Mystrade's Shorts by scw (BBC Sherlock)

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

So I am screwing up my courage and starting a thread of Mystrade short fiction. There has been a dearth of Mystrade and in reading about posting one of the administrators said if you aren't finding what you want maybe you should try to write it yourself. So here I go...

I want to dedicate this thread to Cally, Spoo and bangbang for all the Mystrade they have contributed to the forum and being supportive. I have for the most part adopted their head cannon. You may even find in some of the stories I post references to their previous work.

Please comment--praise as well as constructive criticism is always welcome.

I own nothing, absolutely nothing.

Mornings

‘Cause I love the way you wake me up

For goodness sake will my love not be enough?

--Ed Sheeran, Cold Coffee

The first

Greg awoke in the morning to find Mycroft gone. He felt a bit of disappointment as he had hoped they would have a chance to laze in bed together. He could hear Mycroft moving about in the en suite. Mycroft emerged and smiled Greg.

“Good morning. I’m glad you are awake. The facilities are available. I’ll finish getting ready and meet you downstairs. Tea or coffee this morning?”

Greg blinked. “Uh, yeah, coffee?” He gathered himself and headed into the bathroom.

The second

Greg opened his eyes as Mycroft quietly made his way across the dim room to the en suite. He could tell Mycroft was trying not to sneeze. He had seen this look before. Mycroft’s hand was covering his mouth and his prominent nose was pinched firmly between his thumb and index finger. Greg watched without comment as Mycroft silently stifled three sneezes before disappearing into the bathroom. Once the door was shut Greg could hear Mycroft’s muffled sneezes mixed with the sounds of him showering and shaving.

The third

Greg stirred as he felt Mycroft slip from the bed. “Where are you going?” he mumbled, reaching for his lover.

“Just to the facilities. Go back to sleep,” whispered Mycroft.

“You coming back?” Greg asked, remembering previous mornings. He sat up, blinking.

Mycroft rubbed his nose and sniffed. “No, I’ll go ahead and get ready. Then you can have the bathroom.”

“I’d like you to come back to bed.” Greg smiled seductively.

“I…hih…” Mycroft’s nostrils twitched and he sneezed covering his nose and mouth with his hands. “Hih, hih’Tshoo, TISHOO!” Mycroft ducked into the en suite.

“Bless you!” called Greg. He could hear Mycroft continue to sneeze. Greg debated whether to call out more blessings.

The fourth

Mycroft slowly opened his eyes. The bed was soft and he didn’t feel too warm or too cool. Greg was wrapped firmly around him, spooning from the back. Mycroft felt rather content and hated to move. He knew he couldn’t lie there for too long, but maybe just a bit longer. Mycroft slowly turned over until he faced Greg and smiled. He was unable to resist giving his sleeping partner a gentle kiss. Greg’s eyes fluttered open and he grinned sleepily at Mycroft.

“Good morning, Gregory,” whispered Mycroft.

“Good morning to you, sneezy,” whispered Greg with a glint in his eye.

“Ugh! You are not going to let that go?” huffed Mycroft, flopping on his back.

“Nah, it’s too adorable.” Greg sat up and leaned on his elbow looking down at Mycroft.

“You are absurd. It is not adorable.” Mycroft was blushing and he covered his face with his hands. He wished he had snuck out of bed like he normally did.

“You are adorable. That means everything you do is adorable, including your morning sneezing fits.” Greg bent down and kissed the tip of Mycroft’s nose as it peeked out from between his hands.

“Stop that! You are gong to make it worse.” Mycroft pushed Greg back, sat up and rubbed his nose. He could feel the prickles and tingles build up in his sinuses. Mycroft made to get up and find some privacy in the en suite for the inevitable onslaught.

Greg grabbed his arm. “You don’t have to go in there, “ nodding toward the bathroom. “I’m sure you don’t when you are home alone. Stay. I’ll get the tissue box or one of your handkerchiefs, if you’d rather.

There was something in Greg’s voice that caught Mycroft’s attention, or rather a lack of something. There was no mockery or ridicule, only caring. Mycroft looked at Greg quizzically. “This,” he sniffed, “really doesn’t bother you?”

Greg looked back at Mycroft, just as quizzically, “Not a bit. Why should it?”

Mycroft opened his mouth to reply, instead he only managed to gasp a breath before his face crumpled. Mycroft sneezed into cupped hands. “Hih, hih’Tish, Tish, Tish, Hih, hih’TISHOO!”

“Here you go.” Greg proffered the tissue box. Mycroft nodded his thanks and took several tissues to blow his nose. Clearing his sinuses trigged more sneezes.

“Heh’Etchoo! Etsh! Heh’Etch!”

“God bless you and good morning.” Greg grinned at Mycroft.

Mycroft shook his head and muttered, “Thank you.” He wiped his hands off with a tissue.

Greg chuckled. “Come here.” He guided Mycroft back up the bed until he was leaning against the headboard and Mycroft was leaning against Greg. He kissed the top of Mycroft’s head.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a very long time.” Greg sighed.

“I don’t believe you mean lying in bed with me while I…hih…sn…hih, hih, Hnnchx, Hnnchx, Hnnchx, sneeze.” Mycroft had turned his head and stifled the triple against his wrist.

“Bless you again. The lying in bed with you part I’ve wanted to do. The sneezing is just a bonus.” Greg teased.

“You are ri…hih…ridi…hih...culous.” Mycroft sat up gesturing toward the tissue box, his breath hitching. Greg obliged him. “HIh, hih’Tishoo, Tishoo! Ish, Ish, ISH! Hih’TISHOO! Mycroft gave his nose a decisive blow.

Greg watched as Mycroft sniffed tentatively and gently wiped his nose. “God bless you, My,” Greg said tenderly.

Mycroft turned and observed his lover. Greg gazed adoringly back at him. Mycroft’s eyes widened as a realization hit him. He leaned forward and kissed Greg softly. “I love you too, Gregory.”

FIN

Edited February 23, 2017 by Sanguine Cheerful Worrier

[katy693]

This is so brilliant, thanks very much - your writing is really good! I generally find that I take whatever I can get when it comes to sneezefic, so to have quality writing where someone has taken care is a fantastic added bonus. Not that cally, Spoo and the other guys on this forum aren't excellent as well. I do get a little bit spelling/grammar nazi at times and it can be off putting when reading any old fanfic online

There has been a bit of a Sherlock lull over the past couple of weeks and I was actually thinking the same thing as you. I haven't written any sort of fan fiction since I was in high school but I was considering trying my hand at it and seeing how it went. I look forward to reading more of your work if that's what you choose to do

[cally]

I am so glad you took my advice and posted. I look forward to reading more of these! (Because I'm in uni mode right now, I kept waiting to see a citation like (Cally, drabble thread 1, drabble #45) in there.)

Oh poor Mycroft. I'm so glad that Gregory finally got to give him some loving care.

[Spoo]

First and foremost, congratulations on sharing your writing! That’s never an easy thing to do - especially when you first start out. I’m very proud of you! Secondly, you’re more than welcome to use whatever headcanon/prompt you like (of mine, I should say, because I don’t speak for cally or bangbang ) but please don’t worry about referencing me. Just go with it!

Now then! On with your first drabble~

I really love the atmosphere you set up here and - of course - how sneezy Mycroft is. There’s nothing I adore more than **domestic** Mystrade. It’s so sweet to see them interact outside of their careers, when they’re not heavily invested in their respective occupations. I think you did a fabulous job at capturing this! Greg’s such a tease (and so sweet!), and Mycroft…Mycroft is Mycroft. Though I did like the sneezes he stifled into his wrist (the sound was great!).

I hope you’ll share more soon, scw!

Edited June 26, 2015 by Spoo

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Thank you everyone who commented and everyone who read.

@katy693--So glad you enjoyed it. I promise to do my best with spelling and grammar. My grandmother was an English teacher. She gave me a Strunk and White as a present. Which I know is woefully out of date. I believe I now need a Chicago Manual of Style. If you write some of your own let me know. I'll happily read and comment.

@cally--Maybe there are rules in the Chicago Manual of Style about citing fanfic drabbles? Yes, finally Mycroft gave in and let Greg care for him, and it wasn't so bad. Imagine that?

@Spoo--I'm glad you like the domestic side of things, because that is what I know best and you write what you know. I'm happy you liked the stifles. Here's another fic with stifles.

Corgis

Greg woke suddenly and quickly took stock of his environment. He was in his bed, in his flat. The clock showed it was just past 3 am. Mycroft was..."Hnnnchx, Hnnnchx, Hnnnchx"...sneezing.

Greg got up and found his robe missing. He went to his dresser and found pants and a T shirt. Grabbing some handkerchiefs for good measure he left the bedroom and located his boyfriend sitting on the sofa. It was plain Mycroft was trying to stifle his sneezes by the way he was pinching his nose shut.

"Hey, are you okay?" asked Greg. Mycroft didn't reply. His thumb and index finger gripped his nostrils closed and his palm covered his mouth. His face constricted and his shoulders shook with each sneeze.

"Hnnnchx, Hnnchx, Hnnchoo!"

"Right, not okay. Bless you!" Greg sat next to Mycroft and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Greg held a handkerchief up for Mycroft. The proffered cloth was quickly taken and Mycroft blew his nose.

"Thank you. I'm sorry I woke you."

"Never mind," said Greg. He noticed Mycroft was wearing his robe and the sleeves were too short.

Mycroft's breath started to hitch. "Hnnchx, Hnnchx, Hnn'Ish, Ish, Tish, Hih'TISHOO!" He had given up on stifling.

"Oh, God bless you!" Greg started to rub circles on Mycroft's back and laid the rest of the handkerchiefs on the coffee table within easy reach. Mycroft sighed and wiped his nose carefully. His sneezing had stopped, for the moment.

"Please forgive me," Mycroft started.

"Hush, I don't think you woke up at 3 am and decided now would be a good time to start sneezing. What set you off?"

"I wish I knew. I am allergic to quite a few things, but I've spent time here before without incident." Mycroft dabbed gently at his pink tinged nostrils. "I've not noted any significant changes, other than you have cleaned the flat rather thoroughly." Mycroft glanced at Greg.

Greg blushed. "Well, I was hoping you'd stay. We hadn't seen each other in over a week, since you were...where were you again last week?" Smiling, Mycroft looked sidelong at Greg and shook his head. Greg shrugged. "Could you be allergic to any of the cleaning products?"

"I haven't previously..." Mycroft's voice dropped off and he reached for a fresh handkerchief. "Hehh"Etchoo, Heh'Etch, Etch, Etch, Etchoo!"

"Bless..."

Mycroft shook his head, handkerchief pressed tight to his face and heaved out three more intense, itchy sneezes. "Heh'ETCH! Heh"ETCH! Heh"ETCHOO!" A tear trickled down his cheek and Greg gently wiped it away. He could see Mycroft eyes were starting to swell.

"Bless you. I'm getting you an antihistamine and some water." Greg went to the kitchen and Mycroft took the opportunity of Greg's absence to wipe his eyes and blow his nose. He felt disgusting--sneezy, sniffly, itchy, watery. He just wanted to go home.

Greg came back from the kitchen carrying a glass of water, a bottle of antihistamines and a box of dog biscuits? Mycroft looked at Greg questioningly as he took the water and pills from Greg.

"So, are dogs on your list of allergies?" Greg asked.

"Yes," Mycroft's eyes widened. "Gregory, you don't own a dog." Feeling confused, Mycroft rubbed at his red, watery eyes. He uncapped the antihistamines and swallowed down a pill with a large gulp of water.

"No, I don't. However, my sister does--a corgi named Prince William." Mycroft looked at Greg in horror. "Don't ask. In any case, she had an emergency trip out of town and the kennel was full last week. I kept him for a few days. She actually picked him up this morning."

"But you cleaned..."

"Yeah, I did. Forgot these in the cabinet," Greg gestured at the biscuits. "I also hadn't the chance to get the duvet laundered yet and the little bugger insisted on sleeping with me every night."

Mycroft didn't respond and Greg started to feel a bit anxious until he noticed Mycroft's breath begin to hitch. Mycroft raised the handkerchief to his face and pitched forward into it. "Hih, hih, hnnchx, Hih'Tish! Tish, Ish, Ish, Tishoo! Hih"TISHOO!

"Bless you!" Greg made a decision. "Come on let's get dressed and I'll take you home, yeah?"

Mycroft looked up from his handkerchief, a sneezy expression still hovering over his features, and nodded. "Pl-heh-ease."Mycroft looked so miserable. His eyes were blood shot and his pink nose was twitching like a rabbit's. His eyes fluttered shut as more sneezes burst forth. "Hih'Tish, Ish, Etsh, Etch, Etch, ETCHOO!"

Greg waited as Mycroft tentatively blew his nose and wiped his eyes. Greg's heart ached. He extended his hand and helped Mycroft off the sofa. "Bless you, love. I'm so sorry you feel awful." He pulled Mycroft into a gentle embrace.

Mycroft allowed himself to be held for a moment before he had to pull away. "Hhnnchx, Hhnnchx, Hhnnchx!" He stifled into his shoulder. "I think showers will be in order once we get to my flat."

"Absolutely," smirked Greg as he led them back to the bedroom to get dressed. "After the shower, I'm going to make you the best crepes you have ever had."

Mycroft quirked an eyebrow at Greg, "The best I've ever had?" he sniffed.

"Oh, yes..."

FIN

[bangbang]

Ahhhh! I'm always thrilled to see Mystrade on the boards and I'm really enjoying your drabbles so far.

(As Spoo said, please use any and all of my headcanons/whatever in your writing, I am super happy to share.)

The first one - I really loved the way you laid it out, something about the structure and Mycroft's dawning acceptance of, well, Greg's acceptance, was fantastic.

The second - ohhh man. Poor Mycroft. Those insanely itchy fits and the way he stops being able to stifle. I love how playful they are with each other. And Prince William made me cackle out loud.

(Except now I also want crepes.)

Really looking forward to seeing more of your writing!

[Spoo]

Oh noooo! Poor Mycroft never gets a break (not that anyone around here minds, right?). You did a great job describing his allergy attack (the watery eyes, itchiness) and it was a super cute idea to have him wear Greg's dressing gown. And speaking of Greg, I really like the way you write him!

Can't wait to read more!

[cally]

I think dog biscuits should be the new hay fever remedy. That was so adorable and I loved seeing Mycroft's confusion at the box.

[AngelEyes]

These are fantastic! Lovely sweet Greg. Poor dear Mycroft. So beautiful! So wonderful to come back to a fun new thread after being gone so long!

[katy693]

I'm loving these new drabbles - it's like having my established headcanon (which is kind of like this forums headcanon) but with a twist of something new and exciting. It's nice to get someone else's perspective out on the page. I can't help but feel sorry for Mycroft, but then again he is a rich genius so life can't be all bad

I'm very much looking forward to your update.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Thank you again to all who've been reading!

@bangbang--so glad you liked them! And I'm thrilled Prince William made you laugh. I thought it was funny but you never know what other people will think. Sorry about the crepes.

@Spoo--yeah, I like dressing gowns too. They appear again. Though not in this one.

@cally--you know what they say, hair of the dog. I understand homeopathy is popular in Britain.

@AngelEyes--welcome back! So glad you enjoyed them.

@katy693--glad you find my stories exciting. That is a huge compliment.

I thought that perhaps people might enjoy a little sick!Greg. Sherlock makes an appearance. I hope I get his voice right. Please let me know.

Crime Scene

Mycroft Holmes rolled down the window as his car pulled up to the crime scene. He methodically but swiftly took in the scene before him. Most of the police had finished their work and had quickly left not wanting to spend anymore time in the cold rain. An ambulance sat nearby waiting to collect the body. It was clear they were only waiting on the permission of DI Lestrade. The man in question stood to the side, his coat collar turned up, hands deep in his pockets. Sherlock and John were present. Sherlock had just turned away from the body and was studying the seemingly empty brick wall along side the body. John was holding an umbrella over both of them.

Mycroft glanced back at DI Lestrade. He looked miserable to Mycroft's eyes, though to anyone else DI Lestrade would appear to be standing stoically in the rain. Mycroft could see a slight droop to the inspector's shoulders and the occasional suppressed chill. He was soaked from standing in the rain for the last hour. Hair was plastered to his scalp and water dripped from his nose. Mycroft pressed the button to roll up the window and left the car, deftly opening his umbrella as he did so. His long legs brought him quickly to DI Lestrade's side, his umbrella shielding both of them from the rain.

"Inspector Lestrade," greeted Mycroft.

"Mr. Holmes," returned the inspector.

Mycroft reached into his pocket and removed his handkerchief offering it to Greg. Greg sniffed and started to refuse it. However, his nose had other ideas. As Greg snatched the handkerchief he caught a glimpse of Mycroft's raised eyebrow. Greg buried his face in the cloth and twisted away sneezing violently.

"Huhhrrushoo!" Greg stood still, slightly bent at the waist. "Huhhrrdzchoo!" Greg wiped his nose and pocketed the handkerchief.

"God bless you," murmured Mycroft. Greg turned back toward his benefactor. "Gregory...", started Mycroft.

"Mycroft," warned Greg and Mycroft closed his mouth, his lips thinning a bit. He knew Greg did not enjoy being fussed over when he was ill. He also knew being anything but professional with each other at work was unacceptable. Mycroft looked over at Sherlock and John standing at the wall. He wordlessly handed Greg the umbrella and walked out into the rain toward Sherlock.

"What are you doing here?" queried Sherlock in an exasperated tone when Mycroft reached him. "Go away. Can't you see I am busy?"

"Ah, I would have thought it was obvious, brother mine, what I'm doing here," intoned Mycroft studying the wall with casual concentration. "But you are not observing, are you?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I don't care if I am delaying your dinner plans with Lestrade." He flicked a glare at Mycroft. "You don't need dinner anyway, by the look of you." Sherlock reached out and touched a brick. Mycroft winced inwardly, but didn't rise to the bait.

"DI Lestrade is ill. He has been battling a head cold for three days. You should have observed by now the throat clearing, sniffling and nasal tone in his voice. I want him home and resting. He will not come home until you have finished here." Mycroft's spoke evenly and his eyes never left the brick wall in front of him. Sherlock's brow creased slightly and he glanced behind him at Lestrade who was now blowing his nose into the handkerchief. Sherlock huffed.

"The brick you are looking for is there." Mycroft pointed to an area of the wall just to the left of Sherlock and above eye level.

"Of course, the perpetrator was taller," muttered Sherlock. "Come on, John." Sherlock turned away and strode off.

John turned to Mycroft. "I tried to tell him."

"Of course," replied Mycroft a little tartly.

John shrugged apologetically and hurried after Sherlock. Mycroft walked back Greg just in time to offer another blessing.

"Hehh, hehh'DRSHH!" Greg rubbed at his nose with the handkerchief. "Thanks for this," indicating the cloth.

"You are welcome," Mycroft responded. Greg signaled to the ambulance they could collect the body. "You might want to have your forensics team examine the brick wall."

Greg nodded as his eyes began to flutter and he drew a deep breath. "HuhhrrDZSCHOO!" he thundered.

Mycroft jumped a little. "Bless you, again."

Greg looked up at Mycroft. "You are all wet." He resisted the urge to brush the damp curl off of his lover's forehead.

"Yes, well..."

They looked at each other fondly for a moment, the rain pattering on the umbrella Greg was holding. Greg coughed dryly.

"I am going home to dry off," said Mycroft. "I don't expect you to take any longer than an hour before you join me."

"Sounds about right," Greg agreed hoarsely. Frowning, he cleared his throat.

"I'll have tea and a hot bath ready for you." Mycroft touched Greg's arm. "Please, keep the umbrella."

Without another word Mycroft returned to his waiting car and drove away. Greg watched him leave with a small smile on his lips.

FIN

[Spoo]

I don't ever get tired of sick!Greg in the rain for some reason; it's a trope that doesn't get old for me! In any case, I really like the scene you painted here, and the descriptions of Greg standing back, full of cold, yet still doing his job (someone please convince Gatiss and Moffat to write this into season 4!!).

Mycroft giving Greg his umbrella - and leaving without it! - was very very sweet thing (his poor suit though ). I have a lot of warm, fuzzy feelings about this and am so glad you started a drabble thread.

[matilda3948]

Oh, these are marvelous!!! I haven't been add active lately and so I missed these. Like Spoo, I don't think there could ever be enough ill Gregory in the rain.

[cally]

Oh, poor Gregory. He sounds absolutely miserable, the poor lamb. I hope that he is well fussed over and taken care of when he gets home.

#RIPMycroftssuit

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Thank you everyone who has been reading. Can't believe there are over 200 views!

@matilda3948--Welcome back! I'm glad you are enjoying my silly stories.

@Spoo--One can hope for a sick Greg in the rain for season 4. You could tweet Mark. Don't ask, don't get! You and cally about the suit!

@cally--Y'all crack me up worrying about Mycroft's suit. You know Greg is worth at least 10 of his suits and umbrellas. Whatever it takes to get him home.

Now cally has seen this one.

This is my take on Mycroft getting the wrong flowers. Feel free to critique.

Valentine's Day

Mycroft Holmes did not pay much attention to holidays. He understood their importance to others so he sent the obligatory Christmas cards and wished people "Happy New Year". He ignored Valentine's Day. Only a handful of times did he have anyone to spend it with and none of those times were memorable.

This Valentine's Day is different, Mycroft mused. He and DI Lestrade, Gregory, had been dating (courting? seeing each other? shagging?) for the past six weeks. They planned to have dinner together this evening. Mycroft had booked a table at a lovely, intimate restaurant and arranged for a bottle of 1998 Dom Perignon P2 Brut to be chilled and ready when they arrived.

At this moment though, Mycroft was concerned he would not be very good company. Mycroft sighed and blew his nose again with little result. He returned to reading the documents in front of him. The quiet of his office broken by his frequent congested sniffling. A few minutes later his mobile chirped. Engrossed in his reading, Mycroft picked up his phone blindly and answered.

"Mycroft Holmes", Mycroft frowned at the raspiness of his voice.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" came Gregory's cheery greeting.

"And the same to you, Gregory," replied Mycroft with a smile.

"So ...notice anything different about your office?" Queried Greg in a knowing tone.

"Oh yes. Almost immediately." Mycroft quietly tried to clear his throat. He gazed across the room to the farthest corner from his desk. There on a small table sat two dozen of the most spectacular roses Mycroft had ever seen, and the sight made his eyes itch and water. The roses were a deep crimson and every bloom was perfect. They smelled heavenly. At least they did the first three minutes that Mycroft could smell after walking into his office.

Mycroft could feel his nose begin to drip. He reached for his handkerchief and carefully wiped the damp away. This time the touch of the soft cloth was too much for his sensitive nostrils. He pulled the phone away from his face as he muffled three wet sneezes into the confines of his handkerchief.

"Hih'Tishoo, Hih'shoo, Hih'shoo! Oh, excuse me."

"Bless you! Are you coming down with another cold?" Greg asked worriedly. "I thought your voice sounded a little off."

"No, not at all. I am perfectly well."

"Well? You sound sniffly and congested," challenged Greg. "It's okay if you don't feel good. We can take a rain check..."

"No," Mycroft interrupted. "I am not ill. There is no reason to cancel our plans. I ah-ah assure you. Hih'tshoo, Hih'Tish, Tish, Tish, Hiiih'Tishoo!" The sneezes kept sneaking up on him.

"Bless you again. If you are not sick, then why do you keep sneezing?" There was a moment of silence and Greg could hear Mycroft trying to quietly blow his nose. "Oh bloody hell, you are allergic to them!" Mycroft cleared his throat, but did not speak. "Why are they still in your office if they are making you miserable?" Greg said angrily. He was mostly mad at himself. He thought he had done well by not buying chocolates. Instead he was making a wreck of their Valentine's Day.

Mycroft felt his temper rise in response to Greg's rough tone. "It is the most stunning bouquet I have ever encountered. Not only that, I have never been sent flowers, much less two dozen roses, and they are from the most marvelous man I have ever met!"

There was silence from the other end of the line. Mycroft sniffed lightly, a little chagrined about his outburst. Greg said calmly, "Who are you and what have you done with my unsentimental boyfriend?"

Relief washed through Mycroft and he chuckled. "You are right. I am being ridiculous. I will have Anthea remove them, ah-Hih'Tishoo, Hih'Tishoo, Hih-Hih'Tishoo! At once." M frowned. His handkerchief had become quite damp.

"Bless you, My. Nice to have you back. Have Anthea bring you an antihistamine as well." Greg's voice was suffused with gentle warmth.

"That would not be amiss," agreed Mycroft. And more handkerchiefs he thought to himself.

"Mycroft, I'm really sorry." Greg offered sincerely. "I didn't ..."

"Of course you didn't. I am fine." Mycroft reassured his partner. "I will have the car pick you up at seven?"

"Right. Now I'll call the florist and cancel the boutonnières I ordered."

Mycroft hung up laughing, confident this Valentine's Day was going to be wonderful.

FIN

[Spoo]

Oh, I love this one! Greg is so sweet. He definitely strikes me as a very doting boyfriend who loves giving Mycroft thoughtful tokens of his affection. Only this time it was something Mycroft's allergic to! Oh noooooo.

I joked with bangbang earlier today that it'd be funny if Greg gave Mycroft a bouquet of FAKE flowers and sprayed them with one of the few colognes that doesn't trigger Mycroft's allergies. That way Mycroft still gets flowers, hehe.

I still think you're doing a great job at characterization and overall writing, but I will offer some critique for you! In Greg's dialogue it seems more fitting of his speaking patterns (from what we've seen in the show) to have him speak with contractions consistently. Mycroft is a bit more posh and definitely doesn't use them as much, but Greg would probably say "You're" instead of "You are" (which I see that you've done before, but sometimes he speaks without contractions and it feels a little off).

This is, of course, entirely my opinion and you're no way obligated to change your writing practices. I just figured I'd offer it up anyway. Great work, though! I'm enjoying your drabbles so much.

Edited July 2, 2015 by Spoo

[bangbang]

^YUP. We were trying to figure out ways that Greg could express his luuuurve without making Mycroft suffer. Fake flowers for next year, Greg!

I loved both these last two drabbles - Mycroft is so stoic and Greg is just an adorable puppy as always.

[AngelEyes]

"Oh yes. Almost immediately." Mycroft quietly tried to clear his throat

LOL!

"Oh bloody hell, you are allergic to them!" Mycroft cleared his throat, but did not speak. "Why are they still in your office if they are making you miserable?" Greg said angrily

I can absolutely picture this. The dawning realization on his face, and then the exasperation. Perfect!

Greg said calmly, "Who are you and what have you done with my unsentimental boyfriend?"

Ha!

These two. Such a pair! I love it!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

I still think you're doing a great job at characterization and overall writing, but I will offer some critique for you! In Greg's dialogue it seems more fitting of his speaking patterns (from what we've seen in the show) to have him speak with contractions consistently. Mycroft is a bit more posh and definitely doesn't use them as much, but Greg would probably say "You're" instead of "You are" (which I see that you've done before, but sometimes he speaks without contractions and it feels a little off).

This is, of course, entirely my opinion and you're no way obligated to change your writing practices. I just figured I'd offer it up anyway. Great work, though! I'm enjoying your drabbles so much.

I totally agree with you! I went back to read the others I posted and the "you are" is one I particularly forget to make into a contraction. I have to admit I find Mycroft's dialogue a little easier to write. I have had to go back and "dumb down" Greg's dialogue at times. Not that Greg is dumb, but he just wouldn't use some of the words I originally write for him. That said, I'm working on the next one, specifically the contractions. And John's voice. Tricky, 'cause I took the test (you know, the which Sherlock character are you) and apparently I'm Watson, but I can't make him sound like me.

Please keep the constructive comments coming!

@AngelEyes-- Thank you so much for your comment! When I get an idea for a story it is often just a picture or a line I think a character would say and then I build from there. You picked out exactly the things that started this story and that pleases me to no end!

Ok the next story is done, but needs a little polish. Hang tight because this time Mycroft is sick and in denial.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Thank you to everyone who reads and special thanks to those that comment.

House Call

Greg entered Mycroft's study without knocking and stood by the door.

"No, we have already discussed this," said Mycroft without looking up from the file he was contemplating.

"And I told you I didn't find any of your arguments vaild," Greg retorted.

Mycroft raised his head. Greg winced at the sight of his partner's face. Mycroft was pale with dark circles ringing his eyes. His nose was pink and slightly chapped. There was a puffiness to his cheeks. Mycroft sniffed and rubbed absently at his nose. "I do not have time. I am leaving in two days and I need to be prepared," he insisted.

Greg refrained from commenting that Mycroft was probably already more prepared than anyone else. "You have been sick for a month."

"I am not ill. It is my ah-ah allergies." Mycroft reached for the handkerchief on the desk. He did not bother trying to stifle the sneezes. He knew it would just antagonize Greg and it made his head ache even more. "Hih, hih'Tishoo, Tishhoo, Isshh, Isshh, Hih'TISHOO!" Mycroft sat back for a moment after the fit feeling a bit dizzy.

"Bless you." Greg's tone was flat, but he left the doorway and walked over to Mycroft sitting at the desk. Mycroft looked up at Greg. "Please, My." Warm brown eyes pleading met Mycroft's watery blues. "I really don't want to go through another experience like after the Berlin conference."

Mycroft looked away and rubbed his forehead. He sighed. "I believe you are exaggerating the situation," he said wearily.

"Fine. Then let's get a third opinion, a professional opinion," Greg pushed.

Mycroft acquiesced. "I'll have Anthea arrange an appointment for me on Monday before I leave."

"John is downstairs with his bag, right now." Greg wasn't giving an inch.

Mycroft leaned back against his office chair and closed his eyes. He did not want to fight. He opened his eyes and glared. "You have fifteen minutes and then I am back to work." Mycroft stood and reached for his suit jacket.

Greg was uncowed. "Leave it. John's going to examine you."

Mycroft rolled his eyes and left it and his used handkerchief behind. He exited the room and Greg followed him out and down the stairs.

John was in the drawing room perusing the bookcase along the far wall. Mycroft walked in and greeted him. "Dr Watson, John, thank you for coming. I apologize for Gregory insisting you come over. I am fine, just struggling a bit with my allergies."

John glanced at Greg, who was glowering at Mycroft. "Well," John replied, returning his gaze to Mycroft. "It's no trouble. I don't mind doing a favor for a friend," looking pointedly back at Greg. Turning his attention again to Mycroft, John commented, "Besides, Sherlock thought you wouldn't even speak with me. So, I've just won ten quid." Mycroft looked nonplussed.

"C'mon," John gestured toward the sofa. "Let's take a look at you."

"I really do not..." Mycroft trailed off. He could feel his sinuses start to prickle and he crossed the room to the sofa, or more particularly, to the coffee table where the tissue box sat. He quickly snatched a handful from the box and turned away.

"Hih, hih, hin'Tishoo, hih'tish, hih'tish..."

"Bless..." started John. Greg shook his head as Mycroft continued to sneeze helplessly.

"Tisshh, Tisshh, Hih'Tisshhoo, Hih'TISSHHOO!"

Greg gently guided Mycroft to the sofa and encouraged him to sit.

"Bless you, Mycroft!" You sound worse than Sherlock after he has seen a cat," John exclaimed.

Mycroft carefully blew his tender nose. "Quite," he said frostily. John just smiled and seated himself on the coffee table across from Mycroft. Greg planted himselft in the wingback chair nearby.

"Greg has given me a bit of history, so I won't trouble you with too many questions." John efficiently opened his bag and extracted a thermometer, blood pressure cuff and stethoscope. He quickly popped the thermometer in Mycrofts mouth and placed the blood pressure cuff around his upper arm. The thermometer chimed and John reclaimed it. "Mmm. Low grade temp." He then took Mycroft's blood pressure. He removed the cuff and checked Mycroft's pulse. "So how long have you been taking decongestants?"

Mycroft looked a little surprised at John. "About 3 weeks now. How did you know?' Mycroft risked a glance at Greg. Mycroft had thought he had been subtle in his medication use. Not hiding it, but not being obvious. Greg gave Mycroft a measured look.

"I didn't know," smirked John. "I deduced it based on your blood pressure and pulse. Both of which are high by the way." Greg sat up straighter in his chair and a look of disapproval crossed his features.

John moved on to finish his exam. He listened to Mycroft's heart and lungs. Putting away his stethoscope, John got out his otoscope to check Mycroft's ears and throat.

"There is a lot of fluid behind your eardrums. And I see you've had your tonsils out. You have a bit of drainage as well. Besides the decongestants are you taking any other medications?"

"Just ibuprofen, antihistamines, guaifenesin and a nasal steroid," replied Mycroft deciding to brazen it out. Greg shook his head in disbelief.

John began to palpate Mycroft's lymph nodes noting they were enlarged. John believed they were also tender since there was some tightening around Mycroft's eyes and mouth as his lymph nodes were examined. John reached up to tap Mycroft's sinuses and Mycroft started to pull away. Greg cleared his throat and gave Mycroft a hard look. Mycroft sat still and John firmly tapped on Mycroft's forehead eliciting a slight quiver of his mouth. John then tapped each cheekbone. Mycroft grunted and closed his eyes, trying not to wince in pain.

"Bit sore there then?" questioned John.

"Yes," agreed Mycroft. He could feel the mucus shift in his sinuses and suddenly he was grabbing the tissues.

"Hih'TISHOO! Hih'TISSHH! TISSHH! TISSHH! TISHOO!"

The sneezes were wet and productive. Mycroft quickly wiped his nose and snatched another handful of tissues. He blew his nose, grimacing at the quantity of phlegm. It took several blows and most of the tissues in the box to clear his sinuses.

"God bless you, love." Mycroft looked up to see Greg standing by with the bin and a fresh box of tissues. Greg swept the used tissues into the bin and helped himself to the hand sanitizer John had pulled from his bag. Mycroft gave his nose a final swipe and availed himself to the hand sanitizer as well.

"My apologies,"Mycroft said softly. He felt embarrassed.

"No, it's alright. You can't help it. You have quite the sinus infection," replied John.

Mycroft's posture sagged a bit. Greg rested his hand on Mycroft's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"It may have started as allergies, but now you need antibiotics, fluids and rest," continued John. "You can keep taking all your other medications, but the decongestants. You need to stop those. I suggest steam and nasal saline rinses instead."

"I do not have time for this," muttered Mycroft into his hands.

"You've the rest of the weekend," murmured Greg. "Give yourself a break and a chance to recover." He rubbed Mycroft's back.

John listened to the exchange as he repacked his bag. It was clearly an old argument. John really did not want to interject himself into this debate, but seeing how Mycroft was his patient, for the moment. "Mycroft, you can't take care of anyone else, including the free world, until you take care of yourself."

Mycroft picked up his head and looked at John. "Thank you, John. I appreciate your assistance and advice," he replied. His tone was civil, but John knew when he was being dismissed.

"Yes, well, following said advice would be thanks enough." John gave Mycroft a stern look and stood.

Greg showed John out and they determined to which chemist to call the prescription. When Greg returned to the drawing room, he found Mycroft had cracked into the new box of tissues and was sneezing viciously.

"Oh, bless you," Greg said sympathetically.

"Heh, heh'Tchoo! Hih'TIshoo! Hih'Tisshh, Hih'Tisshh, Hih, Hih'TISCHOO!"

"And again." Greg felt sorry for his lover. There was a vaguely defeated air about him.

Mycroft threw the used tissues in the nearby bin. "Just don't say it," he sighed.

"Wouldn't dream of it, love." Greg sat next to Mycroft on the sofa and put his arms around Mycroft's shoulders. "Don't worry. You will feel better on Monday, just in time to save the world." Greg kissed him on the cheek.

Mycroft smiled. "It really is a conference on public transportation and its impact on developing nations."

"Whatever you say dear," agreed Greg.

[AngelEyes]

"And I told you I didn't find any of your arguments vaild," Greg retorted.

I love when Greg gets stubborn and pushy with Mycroft.

"Bless you." Greg's tone was flat, but he left the doorway and walked over to Mycroft sitting at the desk. Mycroft looked up at Greg. "Please, My." Warm brown eyes pleading met Mycroft's watery blues. "I really don't want to go through another experience like after the Berlin conference."

Definitely doesn't need a repeat of that situation poor baby.

"Hih, hih, hin'Tishoo, hih'tish, hih'tish..."

"Bless..." started John. Greg shook his head as Mycroft continued to sneeze helplessly.

"Tisshh, Tisshh, Hih'Tisshhoo, Hih'TISSHHOO!"

Greg gently guided Mycroft to the sofa and encouraged him to sit.

"Bless you, Mycroft!" You sound worse than Sherlock after he has seen a cat," John exclaimed.

I love this part. I totally have a thing for when someone starts to bless someone but they aren't finished with the fit. And Greg just shaking his head, knowing it wasn't over. Mmmmm. And the reference to Sherlock and cats. Fantastic!

"I do not have time for this," muttered Mycroft into his hands.

Poor baby!

Mycroft threw the used tissues in the nearby bin. "Just don't say it," he sighed.

So defeated.

"Don't worry. You will feel better on Monday, just in time to save the world." Greg kissed him on the cheek.

Mycroft smiled. "It really is a conference on public transportation and its impact on developing nations."

"Whatever you say dear," agreed Greg.

LOL!

[Juto]

Aw www this was so sweet!! I'm totally into Mystrade now... I blame you!! It's a timestealer.

*scowls at you* shame on you! Uhm... Please do more??

[cally]

Funny, Mycroft and I are on the same regimen, minus the guaifenesin. He clearly has better luck than I do. I'm clearly just jealous.

[Spoo]

Omg, this one was adorable! I loved the inclusion of John (you wrote him just fine ). Mycroft can be so stubborn, but I'm glad Greg is determined and persistent (we really don't want another Berlin incident happening!) This bit was my favorite:

Mycroft picked up his head and looked at John. "Thank you, John. I appreciate your assistance and advice," he replied. His tone was civil, but John knew when he was being dismissed.

"Yes, well, following said advice would be thanks enough." John gave Mycroft a stern look and stood.

It's so in character and hilarious! Mycroft being dismissive it just a thing (he literally shooed Greg out of his office in the third season, haha) and John holding his ground and giving smart little quips is so him. Really enjoyed this one, scw!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

@AngelEyes-- I'm thrilled to have hit on so many of your favorite things. I hope you find some more in this one

@Juto07ab--Welcome to the club! So glad to have been a corrupting influence. I hope you have sought out the Mystrade fanfiction and drabble threads written by others on the forum because there are some really amazing stories. I'll say again cally, Spoo, bangbang were the writers on this forum that got me started on Mystrade. If you haven't read Berlin by bangbang please do. You'll understand why Greg (and the rest of us) gets so anxious about Mycroft getting sick. I hope you enjoy this one.

@cally--Sorry to make you jealous. Ok, not really, because I think this one will make you even more jealous.

@Spoo--Thank you! That part you quoted was the part on which I worked the hardest and I'm really pleased it worked out the way it did.

Thanks again to everyone who reads and enjoys. I appreciate all comments. Each one is precious to me. Ok, this is my take on Mycroft using a nasal steroid.

Games

Mycroft scowled at the strange shaped bottle with the large green cap and heaved a sigh. It was the latest weapon in his arsenal against his allergies. His doctor had suggested adding it over a month ago. Mycroft had balked; not at all liking the idea of spraying anything up his nose. In theory he was just putting the medicine exactly where it needed to be. But his nasal passages rejected so much that tried to penetrate them; it just seemed counterintuitive. Recently his allergies had worsened making the itchy eyes and ears intolerable, the sniffling and sneezing interminable, and, the final straw, he had started to snore! Mycroft finally broke down and began using the nasal spray about a week ago.

Greg passed by the doorway of the bathroom and peered in. "You coming to bed?" He saw Mycroft staring at the bottle. "Oh...I'll just leave you to it then. I'll be in bed if you need me." Mycroft nodded without speaking and Greg hurried away.

Mycroft had to admit the spray worked. The itchy eyes and ears were a thing of the past. The sniffling and sneezing was improved, though not eliminated. At least he had cut down on the number of handkerchiefs he used in a day. The snoring, according to Greg, was all but gone. But everything had a price and the medication was not without its side effects. Mycroft found that within a few minutes of administration he was beset with the worst sneezing fits he had ever experienced. Every night for the past week Mycroft would take his antihistamine and use the spray. Then he would sit on the bed and sneeze and sneeze and sneeze. It was like he was getting out all the sneezes he hadn't had earlier in the day or maybe it was pre-emptive sneezing for the next day. He would eventually stop and go to sleep exhausted and dizzy.

Mycroft sighed again and took a tissue to blow his nose in preparation. He uncapped the bottle. Holding the bottle in his left hand and closing the right nostril he inserted the tip deep into his left nostril. He breathed in and breathed out activating the spray as he breathed again. He could feel it coating the inside of his nose and sinuses. A faint rose scent filled the air as he breathed out through his mouth. A second spray on the left and he repeated the process on the right. Mycroft wiped off the tip of the bottle and recapped it. He picked up the box of tissues and carried them out to the bedroom.

Greg was in bed reading. He looked up and over his glasses he watched Mycroft cross the room toward him. Mycroft sat down on his side of the bed and waited. Greg put down his book and took off his glasses.

"Want to make a game of it?"

Mycroft looked at him askance. "What kind of game could you possibly make of this?" He could feel the medicine start to drip down his throat. He took a drink from the water glass on his bedside table.

"My mum always tried to make a game out of any unpleasant task or chore. I thought we could do the same." Greg shifted to sit closer to Mycroft. "Let's bet on how many sneezes. Whoever is closest without going over wins."

"Wins what?" Mycroft huffed.

"Hmmm...a trip to Paris?" Mycroft gave Greg a withering look. "No? Well, how about the loser makes tea in the morning?" Mycroft could feel the prickling and tickling in his nose start to build. Greg could see Mycroft's nostrils start to quiver. "Time to place your bet." Greg said encouragingly.

"Fi-ih-ine, 45."

Greg grabbed a pen and pad from the bedside table and wrote down 45. "I bet 38." Mycroft's breath was starting to hitch and the tickling in his sinuses grew fierce. Greg noted 38 next to his name. He looked expectantly at Mycroft. Mycroft rolled his eyes at Greg and reached for a handful of tissues. "Let the sneezing begin," announced Greg. Mycroft's eyelids began to flutter. His head tipped back as he inhaled deeply and then it snapped forward with a barrage of itchy sneezes.

"Hehhh... Hih... Hih'Tishoo! Hih'Tish! Ish! Ish! Heh'etchoo!"

"Bless you, love. That's five."

"Are you really going to sit there and count?" Mycroft sniffed and pressed tissues to his nostrils.

"Well, somone has to keep track. I think you will be too busy." Mycroft made a noncommittal noise in response and stifled three rapid sneezes. "That's eight. Don't stifle. That's cheating. You know it just makes you sneeze more." Greg ticked off the count on the pad. He got up and brought the bin over to Mycroft. Nodding his thanks, Mycroft tossed the used paper in the bin.

"Cheating? That's hah-absurd." Mycroft closed his eyes and took a slow deep breath trying to quell the tingling in his nares.

Greg stood In front of him, arms folded and trying to look stern. "You are trying to hold them back. How is THAT not cheating? You are so competitive. The only reason your allergies are as bad as they are is to show up your brother."

Mycroft's eyes flew open and his eyebrows shot up. "That is the most ludicrous statesment I have ever heh-heh-heard."

Greg smirked with a gleam in his eye. "Gotcha to stop holding back." True enough, Mycroft found his breathing begin to stutter and his nostrils were quivering. Like tiny butterflies the sneezes tickled and fluttered through his sinuses. He blindly reached for the tissue box, but Greg got there first and pulled a handful of tissues to give to Mycroft.

Heh... Heh... Hih... Hiiih'TCHOOO! Heh'Etchoo! Etsh! Heh'Etsh! Hih'Tish!"

"God bless..."

"Hih'Tish! Hih'Tish! Heh'Etsh! Etsh! Ishoo!"

Greg sat next to Mycroft and put his arm around Mycroft's shoulders. Mycroft shuddered in Greg's embrace. The sneezing was relentless and Mycroft could barely catch a breath between expulsions.

"Poor dear," whispered Greg tenderly.

"Hih'Tish, Tishoo! Hih-hih-hih'Tish, Ish, Ish, Etshoo! Heh'EFTSHOO!"

Mycroft leaned against Greg for a moment after the last sneeze. The sodden tissues were still cupped around his buzzing nose. A soft groan escaped his lips.

"Bless you again and again." Greg kissed Mycroft's temple. "I told you not to stifle, and holding them back didn't help either," he said gently.

Mycroft wiped his nose and threw away the wet mess. "Were you able to keep track?" He asked breathlessly.

Greg rolled his eyes. "I knew you would ask." He glanced at the notepad and counted them up. "Twenty-five, total. You really are too competitive."

"It was your idea to make it into a game. It is my nature to try to win," sniffed Mycroft. He could fell his nose start to tingle again and reached for more tissues.

Greg took note of Mycroft's twitching, pink nostrils. "Do you feel another sneezing fit coming on?" Mycroft nodded. His gaze had become unfocused and his mouth opened slightly.

"Hih'Tishoo! Hih'Tish, Tish, Tish, Hiiih'Tishoo!"

"That makes thirty. Bless you, by the way."

Myrcroft's only response was to resume his erratic breathing as more sneezes tumbled out of his beleaguered nose.

"Hih... Hih... Heh'Etchoo! Heh'Etch! Etsh, Ish, Etshoo!" Greg lay a comforting hand on Mycroft's back. "Hih'Tish! Heh'Etsh! Hih'Tish! Mycroft sat hunched on the edge of the bed. His breath coming in small gasps but no more sneezes came forth. He rubbed at his nose desperately trying to get the itching to stop.

Mycroft sat up. "Oh for pity's sake," he muttered. He tossed the used tissues forcefully in the bin.

"Thirty-eight! I win!" crowed Greg.

Mycroft glared at Greg. "I am not done. They ah-are stuck. It's driving me ma-ah-mad."

"Ha! Poor baby." Teased Greg. He leaned over, brushing his lips delicately over Mycroft's flaring nostrils, he placed a small kiss on the tip of that beloved, sensitive nose. Mycroft barely had time to lean away befor sneezing openly at the floor.

"Heh'ETSHOO!"

Greg pulled a handful of tissues from the box and pressed them into Mycroft's hand. "Bless you! Thirty-nine."

Mycroft pressed the tissues to his gaping nostrils as more sneezes began to work their way out. "Ah-hih'tish, Tish, Etshoo! Etchoo! Heh'Eftshoo!" Mycroft sniffed. "Apologies," he mumbled.

Greg shrugged. "Bless you, love. I knew the risks. I still win, by the way. That's only forty-four."

Mycroft hadn't moved, tissues swaddling his nose, he took a sharp breath and sneezed three more times, rapidly and violently. "Hehhh'ETCHOO! ETSHOO! Hehh' ETSHOO!" He blew his nose and threw away the used tissues. "Forty-seven. I believe I win."

Greg gaped at him and then began to chuckle. "God bless you, My." Mycroft gave Greg a sly smile.

Mycroft picked up the bin and returned it to its rightful place. He then went to the en suite and washed his hands. Greg had pulled back the duvet and turned off the lights by the time Mycroft returned. He beckoned Mycroft to join him in bed. Mycroft climbed in and made himself comfortable snuggled up against Greg's side, resting his cheek against Greg's chest. Greg slowly ran his fingers through Mycroft's hair. Mycroft yawned widely. "You think we can play again tomorrow?" He asked sleepily.

Greg kissed the top of Mycroft's head. "Yes, but I'm going to work on the rules."

FIN