Breaking the ice {Mystrade}

Chapter 21 - Mothers, Moving in and Muppets

"Alright. Yep. Yes, I know I need to buy the potatoes. Yes, I know Lydia's husband's coming. No, I won't call him my brother in law. Right, bye. Bye Mum. Love you, bye. Yep, I'll let you know if Mycroft can come. I will, I will. Yep, you too. Goodbye mum. Bye." Greg flopped down onto the sofa opposite Mycroft, rubbing his eyes in desperation.
"Everything okay?" Mycroft grinned, his eyes full of mirth.
"Hey you, stop laughing! Isn't it your turn to give your parentals a ring?"
"Me? Mother, yes I suppose, but do you really think father and I have cosy catchups and exchange gifts at Christmas?" he chuckled. "Sherlock's invited me to his little gathering on Christmas Eve. I might even go this year... that is if Mrs H can put up with me... and if I can put up with her after one of her 'herbal soothers'."
"Yeah, you have to come! The amount that you lot have been through this year, I think it's only right you should have some kind of get-together. Plus, Sherlock's about 30% less of a prick these days. Oh, and I'll be there!" Greg winked at the auburn who rose from his chair to join him on the larger sofa.
"Which makes all the difference." he rested his head on the other man's chest.
"If you'd come to last year's Christmas Party, we'd probably be living together by now."
"Which we basically are already. We buy groceries together, you're here most evenings, and sometimes weekend mornings..." Mycroft replied, manner-of-factly, "how would you feel about making that a little more permanent?"
Greg's eyes widened, "goodness, Myc - are you serious?! I'd love to of course, it's just - well, I know you like your space."
"There's too much space here." the auburn tilted his head upwards. "You know, I discovered an entire room I'd never seen before last week. Furthermore, you don't annoy me like the vast majority of people. II think I could put up with you if you were to make the tea every so often."
"If you can teach me how to make good tea, that's no problem at all. I can make a decent enough brew, but nowhere hear Her Majesty the Queen's standard."
"That's settled then. There's nothing I'd like better than to spend Christmas morning with you... it's been about a decade since I've spent it with anyone"
"Look at you, you hopeless romantic." Greg wrapped his arms around Mycroft's body, "that does sound terribly appealing... although I was under the impression you didn't like Christmas?"
"I never have in the past, yet if my predictions are correct, I may enjoy it a decent amount more this year."
"Me too, honey. Me too."

                             ***
Not only did Greg move in the next weekend, so did blizzards. The forecast had spoken of a few centimetres, but in its traditionally inaccurate style, that forecast was far from correct, and so Greg found himself trying to shift boxes from his car to the front door through about two feet of snow. Mycroft was 'helping' by bringing him a flask of tea and standing at the door ready to open it every time another box left the car - he couldn't bear to leave it open and let a draft in.
"I think the next one's the last one." Greg mentioned as he passed the box to Mycroft.
"What've you got in this one, sticks of lead?" he groaned under the weight.
"Dunno - guess we'll see when we open it."

                                ***

Two hours later, nearly every box had been opened, and nearly everything had been found a place. Firstly, his clothing was given a wardrobe in the spare room, which was to become his own dressing room. They'd agreed that Mycroft's dressing room should be separate because of his often erratic work schedule.
Then there were his shoes which, to Mycroft's delight, filled up the shoe rack with perfect spacing.
Regretfully, Greg had to put some things in a box in the garage, simply because a place couldn't be found for them - for example, he had a couple of fridge magnets, but Mycroft didn't have a magnetic fridge, and a bread box which had no use as Mycroft owned one already. 
His books were shelved without question. The smaller ones in the living room, the cookbooks suitably in the kitchen and the larger copies in Mycroft's personal library where the shelves were much taller.
All of this was achieved quite amiably, fuelled by tea and biscuits.
Everything in order, the couple collapsed in the living room again, hot chocolate in hand and the television switched on.
"Christmas movie after Christmas movie after Christmas movie. They do know it's not for four days, don't they?" Mycroft flicked through the channels.
"Oh, they've been playing these since the beginning of December... I've always found it quite comforting if I'm honest."
"Hmm..." he mumbled, mid-sip, "I've always had a preference for the Christmas ghost stories."
"Of course you have. A Christmas Carol's on."
"Which version?"
"Erm... the Muppet's Christmas Carol."
Greg laughed at his partner's scowling face, "I'll have you know, it's very good! Michael Caine plays Scrooge."
"Michael Caine... ah, Ipcress-files-Michael-Caine. Yes, he's an impeccable actor, but I'm not sure if I can stand two hours of all that 'wadda wadda' or whatever the bear says." he plonked his cup down forcefully on a coaster.
"Fozzie says 'wacka wacka', and he's barely in the movie anyway." the D.I. tried to reason. The Muppet's Christmas Carol was quite frankly his favourite Christmas movie, even if it was meant for kids. Michael Caine brought a degree of gravity to the film, despite the singing puppets.
"Do you seriously want to watch this?"
"...yes."
"Stick it on then. Michael Caine might make this bearable."
As the scene opened up to the London cityscape and the overture of the film, Mycroft subconsciously cuddled up to Greg. His favourite position by now: close to the one he loved, it made him feel less alone...

" 'Welcome to The Muppet's Christmas Carol! I am here to tell the story.'

'And I am here for the food.' "

"Why's the bird with the weird nose playing Charles Dickens?"
"That's Gonzo and it's because he is... shhh. Look, there you go. Michael Caine."
"Now they're singing, oh deep deep joy."

"'When a cold wind blows and chills you, chills to the bone,
But there's nothing in nature that freezes your heart like years of being alone,
It paints you with indifference like a lady paints with rouge,
And the worst of the worst, the most hated and cursed is the one that we call Scrooge!
Oh, here comes Mister Humbug..."

By the end of the first song, Mycroft was inexplicably captivated. Greg was right - yes, it was really a kid's movie, but it was also the most accurate screen depiction of Dickens' novel he'd seen (to his great shock) and it made him feel damn nostalgic - for something he'd never had...

"It's in the singing of the street corner choir,
It's going home and getting warm by the fire,
It's true wherever you find love, it feels like Christmas."

It was funny really, Mycroft thought, that a simple song was so thought provoking to him. It was true - he'd never felt an ounce of Christmas spirit, but sitting there in the arms of his boyfriend, he was ready to start shouting out the lyrics of 'Oh I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday."

He even cried when the Ghost of Christmas Present predicted Tiny Tim's early death, sobbed into Greg's shoulder when the Ghost of Christmas future showed Scrooge the Cratchitt's future with Tiny Tim gone.

" 'I picked a spot for Tim where he can see...
It's a spot on the hill
And you can see the ducks on the river.'

'Tim always loved watching the ducks on the river.' "

"Why's this movie so sad Gregory? I thought it was a Christmas movie?" He sighed into Greg's shoulder.
"You've read a Christmas Carol, haven't you?"
"Yes, but... but... it's the music, that's what it is. Just clever filmmaking..."
"Or you're a highly emotional person."

At the final stanza of 'Bless us all.", Mycroft's face was plastered with such a smile, Greg just had to kiss his cheek. "You're beautiful when you smile like that..." he murmured, "so, you enjoyed?"
"That was... magical... I think I'm going to enjoy Christmas this year very much indeed..."

A/N: Good morning (/afternoon/evening/mid way though the night depending where you are!)
This one was fun to write, mostly because I could include bits from my personal favourite Christmas Movie. Yeah, it's kinda sad, but I am obsessed with Michael Caine and A Christmas Carol, so...
And the music is actually damn good. The part where you're first introduced to Scrooge gives me chills every time (or maybe I'm just sentimental...)

Sorry I'm writing Christmas in August, but the time frame makes sense...

Thanks for reading x
Ellie :-)