Look, Sherlock gave me a football! Now I can get out for a match with the lads.
Gregory... (Mycroft takes Greg's hand) I urge you to let me have any gift of Sherlock's thoroughly inspected and disinfected before you touch it. You know how he is.
True. He'd probably think being covered in blood at a crime scene made a gift more special.
Later...
M: Now, before you go out on the ... is it called a field?
G: Sure, that's fine.
M: I insist you eat a light but healthy meal. Here's a charcuterie platter, plenty of protein, and a green salad.
G: Aw, Myc, you take such good care of me.
G: But what's this over here? Biscuits! Lots of types, too.
M: Of course you want to eat dessert first.
G: I insist we share. Here's a heart-shaped one from me to you.
One day, Mycroft is in his office, reading the paper and having a cuppa.
He hears a muffled thud on the door. "Come in?"
Greg staggers in, carrying something that appears heavy.
"Sorry for the noise, hands were full."
He gently drops it on the table.
"Whew, that was heavier than I thought." Greg wipes his brow as Mycroft sets down his paper and comes over to take a look.
"What is this?"
"Well," Greg replies, as he sits down on the sofa. "Since 'm spending more time here, thought I'd help decorate. Actually, saw it and thought of you, as it's got crowns and looks like the city. And there's a bit of a story behind it."
"It's a lovely piece. You didn't need to gift me anything, but I am grateful. And I would enjoy hearing the story." Mycroft gets Greg a cup of tea before settling in next to him.
"Alright. See, there was this shop with all kinds of odd art, and I kept going by, but that sort's not cheap, y'know? I'd finally decided I liked it enough -- and thought you'd like it -- to plunk down the dosh. I opened the door, and this bloke cannoned into me. I stopped him, and it turns out he was a thief! The shop owner was grateful, and when I mentioned I was interested in this piece, gave it to me. So it was a gift to me, and 'm passing it along."
"How fortuitous! I shall appreciate it all the more -- and of course, you must visit it frequently to ensure I am taking proper care of it."
Am I bothering you too much? I'cn come round less often.
Oh, no, no, as I was going to say... given your time, and that you've even begun leaving your, hrm, sporting accoutrements here, I thought it was about time you have a key.
Oh! Well, thank you. That's quite a lot of trust, to give me unaccompanied access to your ... wait, why do you call this an office when you don't have a desk?
I was wondering how long it would take you to notice that.
(And the author steps in because I want you to notice that Mycroft now has a proper pocket watch.)
G: Brought you a present, Mycroft, to continue building your library. (Greg drops the case on the coffee table, as gently as possible given its weight.)
M: Oh, more books! Ah, I see, dedicated to the works of my brother, very funny.
Greg pretends to cover a cough as he laughs.
G: That's just a joke, love. Your real gift is underneath.
M: Oh, my childhood favorites!
G: It's the complete set of Winnie the Pooh books, including the poetry.
(Greg puts his arm around Mycroft as Mycroft puts his hands to his mouth in pleasant surprise.)
(The two settle in on the sofa, with Mycroft reading a favorite piece to Greg.)
Greg's gift was such a success that Mycroft and Greg have begun making a habit of taking a tea break together. Greg gets off his feet while Mycroft reads a poem or two out loud.
Until one day... Sherlock storms in.
"Really, this is how a member of Scotland Yard and the British Government choose to spend their time, reading children's stories to each other?"
Greg jumps to his feet as Mycroft puts the book down and looks away from his annoying little brother.
Upon seeing that Mycroft has retreated to his umbrella as something to hold between him and the incursion, Greg pokes Sherlock in the chest. "Sunshine, what we do together is none of your business."
Then it strikes him. Sherlock just might be jealous. "Want to join us?"
Sherlock sits next to Greg on the sofa as Mycroft starts another poem.
Li'l Mystrade Pack for a Trip and Encounter a Surprise
Mycroft: Hmmm... not sure there's enough...
Greg: What are you up to?
M: Isn't it obvious? I'm packing!
G: We're going for a weekend, love.
M: Yes.
G: All this for a couple of days?
M: Yes.
G: Four books?
M: Yours, mine, my backup, and the one I'm reading to you.
G: Laptop, phone, AND tablet?
M: The requirements of the role, my dear.
G: The papers?
M: Same.
G: The food?
M: We have higher standards than most transport companies. And you do like your snacks.
G: I do.
Greg: Here, don't forget these.
Mycroft: ...
G: They're multi-purpose! If your brother shows up and wants me to arrest someone. If your brother shows up and is bored. If your brother doesn't show up...
M: Yes. Well. Perhaps once we're in our hotel room.
Mycroft: Packing is so tiring.
Greg: There there. Put the phone down and show me the hotel again on your tablet.
M: It will be lovely once we're there, won't it?
And so it was. Snacks, drinks, Cluedo and relaxing together.
The yarn boys are very very tired today (as is their office manager). Mycroft is so tired he thinks he's hallucinating his work self looking out for them.
But they had a scary difficult conversation about shared keys and know they're all the stronger together for it. They deserve a bit of a rest.
Li'l Mycroft and his yarn friends wish everyone a very Happy Holidays -- from Li'l Mycroft, Li'l Lestrade, and the Li'l Holmes Brothers. (Li'l Sherlock is so excited his hair is trying to take off.)