ago, cally said:

“There is no caffeine in this,” Mycroft remarked.

“No. No, there isn’t.  I think you’ve had enough for today,” Greg said firmly.

And the manners lesson...

6 hours ago, cally said:

He primly dabbed at his nostrils.  “Thank you.”

“For the tea as well?” Greg asked.

Mycroft sighed, resigned to his fate.  “For both the tea and the blessing, yes.”

Grinning, Greg planted a kiss on Mycroft’s head.  “You’re welcome.”

Nice one Cally! 

[cally]

18 hours ago, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

And the manners lesson...

I couldn't help it.   And you know, this one is for you.   I also couldn't help but include a 'tribute" to my thesis.

 

52.  fern

“No, Prime Minster, that is not what stigmatisation means.  The paper merely illustrates the ways in which the Travellers have been excluded by those who hold social power,” Mycroft explained diplomatically.  Someone certainly needed to revoke the PM’s Internet access.  He had the strange habit of coming up with relatively obscure pieces of research that were entirely irrelevant to anything on the current agenda.  Mycroft was not sure if Cameron had ever heard of Norbert Elias, let alone even met a traveller himself.  He sighed internally, as the infernal politician continued to carry on and on.

Mycroft heard the front door open and close; Greg was home then.  There was a loud thump and then the sound of one of Greg’s explosive sneezes.

Heh’DZSCHOOOOO! 

“I am terribly sorry, Prime Minister, there is another urgent matter that has come to my attention.  May we revisit this later this week, perhaps?”  Mycroft barely waited for the PM to supply any additional requests or formalities and hung up the phone.  He then quickly headed out to the foyer.

Huh’RUHSHHOOOO!

“Goodness!  God bless you, Gregory.”  Mycroft took in the appearance of his beloved.  He was covered in dust, dirt, and assorted debris.  Was that hay? Mycroft thought to himself.

Greg sniffled and looked up from where he was trying to remove his shoes without getting whatever was all over him all over the foyer.  “Thanks, love,” he sniffed again.

Mycroft frowned.  He waited until Greg had finally removed his shoes and offered over his handkerchief.  Greg looked as he was about to thank him, but instead he quickly ducked down into the cloth and sneezed viciously. 

Huh…heh’DZSCHOOOOO!  HRDSCHHhhhhuh!  

“God bless you again, my dear.”  Mycroft began to pick what indeed was hay out of Greg’s hair.

“Thags, love,” Greg said between blows.

Mycroft looked a mixture of thoughtful and annoyed.  “Am I correct in assuming that your appearance has to do with something that begins with Sher and ends in Lock?”  He raised an eyebrow as he removed a fern frond from Greg’s collar.

Greg huffed out a laugh.  “That would be yes.”

“Anything I need to be worried about?”  Mycroft asked.

“Other than the state of the foyer, no,” Greg chuckled, looking down at the debris on the floor.  He smiled at Mycroft, before his eyes got a faraway look in them.  He gasped out a hitching breath and buried his nose within the borrowed cloth.

Heh . . . . . .HRDSCHHhhhhoooo! Heh’DZSCHOOOOO! 

“Good heavens!  God bless you again!

Huh’RUHSHHOOOO!

Greg sneezed harshly in response.

“And again, my dear.  Perhaps we should get you into the shower and remove whatever is irritating you.”  Mycroft began to lead him in the direction of the staircase.

Greg snuffled into the handkerchief and allowed himself to be led.  “Are you going to join me?”  He leered suggestively from behind the cloth.

Mycroft rolled his eyes.  “You are incorrigible.”

“Is that a yes?” Greg sniffed.

“I will consider it,” Mycroft said, leading him up the stairs.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

 This totally had me snickering from the first sentence. I still think you should sneak a drabble into your thesis just to see if your advisors are reading. 

OMG! I can so see this...

4 hours ago, cally said:

Mycroft began to pick what indeed was hay out of Greg’s hair.

“Thags, love,” Greg said between blows.

Mycroft looked a mixture of thoughtful and annoyed.  “Am I correct in assuming that your appearance has to do with something that begins with Sher and ends in Lock?”  He raised an eyebrow as he removed a fern frond from Greg’s collar.

Greg huffed out a laugh.  “That would be yes.”

I bet Mycroft only used two fingers as well. 

Greg would try to get frisky during an allergy attack...

4 hours ago, cally said:

Greg snuffled into the handkerchief and allowed himself to be led.  “Are you going to join me?”  He leered suggestively from behind the cloth.

Mycroft rolled his eyes.  “You are incorrigible.”

“Is that a yes?” Greg sniffed.

“I will consider it,” Mycroft said, leading him up the stairs.

Yeah, I think quite a few of us would consider it.

[cally]

On 26 April 2016 at 3:32 AM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

 This totally had me snickering from the first sentence. I still think you should sneak a drabble into your thesis just to see if your advisors are reading.

There's a frightening thought!

On 26 April 2016 at 3:32 AM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

I bet Mycroft only used two fingers as well.

I should have said "plucked." 

On 26 April 2016 at 3:32 AM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

Greg would try to get frisky during an allergy attack...

He always does.  It just doesn't phase him at all.

 

53.  fog

Mycroft woke up slowly, feeling like he was in a fog.  He lay there for a long moment, taking an inventory of how he felt.  He blinked, his eyes heavy with sleep, and immediately noticed how puffy, irritated, and itchy they were.  As he sat up, he could feel the pressure increasing in his sinuses and he momentarily felt dizzy.  He glanced over to the bedside table and noticed that Greg had left him a handkerchief, an antihistamine and a glass of water.   He could hear his lover humming to himself in the shower and he smiled fondly at the sentiment.

He rubbed his face, removing the sleep from his now damp eyes, and he flinched as his fingers trailed over his sinuses.  He sniffed as the irritation began to meander from his sinuses down into his nostrils; prickling rapidly as it spread.  Mycroft pinched his nose, trying delay the inevitable outcome.   With his other hand, he reached for the cloth that Greg had left him. 

With a harsh sniff, he was able to temporarily waylay the tickle.  Relieved he had bought himself a small fraction of time, Mycroft tried to unblock his ears; he didn’t want to burst an eardrum by sneezing.  Greg would most certainly never let him live it down.

He yawned and swallowed and luckily was able to unblock his ears.  In doing so, he realised how persistent the itchiness was; it had spread from his ears into his palate.  Mycroft’s nose had begun to drip and he gently pressed the handkerchief to the underside of it.  The slight touch was enough to set him off, his breath hitching.

Heh……heh…… Hhnnchx!  Mmmpfx! Heh’tish! Ahhhh…..heh’TISHoooooo!

He blinked several times, his eyes watering from the force of the last paroxysm. Everything felt terribly inflamed; an inhalation or exhalation could easily cause him to lose control again.

Mycroft attempted to carefully blow his nose, mindful of the swelling and inflammation; his ears were blocked again.  This along with the second set of hitching breaths and subsequent sneezing was why he didn’t hear Greg come out of the en suite.   And because of his blocked ears, he had no choice but to not stifle.

Heh’hhhmmmmpTNSGHoooo!  Heh’TISSSHH-ooo!  Heh’INGTISHooo! AhhhhTISHOOO!

“Jesus!  Bless you, Mycroft!”  Greg stood clad only in a towel next to the bed and was looking worried.  Mycroft never sneezed like that unless he could help it; he must really be feeling poorly, Greg thought.

Mycroft took a moment to blow his nose.  “Thag you, Gregory.  My apologies,” he murmured.   He sounded terribly congested. 

He sank back against the headboard, the handkerchief still pressed to his nose.  Greg sat down next to him and squeezed his partner’s thigh comfortingly.  He knew Mycroft had to be feeling miserable; he wasn’t complaining that he was getting the duvet damp.  A pair of damp sneezes tore him away from his thoughts.

Heh’TISSSHH!  Ishoooo!

“Bless you, love.” 

Greg waited for Mycroft to finish tending to his nose before handing over the water and pill.  “Here, take this.  It should help.”

“Thank you.”  Mycroft’s voice sounded hoarse in addition to being stuffy.

“Can I get you anything else?”

Mycroft shook his head and reached out and squeezed Greg’s hand.  “You should get dressed.  You’ll catch a chill,” he rasped.

Greg chuckled before leaning forward and kissing Mycroft on the forehead. 

Mycroft watched Greg get dressed; the view taking away a bit of his allergic misery.  He rubbed at his now reddened eyes and sniffed as he began to contemplate how he was going to get through the day with how he was currently feeling, which was utterly wretched.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Aw! Poor Mycroft! At least Greg is ready for him...

14 hours ago, cally said:

Greg had left him a handkerchief, an antihistamine and a glass of water. 

This was just a lovely image. I think I'll carry this around in my head for quite awhile. 

14 hours ago, cally said:

“Jesus!  Bless you, Mycroft!”  Greg stood clad only in a towel next to the bed and was looking worried.  Mycroft never sneezed like that unless he could help it; he must really be feeling poorly, Greg thought.

And even though we know it doesn't work this way one can only hope...  

14 hours ago, cally said:

“You should get dressed.  You’ll catch a chill,” he rasped.

Greg chuckled before leaning forward and kissing Mycroft on the forehead. 

[AngelEyes]

Wow. I am sooooo far behind!!! On the plus side, it allows me to binge read! And such deliciousness too!

On April 20, 2016 at 2:38 PM, cally said:

“Bless you,” Greg chuckled.  “If you wanted my hands on you, there are easier ways.” He winked at Mycroft cheekily. 

LOL!

On April 20, 2016 at 2:38 PM, cally said:

“Bless you again,” Greg said.  “I was wondering if there’d be a second one,” he mused, as he went over and retrieved Mycroft’s emergency antihistamines from his briefcase.  It certainly was rare for Mycroft to only sneeze just the once.

 

 

That earned a soft huff of laughter from Mycroft.

Oh Mycroft.

On April 25, 2016 at 5:24 PM, cally said:

“Anything I need to be worried about?”  Mycroft asked.

 

 

“Other than the state of the foyer, no,” Greg chuckled, looking down at the debris on the floor. 

No worries, Mycroft has people for that.

On April 25, 2016 at 5:24 PM, cally said:

Greg snuffled into the handkerchief and allowed himself to be led.  “Are you going to join me?”  He leered suggestively from behind the cloth.

 

 

Mycroft rolled his eyes.  “You are incorrigible.”

 

 

“Is that a yes?” Greg sniffed.

 

 

“I will consider it,” Mycroft said, leading him up the stairs.

Definitely incorrigible! And we love it!

On April 30, 2016 at 5:01 PM, cally said:

“Jesus!  Bless you, Mycroft!”  Greg stood clad only in a towel next to the bed and was looking worried.  Mycroft never sneezed like that unless he could help it; he must really be feeling poorly, Greg thought.

 

 

 

Poor dear!

On April 30, 2016 at 5:01 PM, cally said:

Mycroft watched Greg get dressed; the view taking away a bit of his allergic misery. 

That would definitely make me feel better!

[cally]

On 1 May 2016 at 1:10 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

And even though we know it doesn't work this way one can only hope... 

I know, right?

 

On 6 May 2016 at 3:58 AM, AngelEyes said:

That would definitely make me feel better!

No kidding, right?

 

So, @Seeking Clarity + Wisdom and I had a chat and came up with this idea.  There will most likely be a 3rd part, getting to the bit of silliness that we had a bit of a giggle over.  So, it's all her fault.  

 

  54.  Caught out (part 1)

 

If they had to tell the tale themselves, neither would really remember why they couldn’t get a taxi.  Sherlock always could get one, unless he had just stuck a pig, something that didn’t exactly happen daily.  They where nowhere near an Underground station either.  In fact, John wasn’t quite sure where they were.

After a good ten minutes of arguing about it with no resolution found, the skies, which had been threatening all day, opened up.  Tugging their coat collars up they ran for the nearest overhang, but the damage had been done.  They were soaked.

“Well, this, this is perfect, Sherlock!”  John threw up his hands in exasperation.

Sherlock sighed.  “I can hardly control the weather,” he scoffed.  Water dripped from his curls and down onto his face, running rivulets along his cheekbones.

John took a deep breath and tried to think warm, non-murderous thoughts.

The overhang wasn’t altogether terribly dry and the rain was continuing to drip down on them.  Although, not nearly as much as if they had been fully exposed.

John removed his mobile from his pocket.  Dead, of course.  He never had time to charge it when they were on a case, or whatever this was supposed to be.

“Sherlock?”

“Hmmm?” 

He seemed preoccupied in thought John thought.  With what, he wondered further.

“Do you have your phone?”

“Hmmm?”  Sherlock sniffed.

“Your phone.  Do you have it?”  John said, exasperated.

Sherlock fumbled about in the pockets of his rain-sodden Belstaff.  He paused abruptly in his search and stifled what would have been a harsh sounding sneeze.

Hngxt!  

“Bless you,” John offered.

Sherlock ignored him and continued to search.  He came up empty.

“Of course.”  John was flummoxed.  He leaned back against the damp wall.

Sherlock sneezed again, pressing his nose against the sleeve of his coat.

Hngxtsh!  

“Bless you again.”

This time John got a nod in response, right before Sherlock succumbed again, pitching forward slightly.

Hngxtshoooo!  

“And again.”  John checked his pockets and came up with a damp, crumpled napkin.  “Sorry.  S’all I’ve got.”

Sherlock nodded his thanks.  He then wiped his nose and then sniffled damply.   He looked out into the rain.

“So now what?”

“We wait until the rain lets up and then we can walk until we find . . .” Sherlock’s train of thought was interrupted by another sneeze.

Hng’ISSHOOO!  

“Bless you.”

“Thank you, John.” Sherlock said, before trying to blow his nose with the crumpled, and now nearly translucent napkin.

 

In another part of London. . .

Greg Lestrade was currently getting reacquainted with his partner, in the backseat of his aforementioned partner’s towncar.  He kissed Mycroft’s ear softly and then made his way slowly down the long, elegant neck that belonged to him.  He licked a freckle and grinned into the pale skin.

“Gregory!  You are going to leave a mark!”

“I want you marked.  You’re mine,” Greg growled.  “I missed you, Myc.”  He sucked on the freckle lightly.

“And I you, my dear.”  Mycroft pulled Greg into a gentle kiss that held the promise of much more.   Something that might have continued right then and there, had Mycroft’s mobile not vibrated.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, removed his mobile from its pocket, and opened the message.  He watched the video file for a moment, and rolled his eyes again, sighing in exasperation.

“It appears our liaison will need to wait a bit longer, dearest.  My brother and Doctor Watson are in need of rescue.”

Greg looked confused.  “He’s not on a case, is he?”

“It appears to be a private one.  Nothing too untoward, it seems.  However, it appears he and Doctor Watson have been caught out in the rain.”  This was why he always carried an umbrella.  Well, for that and the tracking device, of course.

Greg laughed.  “Well, I suppose we’d better go get ‘em.”

 

 

55. Caught out (part 2)

Ten minutes later. . . .

Sherlock sniffled miserably and rubbed his nose with the sleeve of his coat again, the napkin long since having been rendered useless.

John had done the little that he could, not that there was much to be done when neither of them had a working mobile, anything resembling an umbrella, or a packet of tissues.  He peered out at the unrelenting rain again.  He thought he had heard something other than Sherlock’s frequent and wet sniffles.  As he did, a dark car made its way down the street towards them.

Sniffling again, Sherlock looked up and sighed.  “Oh, this is just great.”

“Shut up Sherlock.  I’m cold and wet and you’ve not stopped sniffling and sneezing since we got soaked.  We’re going to get into the car and you are going to be grateful and thank your brother,” John said, in his Captain voice.

Sherlock nodded, but as soon as John had his back turned, he rolled his eyes in exasperation.  Could his day get any worse?  First, the case was a dead end, quite literally, then the rain, and now he had to deal with Mycroft.

The door opened and John got in first, dragging a sniffling, struggling Sherlock along with him.   He was a bit surprised to see Greg in the car as well, but he covered it with a curt ‘thank you’ to both of them.

Mycroft nodded, and raised an eyebrow in his brother’s direction.  Sherlock was sitting as far away from the three of them as he could, arms crossed in front of him.  He looked every bit like a very wet, petulant child.  He glared at his brother, which quickly turned to a look of revulsion and horror. 

Mycroft raised an eyebrow.  Clearly Greg hadn’t been as careful as he had thought; there must be a mark on his neck to cause Sherlock to recoil.  He silently studied his brother for a moment, watching, deducing, while John and Greg chatted amicably.

Sighing, Mycroft rolled his eyes and removed a pristine handkerchief from his trouser pocket.  He offered it to Sherlock, who continued to pointedly ignore him, despite his continued frequent, liquid sniffles. 

John turned to the silent Holmes brothers.  “Sherlock,” he said.  His voice held an edge to it. 

But before Sherlock could glare at John, he turned his head away from everyone, ducking down into his damp shoulder.

HhhshHNGXtishh!  HngxTISSSSH!

“God bless you, Sherlock,” Mycroft said.  He held the cloth out toward his brother again.

Sherlock ruefully accepted it with a slight nod toward his brother.  John saw, and couldn’t help but smirk.  The smirk quickly changed to concern when Sherlock’s breath began to hitch wildly.  The consulting detective sounded miserable as he was suddenly overcome by a fit of vicious, damp sneezes.

Heh . . . .heh . . . .heh . . . .HngISHxt!  Hng’ISSH! Hng’ISSHOOO!  Heh. . . . heh. . . . Heh’hhhhngxissshh! Hngxissshhi!  HngxtISSSshhooo! AHHngxtshhoo!  TISSSSHooo!

“God bless you!” Mycroft said, and both John and Greg echoed the sentiment.  John cast a worried glance at Sherlock, who was attempting to blow his congested nose.

Sherlock looked up, his cerulean eyes glassy, and nodded.  He looked defeated as he sank back against the leather seat and closed his eyes. 

 

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

Oh, the poor baby! *coos*

[AngelEyes]

Squee! A Sherlock fic! Poor John. Sherlock does seem to get them into situations. LOL. 

6 hours ago, cally said:

“Gregory!  You are going to leave a mark!”

 

 

“I want you marked.  You’re mine,” Greg growled.  “I missed you, Myc.”  He sucked on the freckle lightly.

I love Greg's possessiveness!

6 hours ago, cally said:

“It appears our liaison will need to wait a bit longer, dearest.  My brother and Doctor Watson are in need of rescue.”

I love that Mycroft has his brother being watched constantly and automatic alerts sent to him. Big brother to the rescue!

6 hours ago, cally said:

“Shut up Sherlock.  I’m cold and wet and you’ve not stopped sniffling and sneezing since we got soaked.  We’re going to get into the car and you are going to be grateful and thank your brother,” John said, in his Captain voice.

I love when John goes all military on Sherlock. You will Behave yourself!

6 hours ago, cally said:

He looked every bit like a very wet, petulant child.

So totally Sherlock!

 

6 hours ago, cally said:

The consulting detective sounded miserable as he was suddenly overcome by a fit of vicious, damp sneezes.

Mmmmm.

6 hours ago, cally said:

John cast a worried glance at Sherlock, who was attempting to blow his congested nose.

Oh dear.

You write Sherlock so well, you should more often. Not that I mind all your wonderful amazing delicious Mystrade. So basically I'm saying I will lap up anything you choose to write.

[cally]

On 16 May 2016 at 0:07 AM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

Caught out in the rain... Caught out snogging your boyfriend... What next?  

Can't wait for part 3!  

Don't hold your breath.

On 17 May 2016 at 2:14 AM, AngelEyes said:

 

Squee! A Sherlock fic! Poor John. Sherlock does seem to get them into situations. LOL. 

 

He does seem to be good at it.

 

OK.  So I'm in my last 3 months of writing up my thesis, which means I won't be writing drabbles as much (at all).  Occasionally, I take a few minutes and jot down some thoughts and occasionally I have a few minutes to type them up.  But if all goes well, the updates should be few and far between.

56. eye

 

Mycroft was washing up for the evening.  As he washed his face, he noticed a particularly tender spot under his eye that caused him to flinch.  He rubbed at his nose, hoping to quell the rising ticklish irritation that came on as a response.  Unfortunately, he was unable to will away the fit of overdramatic sneezes that quickly escaped.

Heh . . . . .Heh’TSSSCHH!  Huh’mffTSChhh! Heh . . huh ING’SHHHHH! Hng’ISSH-OOO! 

While Mycroft was overcome, Greg had come over and was now standing against the doorjamb, his arms crossed.  He frowned.

“Bless you,” he said, once it appeared that Mycroft was done.

Mycroft shook his head and snatched up the hand towel that he was going to use to dry his face.  His breath hitched for a moment before he was once again nearly bent over from the harshness of the pair of sneezes that burst forth.  Greg moved closer and braced the younger man by putting his hands on his shoulders. 

Heh! --Ah-hehhhh Aah! Heh’TSSSCHH! Hng’ISSH-OOO!

“God bless you, love.”

With a sigh, Mycroft lowered the towel.  “Thank you, my dear.  Apologies.”

Greg chuckled and wrapped his arms around his lover.  “You’re welcome.”  He pressed a kiss on the back of Mycroft’s neck and then moved toward the sink to brush his teeth.

Mycroft tossed the hand towel into the hamper.  As he reached for a handful of tissues, he sighed inwardly.  He had hoped for a reprieve with the cooler and damp weather, but it seemed his sinuses had other plans for him.

 

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Turning blue over here!!!

22 hours ago, cally said:

Don't hold your breath.

Damn. 

Nah, it's all good. I know you should be writing your thesis. (Still think you should sneak a fic in there just to see if anyone is actually reading.  )

22 hours ago, cally said:

He pressed a kiss on the back of Mycroft’s neck and then moved toward the sink to brush his teeth.

I love this image. I can see Greg in his pants and T-shirt and Mycroft in his pjs and their "dance" in the bathroom as they get ready for bed together. 

22 hours ago, cally said:

He had hoped for a reprieve with the cooler and damp weather, but it seemed his sinuses had other plans for him.

His sinuses always have other plans. 

[AngelEyes]

Poor Mycroft. Never a reprieve! Glad you are working on your thesis, but miss you here!

[cally]

I know I said I was on a break, but I thought creative writing might jump start my brain.  It hasn't worked.

 

On 18 June 2016 at 1:14 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

His sinuses always have other plans.

Yup.

On 21 June 2016 at 3:14 AM, AngelEyes said:

 

Poor Mycroft. Never a reprieve!

 

Nope.

 

57. migraine

 

Greg stumbled into the townhouse unsteadily.  With a heavy sigh, he removed his coat, hanging it on the stand.  He kicked off his shoes before heading straight into the kitchen.  He removed a small can of Coke from the fridge, and then trudged back down the hall and up the stairs.  He moved slowly, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.  His movements were slow and uncoordinated, like he was moving through treacle.

As he progressed, snail-like, he heard Mycroft sneeze from behind the door to his study.  He wished he had the energy to check on his partner, but it was all he could do right now to keep himself upright.  Had he any presence of mind, he would have realised that this was quite out of the ordinary for his partner.  Grimacing, his head and stomach lurched as he made his way into the bedroom and its ensuite.

Once in the bathroom, he located the strongest painkillers they had.  He popped one out of the foil packet, and then on second thought added a second.  He opened the small can of soda, and with the smallest sip he could manage in order to get the meds in him, he swallowed down the pills.  He stood, bent over and head hanging heavily with his hands on the countertop for a few moments while he waited to make sure he wouldn’t be sick.  His knuckles were white from the force of his grip on the counter.

He looked up at himself in the mirror, scowling at his appearance.  He looked old and haggard; exhausted.  Exhaling through his nose, he began to unbutton his shirt.  As weary and unwell as he was, he knew he needed to shower before he got into bed.

He removed what was left of his clothing and kicked it to one side.  He knew Mycroft hated when he left his clothing lying about, but right now he had neither the inclination nor a care to pick up after himself.  He turned the shower on cool and was at once grateful for the variety of settings on the showerhead.  He selected one that was barely a mist and stood under the spray for a few minutes, relishing the feel of the cool water on the pounding within his temples.

He absently reached over for the shower gel and began to lather up, not realising he had selected the one that smelled strongly of mint.  He sniffed and felt his nostrils prickle intensely.  He quickly rinsed off and pinched his nose, rubbing at it harshly.  The last thing he needed to do now was sneeze; it certainly wouldn’t help his aching, throbbing head.  After a moment, the sensation waned and carefully, he exited the shower, turning the water off behind him.  He hastily dried himself off and then wrapped the towel loosely around his waist.

He took another sip of the soda before heading into the bedroom.  He was starting to feel lightheaded and woozy; side effects from the painkillers.  His migraine had yet to wane, but he found he cared less about it now.  Tossing the towel carelessly to the floor, he slipped beneath the cool, crisp sheets.  Moments later, he was asleep.

 

An hour later, Mycroft looked up from his laptop and rubbed his eyes.  They were itchy and sore, from his work and the elevated pollen count.  He had thought he had heard Greg come in earlier.  Perhaps he had imagined it.  Unlikely though.  Normally, he would have stuck his head in to say hello or offer him a cup of tea, despite Mycroft’s frequent requests not to be disturbed.  It was part of Gregory’s charm, so he said.  Mycroft couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his lips.  Stretching, he rose from his chair and left his office.  He immediately knew Greg was home; his coat and shoes were by the door.  Frowning, as he couldn’t hear any indication of his partner’s location, he headed up the stairs.

His frown deepened when he located Greg in their bed, fast asleep.  A quick glance around the room and ensuite and he was able to deduce the reason for Greg’s unprecedented behaviour.  Mycroft carefully sat down next to his lover, and placed a gentle hand on his forehead.  Greg was slightly warm, but nothing that caused him immediate concern.  He ran his fingers through Greg’s still damp, silver locks.  He wished Greg had come to him when he arrived home.  There was no reason for him to suffer on his own. 

Mycroft huffed out a breath, which did nothing but irritate his already inflamed nostrils.  He quickly turned away from his sleeping partner and stifled a flurry of sneezes, doing his very best to stay quiet as possible.

Heh……heh…… Hhnnchx!  Mmmpfx! Heh’tish! Mmmpfx’ish!

Mycroft knew that he couldn’t delay the inevitable and moved to rise from where he was seated, when Greg reached out for him. 

“Mmmmm, bless,” Greg mumbled sleepily.  He rolled over and looked up at his lover.

Mycroft sniffed and turned away, sneezing more harshly this time.

Huh’mffTSChhh! Heh . . huh ING’SHHHHH! NGISHOOO! Hng’ISSH-OOO! 

“Bless you,” Greg said.  He carefully sat up and was pleased to find that there was only a residual thrumming in his head and that the nausea was gone.   He reached over and plucked a few tissues from the box on the bedside table and handed them to Mycroft.  “Here,” he offered.

Mycroft barely managed a nod before snatching the tissues from Greg and sneezing violently into them. 

Heh…heh’ETCHOO! Huh’Ishoooo!  Heh’TSSSCHH! Heh’TISSSHHoooo! 

“Bless you again,” Greg murmured.  He reached over for the tissues and held another handful out towards Mycroft.

Mycroft sniffled and accepted the fresh tissues.  “Thank you, Gregory.  I apologize sorry for disturbing your rest.  I merely was concerned.”  He gently blew his pink-tinged nose.

Greg ran a hand across his face and yawned.  “Better now,” he remarked.  “The painkillers and the nap did their job.”

Mycroft studied him for a moment but could see no deceit in his eyes.  “Was it worse than the previous one?”  He sniffed as he pensively waited for an answer.

Greg thought for a moment.  “Not really,” he shrugged. 

Mycroft rolled his eyes.  That wasn’t really an answer, he thought to himself.

“S’fine now.  Just a bit of an ache left.”  The duvet shifted as Greg stretched his arms overhead and Mycroft raised an eyebrow at his state of undress.

“See something you like?” Greg grinned broadly and winked at Mycroft.

“You are incorrigible, Gregory Lestrade.”  He shook his head slightly, but there was no venom in his words.  He did not understand how Greg could be so brash so soon after experiencing a migraine.

“How about a cup of tea first?” Mycroft inquired, rising from the bed.  He knew that the caffeine would help alleviate the remainder of Greg’s symptoms.  

“Sounds good, love.  Sounds good,” Greg agreed.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

1 hour ago, cally said:

As he progressed, snail-like, he heard Mycroft sneeze from behind the door to his study.  He wished he had the energy to check on his partner, but it was all he could do right now to keep himself upright.

Oh dear, that's pretty bad.  I imagine this is what Greg's headache was like.

1 hour ago, cally said:

The last thing he needed to do now was sneeze; it certainly wouldn’t help his aching, throbbing head.  After a moment, the sensation waned

Thank goodness he dodged that bullet. 

1 hour ago, cally said:

He quickly turned away from his sleeping partner and stifled a flurry of sneezes, doing his very best to stay quiet as possible.

Yeah, that's not going to happen.  I love sneezy!Mycroft.

1 hour ago, cally said:

“See something you like?” Greg grinned broadly and winked at Mycroft.

Yup, clearly feeling better. I love incorrigible!Lestrade! 

 

Okay, back to work! 

[AngelEyes]

Poor Greg! Migraines are awful!!! Your description of him coming home, just trying to make it upstairs into bed is spot on. And Mycroft coming to check on him and overcome by his nose, not wanting to wake Greg, but too late. But Greg doesn't mind. He loves his Myc. 

On July 9, 2016 at 1:27 PM, cally said:

Mycroft studied him for a moment but could see no deceit in his eyes.  “Was it worse than the previous one?”  He sniffed as he pensively waited for an answer.

 

 

Greg thought for a moment.  “Not really,” he shrugged. 

 

 

Mycroft rolled his eyes.  That wasn’t really an answer, he thought to himself.

Hmmm.

Love it! Good luck getting back to your thesis!

[cally]

Wow. It's been a long time since I've opened this particular thread.  I've long since finished my thesis, and my viva date is in a little over a month (if anyone was wondering). I've had a difficult time doing much more than watching Law and Order, apart from my absolutely fantastic birthday week trip.

I've been debating whether or not to carry on this thread.  I'm sure there are people both for and against this thread being picked up again.  In all honesty, I might stop after this drabble, or I might continue on.  Despite my advancing age, I still continue to be terribly insecure about most things, not just writing, but pretty much everything.  Anyways, this isn't therapy, it's a drabble thread.  I haven't been feeling all that great, so per usual, I've taken it out on Mycroft.

 

58. Chapped

 

Mycroft sighed after tending to his nose for the countless time that morning.  His upper lip, nostrils, and philtrum were pink and irritated; his upper lip chapped severely.  He knew this was down the increased tissue usage (not to mention his unfortunate usage of a sheet of kitchen roll while he was making a cup of tea), but given the alarming rate he was going through said tissues, they were the most appropriate choice at this juncture.

He finally put down the files he was reading and opened the top drawer of his desk.  He was able to locate a tube of lip balm, and quickly applied it.  It would not be pleasant if his lip cracked and bled.  He was feeling miserable enough as it was.  This cold had lingered for far too long already, first settling in his chest and then moving to his sinuses.

Returning to the files recently placed down, he wrinkled his long nose and reached up to rub at the offending appendage and winced at the tenderness.  He sniffed; frustrated that he could not breathe fully.  Mycroft continued reading, unconsciously rubbing at his right temple, until the congestion was too distracting and he was forced to blow his nose again.  He tossed the sodden tissues in the bin, and sighed, frustrated with the duration of the illness.

Unfortunately, for Mycroft, this triggered a series of painful sounding, congested sneezes that he was unable to restrain.  Heh…huh’ETCHOO! hih’TSHOO! After the first two sneezes came out on top of one another, Mycroft quickly reached for the tissues, pulling out the remaining one.  Breath still hitching, he painfully stifled the third expulsion, wincing at the pain that exploded behind his eyes.  Tears swam in his eyes and he felt lightheaded. Heh……Heh……. Hhnnchx!  He swiped at his nose with the last tissue, which was quickly rendered useless. 

As he fumbled within his trouser pocket, he sneezed violently again, not making the mistake of holding his sneezes back this time.  Heh’INGTISHOOO!  Heh’TISSSHOOO! Hih’ETSCHOOO!

He sat there for a moment blowing his nose and trying to regain his equilibrium.  He suddenly felt terribly fortunate that Gregory was not at home to witness his embarrassing outburst.  He sat back in his chair, exhausted and drained and allowed himself to wallow for a moment.  Once the moment passed, he returned to his reading material, stubbornly carrying on.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

 Oh you really did take it out on Mycroft. Poor thing. 

7 hours ago, cally said:

He sat back in his chair, exhausted and drained and allowed himself to wallow for a moment.  Once the moment passed, he returned to his reading material, stubbornly carrying on.

I can totally see this. Blow your nose and carry on.  

Well, I hope you are feeling better now that you've tortured him. 

[AngelEyes]

I always love seeing your writing! No worries there! Poor Mycroft. I love the way you set the scene so detailed to show us his total misery and weariness. 

On 10/24/2016 at 3:46 PM, cally said:

He sat back in his chair, exhausted and drained and allowed himself to wallow for a moment.  Once the moment passed, he returned to his reading material, stubbornly carrying on.

So Mycroft. But sad, his Greg should be taking care of him, despite his thoughts of being glad Greg isn't witnessing it. 

[Shamaël]

I've just been reading all the thread (a bit not good, it's almost 2 in the morning and I have to wake up in... four hours and a half) and I love it! My absolute favorite is the "first" meeting between Lestrade and Mycroft (I imagine I'll go and read your AU, which I have never seen on the forum, but I have registered only recently, but not now because I have to sleep!) - and everything involving Sherlock. "Caught out" was particularly good. Which brings me to quote this...

On 24/01/2016 at 11:59 PM, cally said:

I should write more Sherlock and John. Or Sherlock in general.

Yes. Yes, my thought, precisely. I like reading Mycroft and Lestrade, but if you have any inspiration for Sherlock and John (or for Sherlock alone), do not hesitate!!!

Anyway, thanks for sharing!

[cally]

On 25/10/2016 at 4:52 AM, Sinister Cries + Wails said:

Oh you really did take it out on Mycroft. Poor thing. 

I told you! Thank you as always for your ideas and support.  

On 26/10/2016 at 4:56 AM, AngelEyes said:

his Greg should be taking care of him, despite his thoughts of being glad Greg isn't witnessing it. 

Don't worry, he gets his chance!

22 hours ago, Aliena H. said:

 

I've just been reading all the thread (a bit not good, it's almost 2 in the morning and I have to wake up in... four hours and a half) and I love it! My absolute favorite is the "first" meeting between Lestrade and Mycroft (I imagine I'll go and read your AU, which I have never seen on the forum, but I have registered only recently, but not now because I have to sleep!) - and everything involving Sherlock. "Caught out" was particularly good. Which brings me to quote this...

 

Oh dear me!  Thank you so much for your kind words!    I should hope you haven't been able to get through it all in one night!  In both drabble threads combined + the other standalone pieces we are talking well over 100K words (probably more now).  I know this b/c I counted up how many words there were about 6 or so months ago and found that I had written more fan fiction than I had written for my thesis.  

I do need to go back to "Caught Out."  I had all these good intentions with it and ideas, and then I had to finish my thesis and completely forgot my train of thought.  Hopefully I can find it again.

Here's a continuation of "Chapped."  I pretty much did for myself what Greg did for Mycroft and with the same results, (minus the sneezing of course, since I am still broken ), including the ending.  

59. Eardrum

Two days later, Mycroft was not feeling any better. If anything, he was feeling worse.  The right side of his face had become swollen, similar to how his sinuses behaved in the spring.  The skin on his nose, philtrum, and upper lip had begun to peel, as if he had experienced a painful sunburn.

He was uncomfortable, congested yet also drippy at the same time, and therefore rather put out by his current state of health.  The congestion had led to his ears being blocked, and everything sounded like he was listening to conversations underwater.  This also meant that he could no longer stifle his sneezes, lest risk bursting an eardrum, much to his dismay and Greg’s obvious delight. 

hih’TSHOOO! Heh’TSCH! Huh’ISHOOO! TSCHOOO!

“Bless you, love,” Greg said, grinning at Mycroft.

Mycroft, nose buried in his handkerchief, levelled a damp-eyed glare at the detective inspector.  “Must you take such delight in my misery?”

Greg held up his hands in surrender.  “I just don’t want you to burst an eardrum.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Mycroft replied tetchily.  He cautiously lowered the handkerchief with a sigh, allowing Greg to see how puffy the right side of Mycroft’s face really was. 

“And besides,” Greg began. “It would probably feel like agony with how inflamed your sinuses must be.  Poor thing.”  He gently cupped Mycroft’s cheek, rubbing a warm thumb over the tender area.

Mycroft shuddered and sneezed again; barely able to duck behind the near useless handkerchief he was still holding.

Heh’TSCH! TSCHOOO!

“Bless you again!”

Mycroft cleared his throat.  “Apologies, Gregory.”  He looked down; concerned that he had sneezed all over his partner and frowned.

“Nothing to apologise for, love.  I should have known better,” he said, studying Mycroft.  “What’s wrong?”

“I was afraid I had sneezed on you,” Mycroft said, his voice now even more congested.  He wiped his nose gingerly with the damp cloth and pulled a face.

“You didn’t, don’t worry.”  Greg reached over and squeezed Mycroft’s hand.  He took in his lover’s defeated expression and general malaise and decided he would try to improve the situation slightly.  “Right. I think some steam might help you out, love.  Why don’t you get ready and I’ll be right back.”  Greg stood up, placed a kiss on top of Mycroft’s head, and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

While Mycroft was curious as to what Greg was doing, he was also drained and exhausted and found he really did not care.  He began to get undressed and made his way into the en suite.

When Greg came in a few moments later, he was carrying the kettle.  Mycroft, standing there in his dressing gown, gave him a puzzled look. 

“I’ve an idea. Maybe it will help.” Greg put down the kettle by the sink and turned on the shower, full on high, the hot water at its max.  He turned off the extractor fan, and the room began to fill with steam.  Mycroft sniffled instinctively.

“Let’s sit you down,” Greg said, and led Mycroft over to the edge of the bath and had him sit down.  Once Mycroft was settled, Greg plugged the sink basin and filled the water from the kettle into it.  He then dug about in a drawer for a moment, until he found what he was looking for.  He removed the lid of the container and scooped out a mound of Vicks rub, and added it to the water, cleaning his hands off when he was done.

The en suite was soon filled with menthol-scented steam, and Greg went and sat down next to Mycroft.  “Alright?” He asked.

Mycroft sniffed again, slightly more productively this time and nodded.  “I should have grabbed another handkerchief,” he said ruefully.

Greg bit his lower lip.  He should have thought of that too.  He didn’t want to open the door and lose any of the steam.  His thoughts were lost when Mycroft suddenly pitched forward, sneezing.

Heh’TSSSCHH! 

Greg just barely caught him.  “Bless you!”

Mycroft sniffled wetly.  “Thank you,” he managed to get out before his voice wavered, and his breath began to hitch.  He quickly cupped his hands around his nose.

Heh…heh’ETCHOO! Huh’Ishoooo!  Heh’TSSSCHH! Hng’ISSH-OOO!

“Bless you!” Greg quickly unrolled a bit of loo roll and handed it to Mycroft.  Mycroft looked at him over his cupped hands with a look of incredulousness.  “Are you serious, Gregory?” His voice was thick with congestion.

Greg rolled his eyes.  “Would you prefer a towel?”

Mycroft reached out for the paper and wiped his dripping nose, pulling a face at the roughness.  “Surely, there is a better alternative?”  He sniffled productively; the menthol was making his nose drip and he was going to need something less abrasive sooner than later.

Greg thought for a second and then smiled, snapping his fingers! “Of course!”

He began to rummage under the sink for a moment and turned around triumphantly, holding several muslin face cloths.  “These are the cloths from that face wash kit Sally got me last year,” he said, handing them over to Mycroft.

Mycroft unfolded one and gently blew his nose.  Greg gave him a moment to do so before speaking again.  “Better?”

“Yes, thank you my dear,” Mycroft said, his voice lightly less stuffy.  He sniffed experimentally, breathing the steam in, now that he was able to breathe more easily.  It was warm, and the menthol tingled his nostrils.  He rubbed his nose with one of the muslin cloths, before accepting he was going to need to blow his nose.  He did so, rendering the cloth unusable.  He set it to the side and picked up the second.

Greg squeezed Mycroft’s dressing gown clad leg.  “I hope this helps a bit.”

“I am su-re,” Mycroft began before his breath began to hitch again and he launched into a fit of sneezes. 

Heh……heh…… Heh’TISSSHH! Ishoooo! Heh’TSCHOOO! Huh’ISHOOO! Heh’ETSCHOO!         AhhhhTISHOOO!

“God bless you, love!” He rubbed gentle circles on Mycroft’s back while the younger man blew his nose once more, clearing out as much congestion as he was able.

“Thank you.  Again, my apologies.” Mycroft sniffed and picked up a fresh muslin cloth, and dabbed at his nostrils.

“Nothing to apologise for, Myc. That’s the whole point of this, you know, to clear out your sinuses a bit”

“And does that mean I should forgo proper manners?” Mycroft rubbed his nose, more forcefully this time and then sneezed harshly.

Heh’TSCH! Huh’ISHOOO! Heh’TSSSCHH! Hng’ISSH-OOO!

“God bless you again,” Greg said, while Mycroft once again tended to his nose.

“Thank you, dearest.” Mycroft closed his eyes, sighing.

Greg frowned, looking his lover over.  Mycroft looked thoroughly worn out.  “OK I think that’s enough for now.”  He stood up, flicked the extractor fan on, turned the shower off and then unplugged the drain.  He reached his hand out to help Mycroft up.

Mycroft took Greg’s warm hand in his.  As he rose, the contents of his sinuses shifted and he gasped out several heady, wet sneezes.

Heh…heh’ETCHOO! Huh’Ishoooo!  Tishooo! TSCHOOO! Heh . . . .Heh. . . . Heh’TSSSCHH! Hng’ISSH-OOO

“Oh love. God bless you!  You poor thing.”  Despite Mycroft’s protests, he pulled the unwell man into his arms and held him a moment.

“Gregory, please,” Mycroft begged, sniffling.

“All right, let’s get you a fresh handkerchief and into bed,” he said, opening the door and leading Mycroft out into the bedroom.

Mycroft immediately sneezed, the cooler air playing havoc on his now less congested sinuses.

Heh’TSCH! Huh’ISHOOO!

“Bless you!” Greg exclaimed, leading Mycroft over to their bed, then grabbed the tissue box, offering over a handful of tissues.  “I’ll get you a handkerchief in a moment.”

“Thank you, dearest.”  Mycroft carefully blew his nose, attempting not to set himself off sneezing again.  He then yawned experimentally and found that he was still unable to hear fully out of his right ear.  That was another problem for another day, he thought.

Greg returned moments later with a fresh handkerchief and a pair of pajamas. Once Mycroft had changed, he went into the ensuite to wash up before bed.  He stood at the sink and looking down, could see thick globs of sticky goo covering the bottom of said sink. 

“Gregory!” He called out, a mixture of amused and annoyed.

“Yeah, love?”

“What is the meaning of this?” Mycroft asked, gesturing to the mess.

“Oh Bugger,” Greg replied.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Oh Ho! Yes, this was as good as billed.  

2 hours ago, cally said:

This also meant that he could no longer stifle his sneezes, lest risk bursting an eardrum, much to his dismay and Greg’s obvious delight. 

hih’TSHOOO! Heh’TSCH! Huh’ISHOOO! TSCHOOO!

“Bless you, love,” Greg said, grinning at Mycroft.

Mycroft, nose buried in his handkerchief, levelled a damp-eyed glare at the detective inspector.  “Must you take such delight in my misery?”

Yes, we all must; it is an imperative. 

 

2 hours ago, cally said:

“I’ve an idea. Maybe it will help.” Greg put down the kettle by the sink and turned on the shower, full on high, the hot water at its max.  He turned off the extractor fan, and the room began to fill with steam.

That's a good idea.  

2 hours ago, cally said:

Greg plugged the sink basin and filled the water from the kettle into it.  He then dug about in a drawer for a moment, until he found what he was looking for.  He removed the lid of the container and scooped out a mound of Vicks rub, and added it to the water, cleaning his hands off when he was done.

Oh and I like this one too.  

 

2 hours ago, cally said:

Mycroft reached out for the paper and wiped his dripping nose, pulling a face at the roughness.  “Surely, there is a better alternative?”  He sniffled productively; the menthol was making his nose drip and he was going to need something less abrasive sooner than later.

Greg thought for a second and then smiled, snapping his fingers! “Of course!”

He began to rummage under the sink for a moment and turned around triumphantly, holding several muslin face cloths.  “These are the cloths from that face wash kit Sally got me last year,” he said, handing them over to Mycroft.

Oh, I love a thinking man. 

2 hours ago, cally said:

“Thank you.  Again, my apologies.” Mycroft sniffed and picked up a fresh muslin cloth, and dabbed at his nostrils.

“Nothing to apologise for, Myc. That’s the whole point of this, you know, to clear out your sinuses a bit”

“And does that mean I should forgo proper manners?” Mycroft rubbed his nose, more forcefully this time and then sneezed harshly.

Heh’TSCH! Huh’ISHOOO! Heh’TSSSCHH! Hng’ISSH-OOO!

“God bless you again,” Greg said, while Mycroft once again tended to his nose.

 

Yes, indeed Mycroft, manners are always at the forefront. You're so cute. 

And in the no good deed goes unpunished department...

2 hours ago, cally said:

He stood at the sink and looking down, could see thick globs of sticky goo covering the bottom of said sink. 

“Gregory!” He called out, a mixture of amused and annoyed.

“Yeah, love?”

“What is the meaning of this?” Mycroft asked, gesturing to the mess.

“Oh Bugger,” Greg replied.

Love you too Greg! 

[Shamaël]

13 hours ago, cally said:

“Must you take such delight in my misery?”

YEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!

13 hours ago, cally said:

“Bless you!” Greg quickly unrolled a bit of loo roll and handed it to Mycroft.  Mycroft looked at him over his cupped hands with a look of incredulousness.  “Are you serious, Gregory?” His voice was thick with congestion.

Mwahahaha!!! I totally picture the scene!

13 hours ago, cally said:

“Thank you.  Again, my apologies.” Mycroft sniffed and picked up a fresh muslin cloth, and dabbed at his nostrils.

“Nothing to apologise for, Myc. That’s the whole point of this, you know, to clear out your sinuses a bit”

“And does that mean I should forgo proper manners?” Mycroft rubbed his nose, more forcefully this time and then sneezed harshly.

Heh’TSCH! Huh’ISHOOO! Heh’TSSSCHH! Hng’ISSH-OOO!

Do you want me to DIE?!? I love when Mycroft points out that he is always polite, no matter how bad he feels.

Thank you for this part! (I couldn't find time to read your AU but rest assured I WILL soon!)

[AngelEyes]

On 10/27/2016 at 4:55 PM, cally said:

Mycroft, nose buried in his handkerchief, levelled a damp-eyed glare at the detective inspector.  “Must you take such delight in my misery?”

Always!

On 10/27/2016 at 4:55 PM, cally said:

“And does that mean I should forgo proper manners?” Mycroft rubbed his nose, more forcefully this time and then sneezed harshly.

Obviously not, it is Mycroft after all!

On 10/27/2016 at 4:55 PM, cally said:

“Gregory!” He called out, a mixture of amused and annoyed.

“Yeah, love?”

“What is the meaning of this?” Mycroft asked, gesturing to the mess.

“Oh Bugger,” Greg replied.

Oops!

I love this! Adorable.

[matilda3948]

On 10/24/2016 at 4:46 PM, cally said:

I've long since finished my thesis, and my viva date is in a little over a month (if anyone was wondering).

OMG!!! YAY!!!!  That's amazing! Good for you, Cally  

And you're drabbles are (of course) marvelous and I adore them...

but to have your thesis done is my favorite thing!!!