Chapter Text
April rain was still cold and dreary but at least it wasn’t pissing down as it had yesterday.
Greg stared out the window of his new office silently thankful that he wasn’t the one who had to take calls in this weather any longer. That fun job had been given to newly minted D.I. Sally Donovan.
No, Greg was now in this nice office deciding if he wanted to go to the canteen to get a coffee or wait until the radiator finally spit out enough heat to finally warm this office so he could start the mound of paperwork on his desk. He had a meeting in 20 minutes as well.
God, he missed being on scene. Even damp and dreary, he’d be content.
There was a knock on his office door and Greg turned away from the window, the rain sliding down the windowpane. His dark eyes brightened as Mycroft stepped through the door, impeccably dressed as always and better still, carrying two to-go cups of coffee.
“You read my mind.” Crossing the room, he took both cups so Mycroft could take off his overcoat and hang it up. The umbrella was hung over another hook.
“I know your mind,” Mycroft amended. “How many times have you been lamenting that you aren’t out in this horrid weather slowly getting waterlogged while standing over a crime scene?”
Greg flushed as he took his first drink of coffee. Hot, with a hint of cinnamon. Mycroft had gone to their favorite coffee shop. “At least twice. And it’s not even 9 am yet. How bad is it outside?”
“Not wet enough to make travel dangerous but wet enough to make everything miserable.” He took his own coffee back and took a fortifying drink. “Are you prepared for this meeting?”
It was the first joint awareness meeting since Greg had been promoted which is why his husband was currently in his office. He always sat in on these meetings.
“No, but I’m as good as I’m going to get.”
Setting his cup back on the desk, Mycroft approached Greg, hand smoothing over the new suit, flattening the lapels, and brushing off imaginary dust.
“I daresay, husband mine, you will find that you are more than adequately briefed for this meeting. More so than many of the other participants.”
Greg took hold of Mycroft’s hands and held them against his chest. “Only because I have someone who is diligent at making sure I am kept up to date.”
Matching Greg’s smile, Mycroft leaned in, pressing a kiss to his husband’s lips. The kiss lingered, a little less chaste than it should have been, and Greg found himself licking his lips as they parted.
“You taste like mocha.”
Eyebrow raised, Mycroft picked up his coffee cup again. “I’ll never tell.”
Behind them, the rain still fell from a grey, cloudy sky but inside that room there was enough warmth to keep the chill away.