yesterday at the store, i said “babe” to get my girlfriends attention and like four women who aren’t my girlfriend looked at me and the lesbian power fjrjfndmsmzksp
i said it again at the bar and the bartender turned like i was talking to her djfnfjdndkdjd
And when they bake together Greg always picks the ugliest scone or whatever and has it for Sunday breakfast because he says it tastes the best and Mycroft can’t stop him. And Mycroft pretends to be displeased at him deliberately picking the ugly one but actually he just loves Greg so endlessly much and they sit together at the table having breakfast, holding hands, feet together under the table
“That will be all, detective inspector,” Mycroft said in a clipped tone.
Even if he hadn’t explicitly stated the dismissal, Greg would’ve heard it in his voice. Mycroft had been absent-minded and irritated for most of their discussion, even though the actual topic had been a mild one. Greg was sure that someone else wouldn’t have been able to pick up on the subtle changes of speech that betrayed Mycroft’s mental state, but he knew the man so well by now that he actually worried. It wasn’t unusual for Greg to worry – he was concerned about almost everyone who stepped into his life for more than a few days. It’s what made him such a good inspector, but also what made his work so very difficult sometimes.
Mycroft though… Mycroft was different. Greg knew how a Holmes worked by now. He had known the man for years. So he collected all his courage and stared at Mycroft, who had turned his attention back to a printout on his desk. A few seconds passed, then Mycroft raised his head again, eyes focussing on Greg’s, a slight frown on his face.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Mycroft asked, though it seemed more like an order to leave immediately than an actual question.
“Are you alright?” Greg said before he could stop himself. “You don’t seem like… yourself.”
Green Violin Bow 