Dark Side (Secret Santa for Cally--BBC Sherlock/Mystrade)

[AngelEyes]

“Bugger,” he muttered. Reaching down under the duvet, Mycroft pulled the hideous socks off his feet. His lover could charm his way out of a snake den with his smile, he thought. Now he would never escape Gregory’s grandmother’s foul foot rub.

LOL!

Greg watched the younger man from across the room. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection for his lover. Mycroft was sitting up in bed in rumpled pajamas; his hair mussed, with that silly curl in the middle of his forehead; his prominent nose wrinkled and twitched; his breath was coming in fits and starts as his sneezes teased him.

Gorgeous image. I would watch that all day. Well at least as long as I could manage to keep my hands to myself....

“Do n-neh-not touch my neh-nose.” Mycroft tried to glare at Greg, but couldn’t quite manage it. His eyelids kept twitching shut.

LOL

“And don’t forget there’s Gram’s foot rub.” Greg sounded positively gleeful.

“I will not submit to that foul substance, again.” Mycroft scowled at Greg.

“Hmm…we’ll see.” Greg smiled winningly.

I have a serious affection for Gram.

Mycroft paused by the door listening to Greg sing. He couldn’t help the smile that played across his face. He slipped into the bathroom, ready to start his day and ready to be loved.

Awwwww!!!!

[Juto]

Awwww yes!! I finally had some time to sit down comfortably with a cup of tea and really enjoy this adorable piece of Mystrade yum yum!!

Such a wonderful ending to a great angst and feels-filled story

“Bugger,” he muttered. Reaching down under the duvet, Mycroft pulled the hideous socks off his feet. His lover could charm his way out of a snake den with his smile, he thought. Now he would never escape Gregory’s grandmother’s foul foot rub.

Hahahaha I adore this love/hate relationship he has with the foot rub! He hates it but can't deny it's working wonders on his cold!

“How ‘bout we get started back on this, before some minor insult becomes an international incident?”

BEST! LINE! EVER!!!!!!

You know how much I adore your Gregory and his humour and this just proves how well thought out your Greg is. I'm in awe!

He slipped into the bathroom, ready to start his day and ready to be loved.

Nobody does it better

Makes me feel sad for the rest

Nobody does it half as good as you

Baby, you're the best

Awwwww the ultimate fluffy ending!! this was truly lovely scw! Looking forward to the epilogue

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Thank you for the comments!

Seeking Clarity + Wisdom, on 17 Jan 2016 - 10:26 PM, said:

Greg watched the younger man from across the room. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection for his lover. Mycroft was sitting up in bed in rumpled pajamas; his hair mussed, with that silly curl in the middle of his forehead; his prominent nose wrinkled and twitched; his breath was coming in fits and starts as his sneezes teased him.
Gorgeous image. I would watch that all day. Well at least as long as I could manage to keep my hands to myself....

Yes, we completely understand each other.

Hahahaha I adore this love/hate relationship he has with the foot rub! He hates it but can't deny it's working wonders on his cold!

I have a serious affection for Gram.

Everyone loves Gram and her foot rub, except Mycroft. Thus, I must and will continue to torture him with it.

Such a wonderful ending to a great angst and feels-filled story

Thank you again!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

This is it! I am done! *wipes hand across her brow* I hope everyone who has been reading this fic has enjoyed it. As always I own nothing and I love comments. I'll start posting again on my drabble thread once I feel recovered.

Thank you to Cally for being a great friend and encouraging me.

Thank you to Juto for reading over the majority of this story, providing excellent feedback and helping me stay on track.

Thank you to AngelEyes and Kaze for their faithful comments. I truly appreciate them.

Thank you to everyone who reads whether you comment or not.

Epilogue to Dark Side

Mycroft was home early, for him. It had been a long week catching up on work from his time away and recovering from a dreadful cold. Greg was not home yet and Mycroft rather appreciated the solitude, sitting in the drawing room with a fresh pot of tea and a good book. It was rare he was home alone and at leisure. Dinner had been picked up on his way home and was waiting in the oven until Greg returned home.

He had started the second chapter when he heard the flat door close loudly and keys being deposited in the dish by the door. Mycroft waited to hear Greg call out he was home. Instead, a pair of harsh sneezes coming from the hallway startled Mycroft. He frowned. A moment later his partner appeared in the doorway of the drawing room, rubbing his nose.

“Welcome home, dear.” Mycroft greeted his partner. He studied Greg as the older man tossed his suit jacket on a nearby chair and threw himself down next to Mycroft on the sofa. “I take it you are not feeling any better.”

“Thank you and no.” Greg leaned back against the sofa and rubbed his face, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes. Mycroft observed Greg’s color was a touch pale. His nose was tinged pink around the edges of his nostrils and his philtrum. His voice was a bit gruffer than usual and, if Mycroft listened carefully, he could hear a faint wheeze when Greg breathed.

Mycroft bit his lower lip. “I am sorry, Gregory.” He sat forward and poured a cup of tea for his partner.

Greg sighed and reached out to rub Mycroft’s knee. “It’s not your fault.” Greg began loosening his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

“I am afraid it is most certainly my fault you are ill.” Mycroft offered Greg the teacup. “Had I not brought the virus home to you, you would not be suffering now.”

“Yeh, alright.” Greg just gave in and took the teacup. He began to take a sip, but halted with the cup halfway to his mouth. He looked over at the younger man. “You didn’t spike this in anyway, did you?”

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “Gregory, drink your tea.”

Greg took a sip, wincing slightly as the hot beverage slid down his throat. “Honestly, I’m not sure I would’ve cared all that much if you did,” he muttered.

Mycroft bit back a sympathetic reply. Gregory did not like to be coddled when he was ill, Mycroft reminded himself. He could see Greg’s eyelids begin to quiver and his nostrils flare slightly. Mycroft nudged the tissue box on the coffee table toward the older man. Greg’s breath hitched and he hurriedly sat down his teacup, grabbing a tissue.

“HuhhRRRDSCHOO! …Heh…HehDZCHOOO!” He turned away from Mycroft to blow his nose. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

“God bless you, dear.”

“Thanks.” Greg sniffed and then began to cough, thick and congested. Mycroft grimaced at the sound.

“You need to quit smoking,” the younger man admonished.

“I did. Today.” Greg gasped out between coughs. He smiled at Mycroft, but it was a pale imitation of his usual cheeky grin. Mycroft felt his heart clench. Greg took another sip of his tea and the warm liquid helped end the coughing jag.

Greg turned his attention to his partner. “How are you doing?”

“Considerably better than you, it seems.” Mycroft pretended to not understand what Greg was really asking.

“Don’t be a prat, My. I’m not feeling up to it. Your brother was bad enough today.” Greg turned away. He sounded weary and there was no heat in his response. He drank a little more of his tea.

Mycroft blinked and reconsidered his defensive attitude. “Apologies, dear. I realize you only ask because you care.” Mycroft worried his lower lip and thought about how to reply. “I am less anxious, but still easily irritated. Does that make sense to you?”

Greg looked back over at Mycroft considering the younger man’s answer. “Yeh. Managing not to start any wars?”

Mycroft chuckled. “No wars and Anthea has talked me out of an airstrike on a certain area of Serbia. For now.” Greg smiled a little at seeing Mycroft laugh. He leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes.

As Greg’s eyes closed, Mycroft let the concern he was feeling show on his face. He moved closer to his lover and laid a hand on Greg’s brow. Greg did not open his eyes, but hummed. “Your hands are like ice. They feel so good.”

“That’s because you have a fever.” Mycroft tutted. He laid the back of his other hand on Greg’s cheek. “Did you take anything for your symptoms?”

“No, was toughing it out until I got home.” Greg shifted closer to Mycroft. “To you.” Mycroft stroked Greg’s cheek as he removed his hands. He refrained from showing more affection.

“Let me get you some paracetamol, at least.”

“Okay.” Greg sniffled and coughed against his forearm.

“And an expectorant.”

“Okay.”

“Followed by a hot bath, fresh pajamas and your favorite spicy Thai dish.” Mycroft added with a nonchalant air, hoping he wasn’t pushing his luck. Greg was surprisingly acquiescent.

Greg opened his eyes and peered at Mycroft. “You’ve been plotting all day, haven’t you?”

“Merely preparing for the certain likelihood you would return home feeling weary and more unwell from not having taken proper care of yourself through the course of the day.” Mycroft replied primly.

“Well, you would know. Prob’ly watching me on CCTV.” Mycroft’s cheeks pinked up a little. Greg didn’t miss the color change. “Yeh, I noticed the camera kept changing position at the crime scene this afternoon.” Another cough worked its way out. “I hope you’ll pass along any useful footage.”

“Sgt. Donovan received the files shortly after you left for the day.”

“That’s my boy.” Greg gazed fondly at his partner, then leaned over and kissed Mycroft.

Mycroft was startled. “What was that for?” Greg didn’t usually initiate physical contact when he was ill.

“Thank you, for taking care of me. Don’t think I don’t notice all the little ways you try to help me feel better and minimize my time at work when I don’t feel good.” Greg sidled closer to Mycroft and nuzzled his neck. A giggle escaped from Mycroft as Greg nestled up against his partner’s body.

“What are you doing?” Mycroft was tickled and puzzled. His arms instinctively wrapped around Greg.

“You feel nice.” Greg began to relax against his partner. He sniffled. “I bet you smell nice too, but I can’t tell right now.”

“I could get your grandmother’s foot rub and a pair of your most ridiculous socks.” Mycroft offered half-heartedly. He didn’t want to touch the stuff, but if it would help Greg feel better, he would do it.

“Not now. I’m getting comfortable.” Greg laid his head on Mycroft’s chest and draped an arm over Mycroft’s middle.

“Gregory, I should to get your medication.” Mycroft couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice.

Greg began to pat Mycroft’s lap and hips. “I know you’ve got some in your pockets.”

Mycroft sighed and canted his hips as he extracted a clean handkerchief from his pocket. He laid the cloth on his lap and carefully unfolded it, revealing two paracetamol tabs and an expectorant caplet.

“You’re goin’ta put those in my tea if I said no.” Greg sat up and picked up the medications.

“It occurred to me to be prepared for your refusal.” Mycroft handed Greg his teacup. Greg swallowed down the pills with the last of his tea and set the teacup back on the coffee table. He snuggled back up against Mycroft, resuming his previous position and pulling his feet up on the couch. Greg’s actions elicited a short laugh from his lover.

“You are behaving like my cat, Elizabeth, did.” Mycroft stroked Greg’s silvery head and Greg sniffled, rubbing his itchy nose.

“Don’t mention ca-ah-cats. It’ll make me-hih sne-hih-sneeze.” Mycroft felt Greg stiffen and then snatch the handkerchief off of his lap.

“HehhDZSCHOO!” Greg shuddered against Mycroft.

“God bless you.” Mycroft flinched a bit at the volume.

“HuhhRRRDSHOO!” The sneeze seemed to force Greg even closer to Mycroft.

“Bless you, dear.” Mycroft braced his partner.

“Hehh…HehhRRUSCHSH!”

“Gracious, bless you again.” Mycroft kissed the top of Greg’s head.

Greg sighed and wiped his nose. “Sorry.”

Mycroft smiled. “What is it you are always saying to me?”

“Don’t stifle?”

Mycroft shook his head in mock annoyance. “No, you don’t need to apologize.” Greg hummed in agreement and tightened his hold on Mycroft. His eyes had drifted shut. “You are being rather affectionate, my dear.”

“Want me to stop?” Greg mumbled not making any attempt to move.

“No, merely observing, as this is unusual behavior for you when you are unwell.” Mycroft rested his cheek atop Greg’s head.

“Don’t normally want to risk it.” Greg’s voice was soft and muffled.

“Ah, but in this case you know…”

“I can’t give it back to you.” Greg finished, his words a little slurred.

“You are too good for me, Gregory.” Mycroft whispered.

There was no response. Greg’s breathing had evened out and he was snoring softly. Mycroft pulled the blanket that lay folded across the top of the couch down and carefully arranged it over Greg. Wrapping an arm around Greg’s shoulders, Mycroft held his partner close. Grateful for his long limbs, he was just able to reach his book and feeling content and relaxed, Mycroft resumed his reading.

[Juto]

Yay!! Congratulations on having successfully finished your SS. it was an absolute privilege to get a "behind the scenes look" into your writing, you're most welcome.

This was such a lovely epilogue, turning the tables and still adding Grandma's foot rub such a nice touch!! And I have to admit, sick yet affectionate Greg made me let out tiny high pitched d'awws!!

Mycroft shook his head in mock annoyance. “No, you don’t need to apologize.” Greg hummed in agreement and tightened his hold on Mycroft. His eyes had drifted shut. “You are being rather affectionate, my dear.”

“Want me to stop?” Greg mumbled not making any attempt to move.

“No, merely observing, as this is unusual behavior for you when you are unwell.” Mycroft rested his cheek atop Greg’s head.

Just! The! Cutest!!!!!!!!!

Hehe, I like to think Mycroft pulled a double bluff, spiking Greg's tea yet knowing his partner would know unless he put extra meds in his pocket. But top marks for writing it so ambiguously that there's really no telling

[cally]

I'm rather sad this is over, as it was the Christmas gift that kept on giving long past the holiday season. But I suppose all good things, etc, etc (and if you get where I stole that from you get a gold star!)

“Welcome home, dear.” Mycroft greeted his partner. He studied Greg as the older man tossed his suit jacket on a nearby chair and threw himself down next to Mycroft on the sofa. “I take it you are not feeling any better.”

No blessing, Mycroft?

“No, was toughing it out until I got home.” Greg shifted closer to Mycroft. “To you.”

You do realise this actually doesn't make you any less ill, right Greg? Silly man. One of these days Mycroft is going to show up at 4 hour intervals with a packet of cold medicine. Despite the "no coddling" rule.

“Don’t mention ca-ah-cats. It’ll make me-hih sne-hih-sneeze.”

I'm quite sure that's not how that works.

Oh, Greg. Poor dear sounds just miserable.

“You are too good for me, Gregory.” Mycroft whispered.

Oh, Mycroft.

Hehe, I like to think Mycroft pulled a double bluff, spiking Greg's tea yet knowing his partner would know unless he put extra meds in his pocket. But top marks for writing it so ambiguously that there's really no telling

I don't think so. If he had gone and made him a new cup of tea, then yes. But Mycroft had been drinking from the same pot, so I'm going to go with no. Unless he managed a slight of hand and slipped a sleeping pill in, but I think it would have been a bit too early for that. Mycroft would have wanted Greg to have a meal and a bath first, as I'm sure Greg's not eaten all day. :|

[AngelEyes]

This ending is epically awesome! I'm just laying here Squeeing with delight, grinning like an idiot. This makes me happy. So much happy!!! It's just perfect.

Greg sighed and reached out to rub Mycroft’s knee. “It’s not your fault.” Greg began loosening his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

“I am afraid it is most certainly my fault you are ill.” Mycroft offered Greg the teacup. “Had I not brought the virus home to you, you would not be suffering now.”

“Yeh, alright.” Greg just gave in and took the teacup. He began to take a sip, but halted with the cup halfway to his mouth. He looked over at the younger man. “You didn’t spike this in anyway, did you?”

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “Gregory, drink your tea.”

Greg took a sip, wincing slightly as the hot beverage slid down his throat. “Honestly, I’m not sure I would’ve cared all that much if you did,” he muttered.

This whole exchange made me laugh.

Greg turned his attention to his partner. “How are you doing?”

“Considerably better than you, it seems.” Mycroft pretended to not understand what Greg was really asking.

“Don’t be a prat, My. I’m not feeling up to it. Your brother was bad enough today.” Greg turned away. He sounded weary and there was no heat in his response. He drank a little more of his tea.

And this. Snarky Mycroft. And I love the word prat, and can totally see Greg using it, and totally see it being applied to Mycroft, so bravo!

Greg opened his eyes and peered at Mycroft. “You’ve been plotting all day, haven’t you?”

Always!

“Well, you would know. Prob’ly watching me on CCTV.” Mycroft’s cheeks pinked up a little. Greg didn’t miss the color change. “Yeh, I noticed the camera kept changing position at the crime scene this afternoon.” Another cough worked its way out. “I hope you’ll pass along any useful footage.”

Such a stalker. LOL!

“You feel nice.” Greg began to relax against his partner. He sniffled. “I bet you smell nice too, but I can’t tell right now.”

Oh Greg! Too funny.

Greg began to pat Mycroft’s lap and hips. “I know you’ve got some in your pockets.”

Mycroft sighed and canted his hips as he extracted a clean handkerchief from his pocket. He laid the cloth on his lap and carefully unfolded it, revealing two paracetamol tabs and an expectorant caplet.

“You’re goin’ta put those in my tea if I said no.” Greg sat up and picked up the medications.

“It occurred to me to be prepared for your refusal.”

Totally!

Mycroft smiled. “What is it you are always saying to me?”

“Don’t stifle?”

Mycroft shook his head in mock annoyance. “No, you don’t need to apologize.”

That too!

“You are being rather affectionate, my dear.”

“Want me to stop?” Greg mumbled not making any attempt to move.

“No, merely observing, as this is unusual behavior for you when you are unwell.” Mycroft rested his cheek atop Greg’s head.

Never stop!!!!

Can I just fangirl over this some more? Maybe I'll just go reread it again. Once, or twice. Or lots. LOL

[Shamaël]

Lestrade's list of Mycroft's different ways of sneezing was absolutely amazing (no surprise the british government didn't like it...)... I've been reading this story twice today and I really enjoyed it!!! I don't know how you manage to change continually from mild-angst to humour, but it's really well done. And the epilogue was pure bliss (yes, yes, I already told you I LOVE your Greg's sneezes, didn't I?)... Thanks!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

This is nearly a year later and I realized I never thanked @Juto, @cally (without whom none of this would have happened ) and @AngelEyes for their epilogue comments. Please forgive my tardiness. Thank you so much for your supportive words and I am so glad you enjoyed it. 

I came here to thank @Aliena H. for her recent comments, so...