I am not lonely [Mystrade]

CHAPTER 55 : A taste of holidays

Gregory hanged his suit jacket in the corridor and took off his shoes and socks, appraising the contact of his bare skin with the cold flooring. Yawning hugely, he unbuttoned the two first button of his shirt and rolled the sleeves to his elbows. It was late in the night and the house was completely silent but while passing by the kitchen, the detective remarked a sticky note on the door reading ' If you haven't eaten yet, I've left you some pasta and fruit salad in the fridge. Love. M. '. Smiling and glad his partner had thought about his stomach he entered the room and seized the plate waiting for him in the fridge, putting it in the microwave before sitting down on one of the stool, around the table.
It had been three weeks since the attack and the inspector had amassed more overtime that on any other cases, not being able to take a single day off even on weekend and rarely making it at home before 11 p.m. and sometime even spending the night in his office. He had interviewed nearly 600 people, seen Anderson's pictures of the crime scene more time that he could recall and had to dealt with the Chief SuperIntendent who was finding him too slow as well as 15 press conferences, something he never had hated as much as on this case. Still, despite his tiredness, he managed to smile, happy that he was now over with the investigation, the final arrests having been made the same evening and the case ready to go to court. The final report showed 205 dead, including 11 of the 409 wounded who didn't survived their injuries and Greg was still asking himself how two men could possibly had done this, not on a material plan, the investigation providing him with all the information he needed, but on the mental side. How can two young men have this much anger and resoluteness was something he really couldn't figure despite all the time he had spent thinking about it.
Eating his dish he thought that he should probably take a few days off now that he was over with the case to spend a bit of time with his son, maybe bring him by the sea again if Mycroft could managed a day off to. The official to had been occupied these last weeks, having to determine which part of the enquire to advise the public from and which part to keep classified, managing the secret services around the world to try to collect informations on the two men and their links with possible terrorist groups and just generally making sure the country was safe and under control. The detective had barely seen his partner those last weeks, him usually coming back home when Holmes was already in bed and the auburn leaving before dawn, just managing a few minutes together when they had to see each other to discuss the case. Understanding that the two men were facing impossible timetables, Mr and Mrs Lestrade had kindly offered to take care of Alden as long as it would be needed and even Sherlock, usually doing his best to get himself in trouble at the worst moment had apparently understood that it really wasn't the time for that and had behaved, even offering his help to the DI without him even being forced to beg the consulting detective.
Letting his plate on the table, knowing that Michael would clean the place when arriving in the morning, the policeman exited the kitchen and made his way upstairs, taking care to be as silent as possible not to wake up the official who was snoring gently in bed. He undressed himself, letting his clothes lying carelessly on the floor despite the little voice in his head saying that it would upset the auburn. Greg crawled into the bed and placed a small kiss on his lover's naked shoulder outstripping from the duvet before falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

Mycroft woke up, feeling cold, understanding quickly that his partner had assumed nearly all the duvet by wrapping himself in it. Gently he tried to take back his part of the blanket without waking the other man who must have been back home very late according to the fact that the official hadn't heard him entering the house. Having reclaimed his part of the duvet, the auburn pushed himself against his husband's body to warm himself up, not caring about the smell of tobacco in the DI's hair. It was dawn and a few sunrays was already coming through the curtain. Trying to go back to sleep, the elder Holmes shoved his head in the inspector's neck and concentrated on the soft sound of his breath.
Half an hour later, understanding that he wouldn't be able to find sleep any more he stepped out of the bed, replacing carefully the duvet on his husband's shoulders and grabbed a nightgown, snorting at the view of the detective's clothes on the floor. Barefoot, the official joined the kitchen where he could heard Michael rummaging.
"Good morning Michael." he greeted the young man.
"Good morning sir." smiled the cook. "Would you like your breakfast now ?"
"No, thank you. I'll wait until Gregory is awoken. I'll just have a tea please." answered Mycroft, grabbing absentmindly a couple of grape seeds in a bowl on the table.
"Right sir. Where do you want it to be served ?" agreed Michael, filling the boiler with water.
"In my office please." replied the official before exiting the room and joining his private study.
He turned on his laptop and checked his email, deleting most of them just by looking at the title and the senders, reading only those sent by Anthea, all saying that the investigation was now over and that the trial should start in a couple of day. Smiling at the idea of the culprits being punished, the auburn replied to his PA and ordered her to keep him updated about any news that could come upon the case and advising her that he was taking a day off. He was really glad that the young woman was at his service since all those years and started to think that if she was to resign he would be in a bad position and made a mental note to give her a pay raise and a few more days off next time he would have the occasion to do so.

"Papa ! Look !" exclaimed the toddler, running to his dad, carrying a little crab.
"Whaou ! This is great Alden !" Gregory cheered him, looking amused and proud.
The family was strolling on a beach in Essex, the little boy running around his fathers, bringing them shells and little crabs and apparently enjoying himself greatly despite the sand covering his clothes. Mycroft was holding his husband by the waist, wearing only a white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and beige trousers, his shoes and socks in his left hand, letting down his usual three pieces suit to enjoy the warm sunny weather fully.
They had decided the same morning while picking up the little boy at Lestrade's parents house to bring him to the seafront to enjoy their day off without being disturbed, Greg even turning his phone off. As it wasn't the weekend yet, there was very few tourists, and the family could enjoy the beach without crossing anyone's path.
"Daddy, when are we eating?" suddenly asked the toddler coming back to the two men once again.
Mycroft glanced an interrogative look at his husband before answering to the boy. "You see the pier in the distance ? That's where we eat." he indicated to his son.
"We make the race !" requested Alden, starting to run as fast as he can.
Chuckling, the two men started jogging behind the boy. They were half the way when the detective threw his leg in his partner's way to make him tumble for Alden's greatest pleasure. The auburn rolled in the sand, surprised by his lover's action while the latter burst in laughing at the vision of the elder Holmes face against the ground. Pitying him, he offered his hand to the official who, willing to take revenge, grabbed it and pulled on it to unbalance the policeman who fell in the sand beside his husband.
"You bastard !" exclaimed the detective, punching softly Mycroft's shoulder.
"Come on ! You've started it !" replied the other man, tickling Gregory's ribs before standing up and rubbing the sand off his clothes. The detective raised to his feet, laughing frantically and placed a gentle kiss on his husband's cheek before taking his hand and joining his son who was already ahead of them.

Greg was carrying is son in his arm, water at mid-chest, wearing only his underwear, not having his swimming trunks with him. The little boy was splashing water to his father's face, giggling and smiling and the detective was enjoying his time, despite the cold water.
The official was sat on the sand, a French novel in his hands and sunglasses on his nose. He looked over his book to his husband and son and smiled, happy to see them taking fun. He didn't want to join them, not that he was a bad swimmer or that he didn't liked it, but he didn't like bathing in the sea, his delicate skin not sustaining the salty water. He put his book away and took of his shirt, folding it and using it as a cushion for his head, lying down enjoying the warmth of the sun. He usually didn't liked tanning, thinking that it was a waste of time but after all these days and nights spent confined in his windowless office, he was appreciating the soft wind and the daylight, even if that mean that he will probably burn like a crisp as he had no sun cream and a very pale skin. Chuckling at his own recklessness he closed his eyes and started humming one of The Kinks song. "The tax man's taken all my dough / And left me in my stately home / Lazing on a sunny afternoon / And I can't sail my yacht / He's taken everything I got / All I've got's this sunny afternoon / Save me, save me, save me from this squeeze / I gotta big fat mama trying to break me / And I love to live so pleasantly / Live this life of luxury / Lazing on a sunny afternoon / In the summertime/ In the summertime / In the summertime"
"You want to do a surprise to Daddy ?" Greg asked his son a little while later.
"Yes!" exclaimed the toddler joyfully. His fingers were rumpled because of the time spent in the water and he was starting to look a little tired. The detective walked out of the water and approached the auburn quietly before tickling him savagely, waking up the drowsing man.
"For ... the ... Queen ... sake ... Greg !" the official tried to lectured him, unable to articulate through the mad laugher the tickling were provoking.
"What ? You want more ?" chuckled the yarder, winking at his son. "Ok, come on Alden, help me !". Attacking the other ribs, the little boy was laughing nearly as much as his dad who was trying to strap up his boyfriend but just achieved eating sand, making him cough and swear in mid voice.
"Try not to die please love, I've forgotten to bring my shovel to bury you." the older man joked, releasing his partner after a last attack.
"Thank you for your concern darling." replied the latter, deadpan before sitting up and bringing his two attackers near him in a fond hug.

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Thank you to : Lilian, Am, and Bee for the help on the 3 last chapters and especially to Timor for the police stuff. xxx