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“Dad?”
“Hmmm?” Greg was lost in his memories as he was dancing alone in the room.
“What were you doing here?” his daughter stepped in.
“Nothing, nothing,” he mumbled. “What do you think of this venue?”
“It is lovely,”
“But?” he could tell there was a but.
“Henry is not that enthusiastic about it.”
“Too old fashioned?”
“Well,” she mumbled.
“It is your wedding my dear, your choice.”
“You were the one wanting to see this venue.”
“I just,” Greg sighed. “I thought it was gorgeous…but apparently this shows that I’m old.” he chuckled.
“Not old,” she stepped closer to him. “Dad, you are crying,”
“No, nonsense.” Greg turned away from her.
“Dad,” she placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m fine Charlotte. Just as the wedding date is getting close…your old dad gets emotional,”
“Liar,”
“Your father taught you too well.” Greg cleared his throat.
“You were dancing in here, alone,” she took Greg’s hands.
“Nah, just looking around.” he mumbled.
“Is it about father?”
“I wish he could be here with us,” Greg took a shaky breath. “He’d be so excited about your wedding,” Greg held her hands tightly, his tears were falling uncontrollably.
“Too excited,” she chuckled.
“Yeah, possible.” Greg smiled faintly.
“So, tell me…what happened here?”
“It was a police charity ball, Mycroft made a huge donation,”
“To compensate for the trouble uncle Sherlock caused?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting him to turn up, but he did. Gorgeous as always,” he sighed looking at the door. He still clearly remembered Mycroft entering the ballroom, his eyes searching the crowd, his smile when he finally spotted Greg.
“DI Lestrade,” he approached him.
“Mycroft, how many times I have to ask you to call me Greg.” he smiled.
“Not sure your superiors would be pleased knowing you are friends with the enemy.” Mycroft whispered with a smile.
“So we are friends?” Greg already had a few drinks which made talking to Mycroft much easier. When they had dinner together to discuss Sherlock’s antics Greg usually feared he’d say something stupid to the gorgeous genius sitting opposite him.
“I believe we are friends Gregory.” Mycroft broke the silence. “I see you more often than my own family, we talk almost daily, you know thing about me no one else does,”
“I’m honoured.” he smiled at Mycroft. “What brought you to our humble ball?”
“My brother,” he sighed. “Some diplomacy and a sizable donation was needed to calm the matters.”
“Sherlock is lucky to have you as his brother.”
“Not if you ask him.”
“He is an idiot. He sees your immeasurable love and concern towards him as a burden,”
“He still thinks I’m trying to control his life,” Mycroft sighed.
“I wish someone would care for me the way you do for him.” Greg whispered, he immediately regretted saying it out loud, he sounded rather pathetic.
“Gregory,” Mycroft said hesitantly. “You consider me to be your friend?”
“Yes, Mycroft. One of my closest friends to be honest.”
“Friend,” Mycroft said carefully. “A person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection,”
“If you want to say it that way,” Greg shrugged.
“I must confess that I feel an intense deep affection for you,” Mycroft whispered, staring into Greg’s deep brown eyes.
“Are you saying what I think you are saying?” Greg stepped close to him.
“I,” Mycroft hesitated.
“Because I love you too.” Greg took his hand,
“You, love me,” Mycroft whispered with disbelief. “But I’m fat, ugly, annoying,”
“I believe my own eyes and my own experience not what your brother says,” Greg leant closer to him. “May I kiss you?” Greg’s lips were only a hairbreath away from Mycroft’s.
“I thought you’d never ask.” Mycroft whispered before closing the space between them.
“Dad!”
“Sorry, got lost again.” Greg smiled. “He confessed his love to me here, had our first kiss here, danced all night long,” he sighed.
“The wedding?”
“Was here as well. That doesn’t mean you have to choose it. I just,”
“Wanted to come back here,”
“Guilty,” he smiled.
“You know the garden is gorgeous,” Charlotte took Greg’s arm, pulling him towards the garden.
“It is…we had the wedding ceremony under the oak tree.” he pointed at it.
“I really like this garden, I think…we could have the ceremony here.”
“If that is what you want.” Greg was fighting with his tears again.
“That is what I want.” she pulled Greg to a hug.
“Thank you,” Greg whispered.