The Assistant Headmaster (Mystrade Fanfic)

Thirty Seven

A/N: Howdy everyone! How are you all? Here's a new chapter, I hope you all enjoy it. I read your ideas for the next stories and they're all very good and I hope to write something for every one of them, so thanks so much for the suggestions! I love you all! 

-CH

Greg

Mycroft's room was different to what I expected it to be. While it had a framed periodic table hung on the blue wall and a bookshelf full of books on the sciences, it still held a boyish edge that I couldn't help but revel in.

"What?" Mycroft asked, sounding almost self-conscious.

"What?" I repeated, confused.

"You just laughed. Why'd you laugh? What's wrong with it?"

I chuckled again and gently kissed Mycroft's soft mouth that was pulled down in a frown. "Nothing's wrong with it. Nothing at all. There's no need to worry, I was just thinking about how normal it almost is."

"What do you mean? Isn't everyone's rooms like this?"

"Not really. Mine's kind of got more rugby posters on it and such. Trophies. Calendars of naked women..." My voice trailed off and Mycroft scoffed.

"Oh, the irony."

I rolled my eyes and went over to Mycroft's king sized bed, dropping down onto it. "Ooh, this is comfortable," I said, bouncing on it slightly. "Just like a cloud."

"You like it, do you?" Mycroft asked, taking off his shoes. He laid down on the bed beside me and put his arms around my waist.

"Of course, it's real nice."

Mycroft leaned down and kissed my neck and chuckled as my breath audibly hitched. "You're always so responsive," he growled playfully.

"You know I'm a slut for neck kisses."

He pulled away and looked at me with wide eyes, leaning up on his elbow. "You what?"

"Nothing, it was a joke. Nevermind."

Mycroft continued to stare down into my eyes for what seemed like a decade, just judging me, before he sighed and dropped back down onto the bed beside me. "You're awfully weird."

"You love it really."

"Correction: I love you."

I hummed. "I love you too."

"Boys!" Came a voice from downstairs. "Dinner's ready!"

Mycroft placed a tender kiss on my lips before sighing again. "Come on, let's go eat."

We went downstairs and sat around the dinner table. Mrs. Holmes' lasagne tasted amazing, though that didn't surprise me in the slightest.

"Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Holmes. It's wonderful," I said truthfully.

I could've sworn the woman blushed. "It's no problem at all, Greg. You're truly a delight to have in our home. Myc, bring him home more often, will you? It's refreshing to have a young man who appreciates what I do around the home - neither of my boys take any notice."

"Mummy..." Mycroft sighed tiredly.

"I'm just teasing," Mrs. Holmes said, rolling her eyes. When Mycroft looked away, she mouthed 'No I'm not,' to me, and I let out a chuckle.

"What?" Mycroft asked, looking at me.

"Nothing," I said, covering it up with a cough. Mrs. Holmes chuckled too, and Mycroft looked somewhat impatient but covered it up with a smile.

As the conversation continued on, I found that Mycroft's parents were almost normal, even though I knew they were exceptionally intellectual and more so than I - or most of the population of London - could ever hope to be. Compared to Mycroft, they were far more human. Mr. Holmes had no issue starting up conversation with me, and Mrs. Holmes would smile and laugh as I spoke. Mr. Holmes had a genuine laugh, and Mrs. Holmes eyes sparkled whenever she spoke.

They made me feel welcome, like I was already part of the family, but Sherlock's words kept going through my mind. 'Leave him while you're ahead... You're nothing but a toy for him.' My heart raced at the thought and I found myself getting increasingly anxious.

I felt Mycroft's hand on my thigh and he leaned in close, obviously realising I'd gone a bit quiet. "Are you alright, Love?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied, trying to smile reassuringly. His eyes studied mine, and he nodded finally. I knew he knew I was lying, but the passing moment had served as something of an agreement to talk about it later.

"So, Greg," Mr. Holmes said, "What do you want to do when you leave school?"

"I want to be in the police force. My main goal is to become a detective inspector."

"Very good, our younger son Sherlock's interested in detective work too. Although he wants to branch off and create his own job. 'Consulting Detective,' he calls it."

"Oh, that's cool. I imagine he'd be very good at that, if he's anything like Mycroft. Judging by what I've seen of him he is, too."

Mrs. Holmes sighed. "You've met him then, have you?"

"Twice, I think." Sherlock was actually the breaking point for me to get with Mycroft. Now he'd probably be the cause of the end. "He spoke to me outside when we came in."

I could sense Mycroft stiffen beside me and could almost feel his thoughts drifting into my mind. So that's what's wrong. "Yes. He was as unbearable as ever. He gets no better than that, I'm afraid."

"Yes, he has been a bit out of control recently. Luckily Mycroft got him a place in Baskerville. He'll be there next year," Mrs. Holmes said, looking at her elder son fondly.

"I have him a nice roommate too. He should enjoy it," Mycroft's eyes shone mischievously.

"Are you sure it's going to work?" Mr. Holmes asked, somewhat sceptically. "I don't want this other boy's mind tainted because of ours."

Mycroft chuckled almost sinisterly. This was an entirely different side of him. "Trust me, it'll be worth it. They'll shine for each other, I guarantee it."

Mrs. Holmes looked at me. "Please make sure my boys stay off of each other's throats when Sherlock starts there. Between the two of them alone they could create World War Three."

I laughed. "Don't worry, Mrs. Holmes, I'll look out for them both."

"You're such a kind soul, Greg. Thank you for becoming part of Mycroft's life. I can't wait until I can call you my son-in-"

"Whoa! He's still in school!" Mycroft interrupted her before turning to me. "Sorry about that. Don't listen to her. She's old and senile."

I frowned at Mycroft and his less-than-respectful comment about his mother. I pursed my lips and he coughed sheepishly.

"Sorry Mummy. You know I don't mean that."

Mrs. Holmes ignored him and continued to look at me fondly. "Welcome to the family, Greg. I hope you're here to stay."

"I do too, Mrs. Holmes. I do too."