Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock, and I don't profit from this.

This is a sort of sequel to May I Have This Dance? though it can be read as a stand-alone. The idea of parent!Greg and Mycroft trying to fit into that dynamic was an interesting idea in my mind, and considering the unprecedented success of my other Mystrade story, I decided I would attempt to dabble a bit more. Now I'm not sure when I'll be able to update, because I have so much going on, but I'll update ASAP. This should be about 4-5 chapters total.

I would be nowhere without my muse. Je t'aime, Nin!

Friday: Part One

It was Lestrade's weekend with his two daughters, and it was also Mycroft's only weekend off for the next two months. Typically, the Detective Inspector tried to keep his lover and his children separate. Although he loved both parties, Mycroft never seemed the paternal type, and he was nervous he would scare the government worker away. That, or his daughters would reject him, possibly thinking Lestrade was trying to replace their mother with someone else, although he would never try to change the girls' parent. He just couldn't live with someone whom he couldn't trust.

"May I ask why you try to keep us away from each other? Alexandra and Adeline seem like perfectly well-behaved children," Mycroft said from the doorway. Lestrade hadn't heard him come I, so he jumped. He turned to see his lover leaning forward onto his customary black umbrella, blue-gray eyes focused carefully on the man in front of him. Lestrade loved those eyes, how they seemed to see through all his layers, stripping him bare both physically and mentally.

"They are…though you've never met them…"

"They are important to you, and thus they are important to the government," Mycroft negated the feeble excuse. Lestrade's eyes got large for a moment before he chuckled.

"The government?" he walked closer, wrapping his arms around the waist-coat clad torso.

"Well, me; same thing, really," Mycroft grinned in that dangerous way of his. Greg wasn't really surprised that his daughters had been watched; in fact, if he had thought about it, he would have asked for the surveillance. In a way, he was grateful that Mycroft had taken on all aspects of his life, in his own way. This was the same care he showed his own brother, someone Greg knew Mycroft loved as much, if not more, as he loved Greg. It was a bigger deal than they were choosing to make of it.

"Gregory, your daughters are fine to come here. They're perfectly welcome, as a matter of fact. I don't quite understand why you are so nervous. Are you ashamed you are with a man?" Mycroft didn't look affronted, but Greg still felt like he was smacked as he reeled back.

"What…no! Never! Dammit, My, I came to terms with my sexuality back before uni!" he rolled his eyes.

"Then what is it?" Mycroft questioned, seemingly unaffected, but Greg could see the frustration he was hiding in his shoulders. He had become perfectly still, a sneer playing at his lips.

"Just…no offense, you don't seem the paternal type. I've never seen you around children; Sherlock doesn't count, even though he acts like one, and you still see him as your baby brother. It's not the same. And I don't want to overwhelm my girls. Addie, Alex, and you are the most important parts of my life. I don't want anyone to be unhappy, especially not with each other," Greg looked at the ground, not wanting to look into Mycroft's eyes. When he got the courage to, Mycroft's face was calculating, but otherwise blank.

"Do you trust me, Gregory?"

The question was slow, giving the man plenty of time to think through the answer.

"With my everything."

The response was pure and genuine, and well-thought through.

"Then I ask, with your permission, to spend the weekend here at our house with you and the girls."

"Alright," he nodded.

"Thank you; what time are we to expect them?"

"In an hour; Dawn will be dropping them off," Greg pressed his lips to Mycroft's for a brief moment. A sigh escaped his lips. "I love you."

"I love you as well, darling," Mycroft held Greg to him in a rare display of emotion. Greg knew he must have given the correct answer if this was the response. Although Greg was typically the "big spoon" in their arrangement, there was a part of him that loved to be held, and the scent of Mycroft's cologne was a welcome sensory overload.

XXX

The knock on the door to the house was loud, and it echoed. Mycroft, although typically very secure, found himself vulnerable where it came to his Gregory, and he was never more grateful for the large estate that had been handed down in the family. He was proud of it, just as he was proud of his appearance. He was in his Good Suit, which really was a fine collection of expensive pieces of fabric, specifically tailored to show the cut of the body that Mycroft had recently defined so well as he came to his target weight. Gregory was in the loo, so Mycroft answered the door.

Dawn stood there in front of the girls, trying not to look too impressed by the grounds. Unfortunately for her, she was failing. Mycroft looked her over, noticing that her blond hair was done nicely, loosely curled. Her makeup was heavy to cover up the bags under her eyes. Her outfit was cheap, but flattering, accenting her breasts, but hiding the small amount of weight gain around her middle. Her hands were shaking, and her teeth and fingernails had yellowed slightly. So trouble in paradise: the gym teacher had moved in, but things weren't going that smoothly. This resulted in late nights and stress, requiring caffeine and nicotine. She was dressing like she was trying to get attention, so either she wanted Gregory to think everything was going well or she wanted him back. However, Gregory wasn't that perceptive, but he knew his ex-wife, and even he would be able to tell she was trying too hard, so the first option was out. Mycroft's gut clenched as he realized this woman viewed him as competition.

"Hello, Dawn," he smiled courteously. "Alexandra, Adeline, it's lovely to meet you. Please come in."

Alexandra was the oldest at fourteen. She was precocious, Mycroft knew, although she wasn't near the level of Sherlock or himself. She had dark hair cut in a pixie cut with blue eyes like her mother. She wore a Doctor Who t-shirt and carried a handful of novels by James Patterson and Rick Riordan outside of the backpack she had on her shoulders. Mycroft felt like Dr. Watson would love her company. They would get along swimmingly.

Adeline was younger at eleven. She had her mother's blond hair that fell down her back in a loose braid. She had her father's hazel eyes. She was as smart as her sister, but her brain was more hardwired for her math and science classes, as seen by her school reports. She was dressed in a lavender, long-sleeved shirt and a jean skirt. She tried to appear older, likely to fit in with the friends Alexandra brought around. She was a politician in the making, if Mycroft got to her soon enough-

He cut off that train of thought. Gregory had asked him for no work this weekend, especially if it was related to his daughters. Besides, he wasn't the Holmes brother who played Evil Scientist on those closest to him…

"You're dad's boyfriend, right?" Alexandra asked, making eye contact.

"Alex, the terminology is partner! You're going to offend him!" Adeline hissed, then seemed to pause in her tracks. "Or…her. Pardon my rudeness, but how do you identify, relating to gender?"

Dawn seemed a bit shocked by Adeline's approach but didn't move to reproach her.

"I identify as a male, and I am not offended, but thank you for your concern," Mycroft resisted a smile; he liked her! "And boyfriend, partner, any of it is fine. We aren't picky."

"It's not like they're married, honey, so it doesn't really matter," Dawn's comment, on the surface, was nice enough, but Mycroft heard the double meaning and caught her look. He resisted the urge to snap off with the fact that it wasn't like she and her gym teacher were going to be getting married anytime soon.

"Of course it matters, mum! Political correctness is key," Adeline seemed frustrated. Oh, Mycroft understood that.

"You talk about political correctness, and we don't even know his name," Alexandra rolled her eyes.

"My apologies," Mycroft bowed his head slightly. "My name is Mycroft Holmes."

"Alex Lestrade, Addie Lestrade," Alexandra introduced them, offering her hand; Mycroft shook hers, followed by Adeline's.

"Mycroft, if you don't mind me asking, what are your and Greg's plans this weekend with the girls?" Dawn asked.

"Tonight we will have a fairly lax night, just spending the time here on the manner, perhaps take the horses out if Alexandra and Adeline would be amenable," Mycroft's lips twitched upwards as he heard gasps of surprised pleasure. "Then we will order food in. Tomorrow, we will be attending a few museums, potentially visiting Buckingham Palace for a private tour."

"Buckingham Palace!" Adeline squealed.

"Yes, Adeline," Mycroft said, "I work there. I hold a minor position in the British Government."

"A minor position can get a private tour?" Dawn scoffed.

"Perhaps it's a bit bigger than minor," he maintained eye contact: a warning. "And as for Sunday, we will be meeting my brother and his partner for lunch. We will drop the girls off around dinner time."

"Sounds like a busy weekend," Dawn smiled a very fake smile.

"I would loathe for the girls to be bored."

"You mentioned your brother and his partner; are they safe for the girls to be around?" she asked.

"Do you read the papers?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson may be a bit eccentric, but they are safe."

Mycroft watched as Dawn put two and two together.

"You're Sherlock's older brother?" she questioned.

"I am."

"That man used to come and wake us up at all hours, high off of random shit! How in the hell can I trust him around my children? How can I trust you if you can't even keep your younger sibling out of heroine!"

"Firstly, it was cocaine, not heroine. Second, no one can control Sherlock Holmes. I was lucky to rein him in. He's been clean for years, besides. And if you raised your children like they need to be raised, they won't feel the need to do drugs," Mycroft wanted to say; only he didn't get the chance, because it was then that Gregory got in the room.

"Dawn, it's time for you to go," Gregory snapped.

"Greg, I-"

"We'll see you on Sunday when we drop off the girls. Other than that, you aren't to be involved in my weekend. Send the gym teacher my regards."

Dawn kissed the girls good bye and left quickly after that.

Greg took a deep breath. "Sorry, girls, I'm a bit protective, but I still shouldn't have done that in front of you. Now, who's excited to get this weekend underway?"

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