When Britain Catches Cold... (BBC Sherlock/Mystrade)

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

 

This story seemed just a bit too long for my drabble thread, so I thought I'd post it here. It actually has, dare I say it, a bit of plot? I hate the title. If anyone thinks of something better let me know and I'll change it.  

As always I own nothing and as always I enjoy comments. Happy reading!

Greg stood at the doorway of their bedroom watching Mycroft undress. His partner’s movements were slow and deliberate, as if he was concentrating very hard to remember what he was doing. Greg shook his head and pursed his lips.

            “Is there a purpose to your lurking?” Mycroft asked as he finished removing his tie and waistcoat. He sniffed lightly and cleared his throat.

Greg leaned against the doorjamb. “You’re still planning to go,” Greg stated.

“Yes, there is no other option.” Mycroft began to unbutton his shirt.

Greg nodded and moved away from the doorjamb. He went over to his closet and pulled out his tux, tossing it on the bed. He, too, began to undress.

“What are you doing?” Mycroft stripped off his shirt and shivered slightly.

“I am coming with you, of course.”  Greg noticed the younger man’s shivers and frowned. “You take anything yet?”

Mycroft took off his trousers and began putting on his tux. “No, I will wait until just before I leave.” He paused and added. “There is no need for you to attend this event.”

“Yes there is. Anthea is out of the country. Someone needs to look after you. Would you like me to call Sherlock?” Mycroft shuddered. Greg wandered over to his boyfriend as he selected a tie and cummerbund. Kissing the back of Mycroft’s neck, Greg murmured, “You’re feverish.”

Mycroft huffed. “It will be boring.” He handed a tie and cummerbund to Greg. Greg snorted.

“All the more reason I’m coming with you. Besides you’re so bloody sexy when you wear a tux.”

“Oh yes, and I feel ‘so bloody sexy’ with an aching throat and a drippy nose.” Mycroft sniffed and selected a handkerchief. He carefully wiped his nose. It wasn’t sore yet but he knew it would be, sooner rather than later.

Greg tucked in his shirt and fastened the cummerbund. He lay the bow tie around his neck and went to stand next to Mycroft who was finishing tying his own tie.

“Why haven’t you tried to talk me out of this?” Mycroft grumbled as he turned to Greg and began work on Greg’s tie.

Greg shrugged. “I figured you’d’ve found a way out if there was one by now. I know you hate leg work and this event smacks of it.”

            “True.” Mycroft tightened the knot.

            “I could ask the same of you. Why aren’t you trying harder to talk me out of tagging along?” Greg asked.

            Mycroft ignored the question. “There. I do not know why you haven’t learned to tie a bow tie yourself.” Mycroft studied the tie and nodded with approval.

            Greg walked over to the bed and picked up his jacket. “Because I like it when you tie my tie.” Mycroft rolled his eyes.

            “I am going to the call the car.” Mycroft picked up his jacket and shoes and headed out of the room.

            “Right behind you, love.” Greg ducked into the en suite. There he picked up a foil packet of antihistamines and paracetamol. He then went to Mycroft’s dresser and took a couple more handkerchiefs. He carefully filled his pockets, checking for any indiscreet bulges. Grabbing his shoes he went downstairs and followed Mycroft into the waiting car.

            “Okay, tell me about this party we are going to.” Greg instructed once the car had pulled away from the curb.

            Mycroft raised the privacy screen. “It is a gala to mark the end of the Chinese trade delegation’s visit and our mutually successful negotiations.”

            “Uh-huh. And your mission?”

            “To be convivial.” Mycroft sniffed.

            “Not telling me then?” Greg prodded.

            Mycroft sighed. “I am not able to reveal details. Suffice it to say I must make contact with an operative.” Mycroft rubbed his forehead where it had started to ache. Greg watched his partner.

            “S’alright I won’t give you a hard time. I know you don’t feel well. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” promised Greg.

            Mycroft merely nodded. His nose twitched and his breath hitched as his eyelids fluttered shut. “Hihh…. hihhnnchx…hihnnchx…hihnnchx.” He stifled against his wrist; his other hand searched for his handkerchief.

            “Bless you, “ Greg murmured and then turned his head to look out the window. He tried to give his partner a modicum of privacy, despite the close quarters. In the reflection of the glass he could see Mycroft struggle to regain control.

            “Hih…heh’ETSHOO! Heh’TSCHOO! Tish, tish…”

            Greg closed his eyes. It was going to be another sneezy cold. But then, when weren’t they?

            “Tish, tish, tish, tish… heh…heh… HAhh’SCHOO!” Mycroft blew his nose loudly. Greg opened his eyes and turned back.

            “God bless you, My.” Without hope he asked, “You sure you can’t skip this?”

            “Ye-heh-Yes. EHTSH, EHTSH! Heh’ETSCHOO! Bugger!” Mycroft wiped his nose again.

Greg rubbed his partner’s leg in sympathy. “Bless you again.”

Mycroft groaned, “I wish I had thought to take an antihistamine with the paracetamol.”

Pleased to already be of use, Greg reached into the interior breast pocket of his jacket. “You mean one of these?”

Mycroft’s eyes widened and he snatched the foil packet. Greg chuckled and lowered the privacy glass. “Mac, do you have a bottle of water for Mr. Holmes?”

“Certainly,” replied the driver and handed one back.”

“Ta mate.” Greg raised the screen, offering the bottle to Mycroft. “Who’s the best boyfriend?” Greg teased.

Mycroft huffed, popped out a tab from the foil and took a swig from the bottle. He started to recap the bottle, when Greg said, “Nah-ah. Finish it. My job is taking care of you until you give me other duties. You will stay hydrated.” Mycroft took a long drink, giving Greg a hard look. “Yeh, not intimidated. I’ve seen you with frosting on your nose.” A bemused twinkle appeared in Mycroft’s eyes.

“Thank you Gregory.” Mycroft said after he had swallowed.

Greg smiled. “You’re welcome. So, this shouldn’t take long. You just have to meet the operative; we have a drink; we’re out.”

Mycroft was quiet and gave Greg a sidelong look. “It would be nice if it turned out that easy.”

“But…”

“The operative does not know who I am nor do I know who the operative is.”

“You have a place to meet? A time? Anything?”

“No,” Mycroft sniffed and then coughed into his handkerchief.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how are you going to identify this operative?” Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “Oh, right. Mr. Mycroft ‘I can deduce the color of your underwear from your shoelaces’ Holmes will figure it out.” Greg shook his head.

The car slowed and pulled up in front of a large, elegant hotel. Greg exited the car first and waited for Mycroft. Following Greg out of the car, Mycroft wavered as he stood. Greg grabbed his partner’s elbow. “You all right?” he asked quietly.

Mycroft nodded. “Just a bit dizzy.” Greg noted a light sheen of perspiration on Mycroft’s brow.

“Let’s get you inside and seated.” Greg let go of Mycroft’s arm, but stayed close. The walk to the rooms where the gala was being held was too long for Greg’s liking. Mycroft was looking rather peaked when they arrived.

“Over there, love.” Greg indicated a free table and guided Mycroft to it. “You sit a bit, I’ll get us a drink, yeh?” Greg smiled encouragingly at the younger man. Mycroft nodded, pulled out his handkerchief and found a dry corner to blot his face.

Greg gave Mycroft a fresh handkerchief from his supply and a squeeze on the shoulder before heading over to the bar. He glanced back to check on his partner and noted Mycroft looked like a king holding court. In the short time Greg was gone several government mucky-mucks had come over to pay their respects. Greg shook his head and chuckled to himself. He gathered their beverages and wove his way back to Mycroft.

By the time he made it back to his lover’s side the number of sycophants had thinned. The few that remained Greg had met before. They had hung around to make nice with the Detective Inspector to help solidify their standing with Mycroft. Greg flashed his gorgeous smile and handed his ailing partner a tonic and lime. He wasted no time and distracted the remaining hangers on with a titillating anecdote from work. This allowed Mycroft to discreetly blow his nose and muffle a series of quiet stifles into his handkerchief.  Eventually, other quarry was sighted and the couple found themselves alone.

“Black silk boxer shorts with red polka dots,” murmured Mycroft to Greg as the last MP wandered off. Greg snorted.

Mycroft looked at his glass with disdain. “This is dreadful without gin.”

“No booze for you.” Greg said firmly. “Not while you are loaded up with paracetamol and antihistamines. Besides you’re working.” Mycroft hummed and sipped his drink, gazing about the room.

“None of those people before were him? Or her?”

“He or she? Sadly, no, but not unexpected.” Mycroft continued to scan the room.

“You feel up for a dance?” Greg asked. Mycroft looked at his partner vaguely alarmed. “It would be a good way to check out the rest of the room.”

Mycroft considered the suggestion. “All right.” He finished his drink with a grimace. Greg stood and gallantly offered his hand, causing Mycroft to smile briefly. He took Greg’s hand and rose to his feet. The change of position once again made Mycroft’s head spin. Greg reached out and gripped Mycroft’s upper arm. His partner took a moment to steady and then nodded. Greg studied the younger man and reached into his pocket retrieving a fresh handkerchief. Mycroft’s breath hitched and nostrils flared. Greg angled his body to shield his partner from view from the majority of the room, as he handed over the soft cloth.

“Hih…hihhnnchx…hihhnnchx…hih’Chmmpff.” The sneezes had started quietly but were building in force.

Greg stepped a little closer to Mycroft, sliding his hand from Mycroft’s arm to the lower back. “Bless you, My. Just let it go. No one is looking.”

“Nnn…hih…TSHmmppft, tish, tish. No. Heh… hih… hhnnchx. Some one is alwa-heh-ways hihhnnchx, hihnnchx, hihnnchmmppff. Looking.”

“Bless you, again.”

Mycroft sighed and wiped his nose with care. “How many extra handkerchiefs did you bring?”

Greg thought. “Half dozen.”

“I am not sure if I am relieved or offended.” Mycroft muttered. He blew his nose softly. Greg snickered.

“Mr. Holmes?” came a soft accented feminine voice from behind Greg.

“Oh dear Lord,” murmured Mycroft as Greg shifted to the side, revealing a petite, attractive Asian woman. She looked about their age, but was likely older. “Madame Fong,” greeted Mycroft.

She smiled and appeared inordinately pleased. “I had hoped to see you this evening. I have missed our conversations. But, dear me, you do not look well.” Greg watched somewhat aghast as the woman reached up and rather familiarly laid a hand against Mycroft’s cheek, cupping it.  She tutted and removed her hand gently swatting Mycroft on the chest. “You should be home, tucked into bed, with a bowl of my dumplings.”

“That’s what I think too,” Greg chimed in. He felt like he was interrupting something. The woman turned to acknowledge the older man.

“Madame Fong, allow me to introduce you to my partner, Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade.” Mycroft nodded at Greg, who tipped his head to the lady, but he kept a hand possessively at his partner’s back.

“I am happy to make your acquaintance.” She graced Greg with a small smile, before turning back to the younger man. “Mycroft, you should sit. You are pale.”

“I assure you, I am fine.”

“Sit,” she commanded. Mycroft sat. Greg gawped.

Madame Fong sat as well. She looked up at Greg, who was still standing feeling rather amazed. “Has Mycroft eaten?”

“Madame Fong, I am sitting right here.” Mycroft protested.

“No ma’am.” Greg replied.

“I suggest you go to the buffet and bring back shrimp rolls with mustard. They aren’t as good as my dumplings, but they will do.”

“Exactly what makes you think I will eat a shrimp roll?” Mycroft sat back and folded his arms.

“You will eat.” Madame Fong patted his knee. Mycroft huffed and Greg looked questioningly at his partner. Mycroft turned his gaze to the buffet and narrowed his eyes.

“Gregory will you get me some fruit, tea and an almond biscuit, please?”

“And a shrimp roll. Do not forget the mustard.” Madame Fong added.

Greg kept staring at Mycroft, who nodded. Greg shrugged and reluctantly left his lover in the clutches of Madame Fong.

At the buffet Greg found a plate and loaded it with fruit and biscuits, leaving room for a shrimp roll. He started to put a healthy dollop of mustard on the side.

“It is very spicy, you know,” came a soft voice behind him.

“Is it? Well, I suppose that’s the point then.” Greg replied. He turned to smile at the young man behind him.

The man smiled back looking unsure, “The point?”

“It will help clear the sinuses. My partner has a cold and it was suggested he eat shrimp rolls with mustard sauce.”

“Oh, who is your partner?”

“The British government,” quipped Greg. He inclined his head in the direction of Mycroft and Madame Fong. Mycroft glanced over at Greg. “I’m kidding. He has an appointment with the Ministry of Transport.” Greg finished putting sauce on the plate.

“When Britain sneezes, all of Europe catches cold.” The man replied looking at Mycroft, who had resumed his conversation with Madame Fong.

“God help us, I hope not,” laughed Greg. “He sneezes enough for all of Europe and Britain combined.” Greg had set the plate down to fill two teacups.

“It was my pleasure to speak with you.” The gentleman held out his hand and Greg, without a thought, took it. As they released the grip Greg found he had a flash drive in his palm. He quickly slipped it into his trouser pocket and gathered the plate and tea.

When he returned to the table, Madame Fong was gone. “Where’d the dragon lady go?” Greg asked setting down the food and drink.

“To harass another,” Mycroft replied. He took a cup of tea and sipped it.

“You going to eat one of these?” Greg indicated the shrimp roll and mustard.

“Good heavens, no.” Mycroft selected a biscuit and delicately nibbled on it.

“You might want to rethink that.” Greg, using his eyes, indicated Madame Fong was watching. “Who is she?”

“She is the sister of one of the Chinese ministers and in some ways my counterpart.” Mycroft poked the roll. “Did the gentleman at the buffet give you something?” he asked, sotto voce.

“Yes. She’s coming this way.” Greg spoke in a hushed and urgent tone.

“Then we will leave.” Mycroft abandoned the roll and stood. Greg moved quickly to steady Mycroft and unobtrusively as possible helped his partner walk out of the ballroom. Greg sent a quick text to the driver as they made their way out front. He was grateful Mac was ready for them when he and Mycroft arrived. Mycroft was perspiring and shaking as he climbed into the back seat.

“That was brilliant!” Greg enthused as the car pulled away. “Well, except for you looking like death warmed over.” Greg looked at Mycroft critically. “I don’t think you would have made it through a dance.” Mycroft began to cough. Greg signaled for a bottle of water and offered it to Mycroft.

Mycroft shook his head and cupped his hands over his nose and mouth. “Hih’tsSH! TISH!”

“God bless you.” Greg dug a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it over.

“HehETSHOO! ETSCHOO! ETSCHOO!” Mycroft wiped his hands and nose. Greg opened his arms and, sighing, Mycroft leaned against Greg.

“Bless you, superspy, I think you’re finished.”

Mycroft shivered. “I concur.”

“I don’t know how your contact knew to give me this flash drive.” Greg held up the object that had come out of his pocket along with the handkerchief.

“I will take that.” Mycroft took the drive and slipped it into his jacket pocket. “He had been watching me, but Madame Fong’s arrival was ill timed. I am not sure what you said to him, but it was convincing.”

Greg thought briefly and decided Mycroft really didn’t need to know exactly what was said. “Yeh, I don’t know either. But no matter.” The younger man tilted his head and eyed his partner suspiciously. He might have asked for more details but was cut off by a pair of violent sneezes.

“Heh’AHTSCHOO! Hah’EHTISCHOO!”

“Bless you, love. Poor lamb.” Greg pulled Mycroft back against him. “We’ll go home, tuck you into bed and I’ll fix you a bowl of dumplings.”

 

FIN

[cally]

Like I said before, either title was fine.  

Poor, poor Mycroft.  He can't even have a rest when under the weather.  It really must be difficult being the British Government all the time.   But good thing he has a Greg to take such good care of him in his time of need.  

[Sophie<3]

Heh. Somehow Greg is smug and flirtatious and infinitely caring in this, all at the same time! I like it!  Also, you write his dialect and everything so well? Like, I can just always totally hear his voice. Well done! And with the plot, too!  

[AngelEyes]

On July 6, 2016 at 9:19 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

“Yes there is. Anthea is out of the country. Someone needs to look after you. Would you like me to call Sherlock?”

Oh dear. Anthea gone. Greg definitely needs to keep an eye on his love.

On July 6, 2016 at 9:19 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

Besides you’re so bloody sexy when you wear a tux.”

 

 

 

Totally!

On July 6, 2016 at 9:19 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

Greg walked over to the bed and picked up his jacket. “Because I like it when you tie my tie.” Mycroft rolled his eyes

LOL. So Greg.

On July 6, 2016 at 9:19 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

Greg closed his eyes. It was going to be another sneezy cold. But then, when weren’t they?

Oh Joy!

On July 6, 2016 at 9:19 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

“Ye-heh-Yes. EHTSH, EHTSH! Heh’ETSCHOO! Bugger!” Mycroft wiped his nose again.

LOL, I don't know why but I love it when he says Bugger! Especially about his sneezing.

On July 6, 2016 at 9:19 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

“If you don’t mind me asking, how are you going to identify this operative?” Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “Oh, right. Mr. Mycroft ‘I can deduce the color of your underwear from your shoelaces’ Holmes will figure it out.” Greg shook his head.

This cracked me up!

On July 6, 2016 at 9:19 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

“Black silk boxer shorts with red polka dots,” murmured Mycroft to Greg as the last MP wandered off. Greg snorted

And then he does! LOL!

On July 6, 2016 at 9:19 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

Mycroft sighed and wiped his nose with care. “How many extra handkerchiefs did you bring?”

 

 

Greg thought. “Half dozen.”

 

 

“I am not sure if I am relieved or offended.” Mycroft muttered. He blew his nose softly. Greg snickered.

Oh Mycroft. Both, definitely both.

On July 6, 2016 at 9:19 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

“The British government,” quipped Greg. He inclined his head in the direction of Mycroft and Madame Fong. Mycroft glanced over at Greg. “I’m kidding. He has an appointment with the Ministry of Transport.” Greg finished putting sauce on the plate.

Nice cover Greg.

On July 6, 2016 at 9:19 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

“Bless you, superspy, I think you’re finished.”

Awwww. This is adorable!!!!!

On July 6, 2016 at 9:19 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

Greg thought briefly and decided Mycroft really didn’t need to know exactly what was said.

Probably no, I don't think he would be amused.

This was excellent! I love the drama. Greg getting to be all super agent, lol. All while taking care of Mycroft of course. Poor baby.

[Juto]

Firstly, I think the title was just fine  not a giveaway to the plot and not boring. *thumbs up*

Secondly, I really enjoyed the subtle and not too Holmes-y(read:complicated) plot. It was great how the setup was for sick Mycroft to have to deduce the operative but then Greg ends up doing the actual leg work  nice spin. Maybe Mycroft won't think twice about bringing him to another gala if he's feeling under the weather  

Thirdly, Mystrade in tux and bow tie... NNNGGGGGHHHHHHH  and the sneezing...??!! *fans self* delightful fits as always. Poor Mycroft  lucky lucky us!!!

Fourtly, this had me giggling...

*****

Mycroft huffed, popped out a tab from the foil and took a swig from the bottle. He started to recap the bottle, when Greg said, “Nah-ah. Finish it. My job is taking care of you until you give me other duties. You will stay hydrated.” Mycroft took a long drink, giving Greg a hard look. “Yeh, not intimidated. I’ve seen you with frosting on your nose.” A bemused twinkle appeared in Mycroft’s eyes.

*****

I always love how you write Gregory and the originality and humour you bring to your stories, and this one certainly did not disappoint.   

Edited July 29, 2016 by Juto
Because glasses (apparently) only makes me able to read better but doesn't improve my spellingLOL

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

On July 6, 2016 at 5:31 AM, cally said:

Like I said before, either title was fine.  

Poor, poor Mycroft.  He can't even have a rest when under the weather.  It really must be difficult being the British Government all the time.   But good thing he has a Greg to take such good care of him in his time of need.  

Yes, Mycroft is exceedingly lucky to be in such good hands. 

 

On July 6, 2016 at 2:59 PM, Sophie<3 said:

Heh. Somehow Greg is smug and flirtatious and infinitely caring in this, all at the same time! I like it!  Also, you write his dialect and everything so well? Like, I can just always totally hear his voice. Well done! And with the plot, too!  

Thank you! I'm happy the plot bit worked out and thank you for your compliments re: Greg's voice.  

 

On July 14, 2016 at 11:03 PM, AngelEyes said:

This was excellent! I love the drama. Greg getting to be all super agent, lol. All while taking care of Mycroft of course.

Greg had fun too! I think he hopes he can do it again sometime.  

 

On July 29, 2016 at 0:53 AM, Juto said:

I always love how you write Gregory and the originality and humour you bring to your stories, and this one certainly did not disappoint.  

I'm glad you enjoyed it and especially happy to have made you giggle. 

I guess the title stays since generally it appears to satisfy. I may have to try more stories with a little plot. It was rather fun to write.  Thank you again everyone!