Fic for Blue_Eyed_1987: The Love You Give
Title: The Love You Give
Recipient: blue_eyed_1987
Author: alafaye
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock/John/Greg
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: It isn't always the family we are given that make the holidays special.
A/N: Thank you to my beta, slanderouslibel.
John frowned as Greg kept his distance at the crime scene. Well, more than usual, that is. They were all careful about keeping their personal life and professional life separate. (Difficult for John and Sherlock; it was all one in the same for them.) Today, however, Greg seemed particularly careful about it. Although--
"Yes," Sherlock muttered. He didn't look up from the corpse he was examining. She was facedown, legs and arms at odd angles, and a pool of blood framed her body.
John hummed. Sherlock sighed. "Greg's avoiding everyone. Don't take it personally."
John looked at Greg again and then back at Sherlock. He kneeled down and tried to at least look like he belonged at the scene. "Do you know why?"
"His wife," Sherlock said. "The kids."
"Kids?" John frowned.
Sherlock cleared his throat and stood quickly. "Find her mother-in-law. She'll likely be in Brighton."
"Brighton?" Greg asked.
Sherlock nodded. "Brighton. Ask the the mother-in-law about her recent trip to Brazil."
Greg sighed. "I suppose the toxicology report will show..."
"A rare poison," Sherlock finished. He removed the gloves effortlessly and put his hands in his pockets. "The daughter-in-law, our corpse, took something valuable from the mother-in-law. The diamond on her finger--family heirloom that the mother-in-law didn't want to give? Simple thievery? You can interview the mother-in-law and let me know. Also, when you have something worth my time, text me."
Sherlock swept out of the room, John on his heels. John looked back at Greg who rallied his team after Sherlock's dismissal. "Kids?" John pressed.
"Forget it," Sherlock muttered. He looked down both ends of the street and started off opposite of home.
John rounded his shoulders down against the wind as he followed his lover. "Can't."
"Can," Sherlock said. "Just delete it."
John snorted. "It may be easy for you to just delete information, but it isn't for the rest of us. Besides, even you can't deny that you would be hounding Greg if something like that came to your attention."
Sherlock hummed thoughtfully. He darted down a side alley, over a fence, and through someone's backyard. John followed quickly, not wanting to get caught. Another alley, back of a chippie, industrial bin, construction yard, main road. Sherlock continued on the road, looking non chalant but his head kept turning fractionally. Had this been a year ago, John would have missed Sherlock turning to take everything. Now, John could only ever hope to be even a fraction attentive as Sherlock was.
"I wouldn't forget it, no," Sherlock said sometime later. They had continued drifting along, but were now heading back home, to Baker Street.
John, now used to Sherlock's seeming non sequitors, didn't pause in his steps. "You would know already. Moot point."
"No," Sherlock said. "I didn't know about his wife's cheating until a year after I met him."
"Mm, not what I meant. You couldn't have known about the cheating until Greg knew. Or you met her. Either way."
Sherlock sighed. "Fine. I didn't know how you took your tea until three months into our co-habitation."
"All right, point. Nevertheless, you do admit you wouldn't forget it."
"I couldn't. I do admit that I want to know everything about you and Greg. You both fascinate me endlessly. Not for how ordinary you are nor for how intelligent you both are given your ordinariness. How you interact with each other, how you go about your lives. I may dispise ordinariness, John, and I may endlessly scorn the boring humdrum of everyday life, but how it can direct crime, how it affects other lives--I am fascinated."
John considered that for several streets. He had a diverting thought that his conversations with Sherlock were like none that he had with others. They required time to think and would stretch out for days at a time. He wondered how any relationship could survive that kind of contact.
"Will we ever become...unfascinating?"
Sherlock clucked his tongue at the word, but skipped the lecture about using words that didn't exist. (It need not be said that there had been one lengthy discussion on whether words created for the internet could be words.) "I doubt it. As I said, I find everyday life fascinating, but until living with you and then sharing a bed with you--then later Greg--I did not know how changing everyday life could be. For example, I am aware that people age. Their hair greys, their skin dulls, their walk slows. Yet I did not realize how time's passage affects character or actions or routine. Or even relationships. I don't think I need to say that given such information will only draw me in time and again with you both."
John smiled, flattered despite the tone of Sherlock's speech. "Good to know we're a great diversion."
"Not a diversion, John. Never." Sherlock looked John up and down, calculating. "Ask Greg later about the kids. I wouldn't hope for too much the first time you ask, but pester him enough and he'll tell you."
"No one is you, Sherlock. We don't pester one another."
"Then it's a wonder any of you manage to have conversations and discussions."
~~~
John didn't see Greg until a few days later when he showed up to let Sherlock know why the mother-in-law had killed her daughter-in-law.
"Didn't approve of her son's wife," Greg said. "And just before she went to Brazil, the son told his mother that she likely wouldn't get grandchildren. Seems like that was the last straw."
Sherlock frowned as John smirked. Greg chuckled. "Missed that one."
Sherlock scoffed and sulked further into the couch. "Not now."
"Tea?" John offered into the silence. Sherlock waved his hand and Greg followed John into the kitchen. "Staying for dinner?"
Greg shrugged. "Suppose I could. What's on?"
"Ah, Chinese?" John asked. "Haven't done the shopping yet."
Greg nodded. There was silence as the kettle boiled and the tea steeped. John worried his lip as Greg sipped his tea with a small smile.
"Everything all right?" John asked finally.
"Fine," Greg said tersely.
"Not!" Sherlock shouted from the living room.
Greg rolled his eyes up. "None of your business, Sherlock."
John cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows when Greg looked at him. Greg groaned. "Told you, did he? Suppose he also told you about how she's petitioned to keep full custody of the kids, citing that my job is a danger to them and that until the court has decided, I'm not allowed to see my own kids for the holiday!"
"He hadn't," John said into the silence that fell.
Greg flushed. Sherlock entered the kitchen silently. "She's trying to keep the kids?"
Greg looked away. "Yeah."
John looked between the two men he held close, feeling out the air between them. Sherlock took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I know how much your kids mean to you."
"I talked to Missy the other week," Greg said with a sad smile. "I got to talk to her for five minutes before her mother caught on. She misses you."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Does she now? Surprising--I believe the last time I saw her, I made her cry."
"Girls," Greg said with a shrug. He looked into his tea. "I should've told you John."
"I suppose I could understand, seeing how vindictive your ex is being." John glanced at Sherlock who looked lost. "How about we go to the pub instead tonight?"
Greg shook his head. "Nah. I want a nice, quiet night in where you both prove equally distracting will do me the most good."
"Granted," Sherlock said, eager to be helpful instead of lost. "We'll watch something insipid and I'll grill John on exactly why it's a...what is the word? A cult classic."
~~~
As Christmas drew ever nearer, Greg grew quieter. He continued to keep his distance and John became more worried for him.
"I don't understand," Sherlock said, frustrated, on the twentieth.
"Understand what?" John asked. He was staring at the empty window of his blog, trying to decide how best to open this particular case involving a cane, a chocolate coin, and a cat toy.
"Greg's personal life should not make you as upset as you are," Sherlock huffed.
"I want to help him," John said. It's often the mundane, everyday things that can surprise us. He studied the sentence, finger hovering over the backspace.
"Delete it," Sherlock muttered. "Your finger is ready to delete it, therefore you know it's awful. Start again."
John sighed and closed his laptop. "Sherlock--"
"There's nothing you can do to help Greg," Sherlock said. Always having three conversations at once, John thought to himself. It's no wonder Greg hasn't been around. "Therefore, stop worrying about it."
John took a deep breath, hoping for patience. "It doesn't matter that I can't help. I know that there is nothing I can do about the petition or him not seeing his kids. What does matter to me is that while he is suffering, I can do nothing to even distract him."
"Because he's hiding," Sherlock said. He narrowed his eyes. "I see. Do I? What do I see?"
John half smiled. "You're as worried as I am, prat." He opened his screen and agreed that the opening sentence was crap. He deleted it and started over. What do a can, chocolate coin, cat toy, and a set of stairs involve? Cheeky, he liked it.
Sherlock sighed. "We can always visit him."
"No. If we go visit him, he'll shut us out even more."
"Invite him over?"
"Tried. If you can succeed, let me know and I'll make sure that we have enough for three on Christmas."
~~~
"John's worried," Sherlock announced quietly as he slipped into Greg's flat.
"One day, Sherlock," Greg warned, looking over the top of the paper.
Sherlock scoffed and folded himself onto the sofa. "I'm worried, myself. Which is unusual--it's not an emotion I feel often. Usually only when you and John are concerned."
"What are we talking about?" Greg asked.
"Christmas," Sherlock said.
"As in?"
Sherlock huffed. "Stay. With us. For Christmas."
"You hate Christmas."
"But you and John love it. Ergo, I'll make a concession." Sherlock paused only slightly. "John said he'll go shopping for it if you come."
"Not much point getting anything when it'll only be him eating it." Greg folded his paper and shook his head. "I think...I'm going to spend it by myself here."
"Waiting for your kids to sneak away and call you," Sherlock said.
Greg scrubbed his face. "A man needs his peace, Sherlock."
Quiet reigned for a long, tense moment. Sherlock looked away first. "I had thought that...perhaps...we--John and myself--would be at least adequate to spend time with on a holiday meant for celebrating love."
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Guilt me into spending Christmas with you."
Sherlock swallowed. "I'm not trying to. Or want to. I simply...I don't like Christmas. You are correct about that. However, I recognize that the holiday is a celebration of the family you make as well as the one you have. Mycroft and I don't do Christmas. We both disdain the holiday. John and his sister are different, but their differences on alcohol keep them apart. I may not celebrate, but John does and so do you. You are both my lovers and you celebrate the holiday. Ergo, I will accept the holiday for what it is and ask that I can spend it with the family I have made."
Greg tapped his fingers on his knee. "You're sincere."
"Yes."
"Let me think about it."
~~~
Go shopping. -SH
He agreed?
He doesn't know yet. -SH
You can't make a person's decision for them
I'm not. I explained why I wanted him over for Christmas and he's agreed. Though, as I said, he doesn't know that yet. -SH
Wait, you want him over for Christmas?
Is it impossible that I do? -SH
You don't Christmas
I don't, but I do like to spend time with you both. -SH
:)
Ugh, smiley faces. Go do the shopping. -SH
:D :) :D
~~~
Greg arrived on Christmas Eve wet due to an unexpected rain storm, but he seemed a bit happier. Sherlock skipped a note as he played, eyes slitted with pleasure. John took Greg's overnight bag and stored it in Sherlock's room (which was nothing more than a storage bin now).
"I hope you did the shopping," Greg said.
"Of course," Sherlock said. "He went shopping after I met with you."
Greg raised his chin and crossed his arms. "Did he?"
"Sherlock said he'd convinced you," John said.
Sherlock shrugged at Greg's narrowed eyes. "I can read people in a flash. Of course I knew before you did."
Greg sighed, part lovingly and part suffering. "Why did I ever think you could ever be a good man?"
"I am ever surprised that you consider me so," Sherlock said. He continued playing.
John pulled Greg into the living room where he'd built up a fire and chestnuts were roasting. The turkey was thawing in the fridge, the eggnog mixed, and the presents under the tree. It certainly was not the holiday John had thought of nor the one Sherlock preferred, but it was good. John pulled Greg down next to him on the hearth rug with a smile.
Recipient: blue_eyed_1987
Author: alafaye
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock/John/Greg
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: It isn't always the family we are given that make the holidays special.
A/N: Thank you to my beta, slanderouslibel.
John frowned as Greg kept his distance at the crime scene. Well, more than usual, that is. They were all careful about keeping their personal life and professional life separate. (Difficult for John and Sherlock; it was all one in the same for them.) Today, however, Greg seemed particularly careful about it. Although--
"Yes," Sherlock muttered. He didn't look up from the corpse he was examining. She was facedown, legs and arms at odd angles, and a pool of blood framed her body.
John hummed. Sherlock sighed. "Greg's avoiding everyone. Don't take it personally."
John looked at Greg again and then back at Sherlock. He kneeled down and tried to at least look like he belonged at the scene. "Do you know why?"
"His wife," Sherlock said. "The kids."
"Kids?" John frowned.
Sherlock cleared his throat and stood quickly. "Find her mother-in-law. She'll likely be in Brighton."
"Brighton?" Greg asked.
Sherlock nodded. "Brighton. Ask the the mother-in-law about her recent trip to Brazil."
Greg sighed. "I suppose the toxicology report will show..."
"A rare poison," Sherlock finished. He removed the gloves effortlessly and put his hands in his pockets. "The daughter-in-law, our corpse, took something valuable from the mother-in-law. The diamond on her finger--family heirloom that the mother-in-law didn't want to give? Simple thievery? You can interview the mother-in-law and let me know. Also, when you have something worth my time, text me."
Sherlock swept out of the room, John on his heels. John looked back at Greg who rallied his team after Sherlock's dismissal. "Kids?" John pressed.
"Forget it," Sherlock muttered. He looked down both ends of the street and started off opposite of home.
John rounded his shoulders down against the wind as he followed his lover. "Can't."
"Can," Sherlock said. "Just delete it."
John snorted. "It may be easy for you to just delete information, but it isn't for the rest of us. Besides, even you can't deny that you would be hounding Greg if something like that came to your attention."
Sherlock hummed thoughtfully. He darted down a side alley, over a fence, and through someone's backyard. John followed quickly, not wanting to get caught. Another alley, back of a chippie, industrial bin, construction yard, main road. Sherlock continued on the road, looking non chalant but his head kept turning fractionally. Had this been a year ago, John would have missed Sherlock turning to take everything. Now, John could only ever hope to be even a fraction attentive as Sherlock was.
"I wouldn't forget it, no," Sherlock said sometime later. They had continued drifting along, but were now heading back home, to Baker Street.
John, now used to Sherlock's seeming non sequitors, didn't pause in his steps. "You would know already. Moot point."
"No," Sherlock said. "I didn't know about his wife's cheating until a year after I met him."
"Mm, not what I meant. You couldn't have known about the cheating until Greg knew. Or you met her. Either way."
Sherlock sighed. "Fine. I didn't know how you took your tea until three months into our co-habitation."
"All right, point. Nevertheless, you do admit you wouldn't forget it."
"I couldn't. I do admit that I want to know everything about you and Greg. You both fascinate me endlessly. Not for how ordinary you are nor for how intelligent you both are given your ordinariness. How you interact with each other, how you go about your lives. I may dispise ordinariness, John, and I may endlessly scorn the boring humdrum of everyday life, but how it can direct crime, how it affects other lives--I am fascinated."
John considered that for several streets. He had a diverting thought that his conversations with Sherlock were like none that he had with others. They required time to think and would stretch out for days at a time. He wondered how any relationship could survive that kind of contact.
"Will we ever become...unfascinating?"
Sherlock clucked his tongue at the word, but skipped the lecture about using words that didn't exist. (It need not be said that there had been one lengthy discussion on whether words created for the internet could be words.) "I doubt it. As I said, I find everyday life fascinating, but until living with you and then sharing a bed with you--then later Greg--I did not know how changing everyday life could be. For example, I am aware that people age. Their hair greys, their skin dulls, their walk slows. Yet I did not realize how time's passage affects character or actions or routine. Or even relationships. I don't think I need to say that given such information will only draw me in time and again with you both."
John smiled, flattered despite the tone of Sherlock's speech. "Good to know we're a great diversion."
"Not a diversion, John. Never." Sherlock looked John up and down, calculating. "Ask Greg later about the kids. I wouldn't hope for too much the first time you ask, but pester him enough and he'll tell you."
"No one is you, Sherlock. We don't pester one another."
"Then it's a wonder any of you manage to have conversations and discussions."
~~~
John didn't see Greg until a few days later when he showed up to let Sherlock know why the mother-in-law had killed her daughter-in-law.
"Didn't approve of her son's wife," Greg said. "And just before she went to Brazil, the son told his mother that she likely wouldn't get grandchildren. Seems like that was the last straw."
Sherlock frowned as John smirked. Greg chuckled. "Missed that one."
Sherlock scoffed and sulked further into the couch. "Not now."
"Tea?" John offered into the silence. Sherlock waved his hand and Greg followed John into the kitchen. "Staying for dinner?"
Greg shrugged. "Suppose I could. What's on?"
"Ah, Chinese?" John asked. "Haven't done the shopping yet."
Greg nodded. There was silence as the kettle boiled and the tea steeped. John worried his lip as Greg sipped his tea with a small smile.
"Everything all right?" John asked finally.
"Fine," Greg said tersely.
"Not!" Sherlock shouted from the living room.
Greg rolled his eyes up. "None of your business, Sherlock."
John cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows when Greg looked at him. Greg groaned. "Told you, did he? Suppose he also told you about how she's petitioned to keep full custody of the kids, citing that my job is a danger to them and that until the court has decided, I'm not allowed to see my own kids for the holiday!"
"He hadn't," John said into the silence that fell.
Greg flushed. Sherlock entered the kitchen silently. "She's trying to keep the kids?"
Greg looked away. "Yeah."
John looked between the two men he held close, feeling out the air between them. Sherlock took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I know how much your kids mean to you."
"I talked to Missy the other week," Greg said with a sad smile. "I got to talk to her for five minutes before her mother caught on. She misses you."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Does she now? Surprising--I believe the last time I saw her, I made her cry."
"Girls," Greg said with a shrug. He looked into his tea. "I should've told you John."
"I suppose I could understand, seeing how vindictive your ex is being." John glanced at Sherlock who looked lost. "How about we go to the pub instead tonight?"
Greg shook his head. "Nah. I want a nice, quiet night in where you both prove equally distracting will do me the most good."
"Granted," Sherlock said, eager to be helpful instead of lost. "We'll watch something insipid and I'll grill John on exactly why it's a...what is the word? A cult classic."
~~~
As Christmas drew ever nearer, Greg grew quieter. He continued to keep his distance and John became more worried for him.
"I don't understand," Sherlock said, frustrated, on the twentieth.
"Understand what?" John asked. He was staring at the empty window of his blog, trying to decide how best to open this particular case involving a cane, a chocolate coin, and a cat toy.
"Greg's personal life should not make you as upset as you are," Sherlock huffed.
"I want to help him," John said. It's often the mundane, everyday things that can surprise us. He studied the sentence, finger hovering over the backspace.
"Delete it," Sherlock muttered. "Your finger is ready to delete it, therefore you know it's awful. Start again."
John sighed and closed his laptop. "Sherlock--"
"There's nothing you can do to help Greg," Sherlock said. Always having three conversations at once, John thought to himself. It's no wonder Greg hasn't been around. "Therefore, stop worrying about it."
John took a deep breath, hoping for patience. "It doesn't matter that I can't help. I know that there is nothing I can do about the petition or him not seeing his kids. What does matter to me is that while he is suffering, I can do nothing to even distract him."
"Because he's hiding," Sherlock said. He narrowed his eyes. "I see. Do I? What do I see?"
John half smiled. "You're as worried as I am, prat." He opened his screen and agreed that the opening sentence was crap. He deleted it and started over. What do a can, chocolate coin, cat toy, and a set of stairs involve? Cheeky, he liked it.
Sherlock sighed. "We can always visit him."
"No. If we go visit him, he'll shut us out even more."
"Invite him over?"
"Tried. If you can succeed, let me know and I'll make sure that we have enough for three on Christmas."
~~~
"John's worried," Sherlock announced quietly as he slipped into Greg's flat.
"One day, Sherlock," Greg warned, looking over the top of the paper.
Sherlock scoffed and folded himself onto the sofa. "I'm worried, myself. Which is unusual--it's not an emotion I feel often. Usually only when you and John are concerned."
"What are we talking about?" Greg asked.
"Christmas," Sherlock said.
"As in?"
Sherlock huffed. "Stay. With us. For Christmas."
"You hate Christmas."
"But you and John love it. Ergo, I'll make a concession." Sherlock paused only slightly. "John said he'll go shopping for it if you come."
"Not much point getting anything when it'll only be him eating it." Greg folded his paper and shook his head. "I think...I'm going to spend it by myself here."
"Waiting for your kids to sneak away and call you," Sherlock said.
Greg scrubbed his face. "A man needs his peace, Sherlock."
Quiet reigned for a long, tense moment. Sherlock looked away first. "I had thought that...perhaps...we--John and myself--would be at least adequate to spend time with on a holiday meant for celebrating love."
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Guilt me into spending Christmas with you."
Sherlock swallowed. "I'm not trying to. Or want to. I simply...I don't like Christmas. You are correct about that. However, I recognize that the holiday is a celebration of the family you make as well as the one you have. Mycroft and I don't do Christmas. We both disdain the holiday. John and his sister are different, but their differences on alcohol keep them apart. I may not celebrate, but John does and so do you. You are both my lovers and you celebrate the holiday. Ergo, I will accept the holiday for what it is and ask that I can spend it with the family I have made."
Greg tapped his fingers on his knee. "You're sincere."
"Yes."
"Let me think about it."
~~~
Go shopping. -SH
He agreed?
He doesn't know yet. -SH
You can't make a person's decision for them
I'm not. I explained why I wanted him over for Christmas and he's agreed. Though, as I said, he doesn't know that yet. -SH
Wait, you want him over for Christmas?
Is it impossible that I do? -SH
You don't Christmas
I don't, but I do like to spend time with you both. -SH
:)
Ugh, smiley faces. Go do the shopping. -SH
:D :) :D
~~~
Greg arrived on Christmas Eve wet due to an unexpected rain storm, but he seemed a bit happier. Sherlock skipped a note as he played, eyes slitted with pleasure. John took Greg's overnight bag and stored it in Sherlock's room (which was nothing more than a storage bin now).
"I hope you did the shopping," Greg said.
"Of course," Sherlock said. "He went shopping after I met with you."
Greg raised his chin and crossed his arms. "Did he?"
"Sherlock said he'd convinced you," John said.
Sherlock shrugged at Greg's narrowed eyes. "I can read people in a flash. Of course I knew before you did."
Greg sighed, part lovingly and part suffering. "Why did I ever think you could ever be a good man?"
"I am ever surprised that you consider me so," Sherlock said. He continued playing.
John pulled Greg into the living room where he'd built up a fire and chestnuts were roasting. The turkey was thawing in the fridge, the eggnog mixed, and the presents under the tree. It certainly was not the holiday John had thought of nor the one Sherlock preferred, but it was good. John pulled Greg down next to him on the hearth rug with a smile.