Archive of Our Own ^beta

Mycroft gripped the handle of his ever present umbrella to avoid fidgeting as he waited for the door to open. He was so nervous making sure that he looked presentable that it took him a moment longer than it should have to realise that Greg was watching him from the doorway with an amused grin.

“Apologies.” He said as on reflex. It just made Greg smile wider.

“Hello.” Came a quiet answer but not from the man who opened the door. Looking down Mycroft found the little girl that owned the little voice. Tiny arms were wrapped around Greg’s legs and most of her body was hidden behind them. Only her head was peeking around to see the new person at the door.

Mycroft glanced back up to Greg’s face but found no answers as to what to do next so he did as he would with any other person who had greeted him. He used his manners.

He crouched low to be closer to the girl’s height and held out his hand. “Hello, miss. I’m Mycroft. What is your name?”

The girl giggled, put her much smaller hand in his, and politely replied, “Sophie.” Then she was gone, running back inside the house and leaving the two men still stood on either side of the doorway.

Mycroft stood with a wince. “I told you I’m not very good with children.”

“Rubbish!” Greg shook his head and reached out to take one of Mycroft’s hands in his own. “That was perfect. She already loves you.” He used the grip on his hand to tug the stiff man forward and into a gentle kiss.

Mycroft was always a sucker for Greg’s kisses but he pulled away slightly to worry some more. “How can running away be interpreted as anything other than a negative reaction to my presence?” Greg sighed and led the way inside without letting go of Mycroft’s hand.

“Soph usually gives new people the silent treatment until they give her things. She’s not daft for four.” He said fondly. “Trust me, you’re her new favourite person if she’s not fishing for gifts.”

Mycroft still looked sceptical.

They found Sophie in the living room gathering her colouring pens from the floor. When she saw them she ran over to Mycroft and held out her pens. “Would you like to draw with me?”

Mycroft was worried about making the wrong impression and was unsure if it was okay to say no to someone else’s child but treating Sophie like an intelligent person seemed to work before. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be as good at drawing as you. Perhaps I could watch you draw and help you choose some colours?”

Sophie looked thoughtful for a few seconds as if thinking it over. Her frowning, thoughtful features turned into a big smile as she nodded and took Mycroft’s jacket cuff in hand to guide him further into the room. Greg padded along with them and shot the other man a look that clearly said ‘I told you so’.

That is how Mycroft found himself curled up on the sofa with Greg’s arm around his shoulders as he passed pens to Sophie where she was kneeling beside the coffee table. The girl was talking away about what she was drawing, how it was inspired by her day, and what colour she needed next.

He and Greg were having quiet conversation of their own. Most of it was Greg telling Mycroft not to be so nervous, Sophie wouldn’t bite because you handed her a different colour than she asked for. Mycroft was trying his best to do just that as he admired how calm and polite Sophie was.

The time passed in the blink of an eye and soon Greg was slapping his knees and standing. “Right, monkey. Time for bed. Say goodnight to Mycroft.”

Sophie tried for a few minutes to get an extension on bed time but when she saw her dad wasn’t budging, she quickly gave in. She pushed her art supplies into a drawer and skipped over to the sofa to give Mycroft a hug and a peck on the cheek that had Mycroft blushing. “Night night, Mycoff.”

“Goodnight, Sophie. Sweet dreams.”

Greg told him to stay put and that he wouldn’t be long so he nodded and waved at Sophie who was doing the same as she left the room. While Mycroft was left alone he picked through the drawings that the girl had left sticking out of the drawer. They were typical drawings of a child; stick men in their square houses with big smiles, but a genuine smile tugged at his own lips when he noticed an excessively large necktie on one of the bigger stick men.

A noise not unlike a low hum drifted from downstairs as he placed the picture back in the drawer. At first Mycroft thought that perhaps Greg had put on some music to help Sophie to sleep. He stood and walked to the door that led to the hallway and the stairs so he could hear it better. It wasn’t music being played at all.

Mycroft moved without thought up the stairs, following the sound. It was a beautiful, husky and low tone that became words of a song as he came closer to an open bedroom door.

“Whatever happened
To Tuesday and so slow
Going down to the old mine with a
Transistor radio.”

He peered into the room to find Sophie curled up in bed, covers tucked up to her chin, with a singing Greg sat atop the duvet and petting her hair.

“Standing in the sunlight laughing
Hide behind a rainbow’s wall,
Slipping and a-sliding
All along the waterfall”

Greg looked up then as he spotted Mycroft. He smiled and Mycroft couldn’t help but smile back.

Greg stood to join Mycroft by the door and they both watched as Sophie drifted off to sleep.

With you, my brown eyed girl
You, my brown eyed girl.