I am not lonely [Mystrade]

CHAPTER 33 : December is Christmas

Greg tried to find his way in the crowded shelving of the department store. He had separated from his partner to get the Christmas wreaths while the official was to get his lover's present on another floor. The detective grabbed a couple of silver and blue angels on a shelf and added them to his basket before noticing a superb glass star that would look marvellous on top of the 8 feet high tree Mycroft had had delivered the same morning at the Holmes Mansion.
He seized the star but stopped in his movement, suddenly wondering it was really safe to have something that fragile in the same room than a baby. He stayed stationary, thinking during a few seconds, before being told off by an old lady that was trying to get her hand on some hideous little elves to hang. Considering that the star would be fixed on the top of the tree and according to the high of the fir, he decided that it wasn't that of a danger and cautiously deposited the box containing the star in his basket.
It was difficult to walk and catch things on the shelves with the mass of people hurrying around the magnificent decorations the shop offered. Most of them weren't even customers, only tourists dragged in there by the reputation the shop had grown out of the show ITV had produced the year before on its founder Harry Gordon Selfridges and Gregory was starting to understand why his partner always tried to avoid shopping on weekends when it was possible, and especially in this time in the year.
Willing to avoid the crowd for a while, the detective proceed to the men's clothing section, thinking that he could do with a new bowtie to wear with his tuxedo. He wandered for a while, admiring the different outfits displayed on the mannequin before a salesman approached him.
"Good morning sir. May I help you ?" asked the tall blonde man, smiling to theDI.
"Well, I'm looking for a bowtie actually." replied the inspector.
"Sure. What kind of suit is it to wear with ?" questioned the shop assistant, leading his client to a counter on which were displayed ties and bows, organized by brands and colours.
"Hmm... A black classic tuxedo. Tom ford one." answered Greg while blonde was going around the counter and started to pick out some boxes from a console behind it.
"Right, so shall we have a look at some classic bows or are you looking for something a bit more fancy to contrast with your diner jacket ?" continued to question the salesman.
"Classic is good." smiled the detective, taking a look at the first bow the man was showing him. After a dozen of minutes at looking at the different choice the shop assistant had to proposed hi, the DI decided himself on black Ralf Lauren Purple Label silk bowtie with a rich velvety texture two-piece self-tie that would advantageously substitute to the old M&S ready-to-wear one he had bought years ago for a party at Scotland Yard.
He was back in the christmas decoration section when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He grabbed it, careful not to drop his basket and stepped aside from the shelves, taking thecall.
"Hello ?" he started, not hearing much because of the surrounding hubbub.
"Gregory. Have you finished picking up the adornments ?" he heard his partner saying through the noise.
"Yes, I think so." replied the detective, half-yelling to get heard.
"Right, will you meet me at the Dolly's for a coffee ?" proposed Mycroft who probably had found Gregory's present by now.
"Yes, perfect see you there in a couple of minutes." answered the yarder before hanging up the call. It actually took him a bit less than 15 minutes to find his way to the coffee, mistaking it with one of the numerous other situated at the exact opposite of the store before finding the right one.

When he finally arrived, the auburn was already sat at one of the art-deco inspired café's table, a perfectly wrapped box by his side and a pleased smile on his lips. The detective placed a kiss on his husband's cheek before sitting down on the chair opposite him and placing his own bags around him.
"So, any good purchase ?" wondered Mycroft, looking rather amused at the sight of the numerous packages.
"Yes, I've found a marvellous star, pure beauty !" replied Gregory, looking pleased at himself.
"Great ! Tho I'll let you put it up, I'm not really that confident when it comes to climbing on a ladder actually ..." chuckled the official, taking a look at the café's menu.
"Come on, a big boy like you, having the fear of heights ?" giggled the inspector, selecting a Cappuccino while his boyfriend decided himself on a Passion fruit and Orange Tea, one of the house speciality.
"It's not heights, it's the ladders the problem !" protested the auburn. "I can't stand them since Sherlock made me fall from one when I was 12."
The yarder couldn't repressed a laugh at the idea of a toddler Sherlock being Machiavellian enough to make his brother fall from it, even if it only half-surprised him that it actually had happened now that he knew well enough the Holmes family. He was still chortling when a waiter brought them their beverages, his husband trying to look pissed at him despite the smile on his face, making Greg laugh even harder.
"Have you find what you were looking for ?" asked the detective when he finally came back to his mind.
"Yes, obviously." the auburn answered, gesturing toward the wrapped box. "But this is the most pathetic attempt I've ever heard to try to make me say what is in that box."
Faking to be disappointed, the yarder punched the table gently. "It was worth a try I suppose." he mumbled.
Mycroft grabbed his lover's hand and kissed it softly. "You'll have to wait two more weeks darling ..." he added in a tender voice.

Gregory was trying to attach a silver ball on one of the highest branch of the tree, having many difficulties because of the little boy clamped to his left leg, shouting at the top of his voice. "I want to do it Papa ! I want to do it !".
Sighing slightly, the detective lifted his son in his arms and gave him the ball. "Ok, here you go. Be careful right ?" he said softly, indicating to the toddler where to display the decoration. Half of the adornments had already been implemented but the help provided by Alden was only slowing the yarder down but despite the fact that this task was going to take him hours if he continued at this rhythm, he was enjoying greatly this father and son moment.
Mycroft stepped in the room quietly, staying unnoticed by his partner and snapped a couple of pictures of the two loves of his life before Greg turned his head to him, smiling hugely when seeing that the official was carrying his camera, something the detective wished he would do more regularly, knowing that photography was one of the rare thing that never failed to make him happy. The auburn approached the tree, contemplating the work already achieved, a little smirk on his face. He picked up a blue ball from its box and handle it to the kid who hanged it near to the other one.
The elder Holmes never had liked Christmas that much, finding it dull to celebrate the birth of, in his eyes, a fictional character, by using another fictional figure and condemning everyone to dreadful family dinner, but since he was dating Gregory, he found himself having rather a good feeling in Christmas party and present exchange and even this pre-celebration arrangement was bringing him more happiness than he would ever dare to admit.
They weren't fully done when Michael entered the living room carrying a tray with a teapot, cups and biscuits. Letting down their embellishment, the three of them sat down on the couch beside the fire. The cook poured two cups of tea for the men and handled Alden plastic goblet filled with home-made hot chocolate. Mycroft picked up a biscuit and dipped it in the chocolate before feeding it to his son. His boyfriend imitated him, unless, instead of feeding it to the toddler, he forced the biscuit to the auburn's mouth, keeping the last morsel for himself by kissing him on the lips before he got the time to eat it entirely.

"That's childish !" protested Mycroft, giggling.
"Come on, it's Christmas !" laughed the detective.
"No, it's not ! In case you weren't aware Christmas is on December the 25th, not the 8th!" retorted the official, wiping out chocolate drops from his son's chin.
"Don't be such a stick-in-the-mud ! We are in December, it's Christmas !" expostulated Greg, pulling out his tongue.
"Don't do this, you'll give Alden ideas ! I don't want my son to be as rude as my husband !" chuckled the auburn, placing another kiss on the DI's lips.
"You bast... baboon !" retorted his partner, grabbing a cushion on the couch and smashing it on the other man's head. Putting his son down on the floor, the official grabbed another cushion and struck back, starting a battle between the two men, quickly joined by the child who couldn't figure why he would have to stay away from the fun. The ran after the room, chasing each other until Mycroft stroked an unadjusted hit and blown up one of the chinacup displayed on the coffee table, splatting tea and bits of porcelain all over the floor.
Alarmed by the sound of the crockery breaking up, Michael dashed to the living room, bringing a sweeper and a mop with him. He kneeled beside the coffee table and helped Greg picking up the china bits while the official was retaining his son from injuring himself on the cutting pieces and trying to calm him down from the state of excitement the cushion battle had put him in. He lifted the toddler against his chest and rocked him gently whispering him one of the few lullabies he knew. "Hush, little baby, don't say a word, / Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird. / And if that mockingbird don't sing, / Daddy's gonna buy you a diamond ring. / And if that diamond ring turns brass, / Daddy's gonna buy you a looking glass. / And if that looking glass gets broke, / Daddy's gonna buy you a billy-goat. / And if that billy-goat don't pull, / Daddy's gonna buy you a cart and bull. / And if that cart and bullturn over, / Daddy's gonna buy you a dog named Rover. / And if that dog named Rover won't bark. / Daddy's gonna to buy you and horse and cart. / And if that horse and cart fall down, / Well, you'll still be the sweetest little baby in town."
By the time he was finished with his song, the two other men had cleaned up the mess and the cook had brought another cup and Mycroft sat back down on the couch, his son on his lap toying with his jacket's silver button. He grabbed a cup and drank a gulp of tea, a little upset of the loss of one of the cup of his precious tea service, a present made to him by the queen herself as a thanking once he had forestalled a conspiracy that nearly cost her Majesty her life.