What a day to give up smokes. And donuts. Is there no pleasure in the world, anymore?!

So help me, if you’re offering, I accept. Or if you’re questioning my decision, I concur: it was madness on my part.

Greg stares. He wants to. He really does. For multiple reasons. “Thank you. I’m…I’m trying to behave myself.”

Greg twitches. Laughing softly to himself, he sighs. “Maybe if I just stand a little closer, I’ll get the smoke without actually lighting one, myself.” Hands in his pockets, he takes a step closer. “But thank you.”

“You’re a gem, Sir,” Greg smiles widely at the enigmatic man. And, he does step a little closer. “Feel free to breathe in my face. I don’t mind.” That probably came out weird, but so be it.

Ah. Yep. Yep, that’s nice. Taking a deep breath, he smiles boyishly, shrugging, “Well. It doesn’t give me the same guilt. And, it gives me an excuse to be closer to you.” The last is added in a teasing way, wiggling his eyebrows.

A soft laugh escapes him, and he blushes, shrugging again, “Hitting on you, flirting, yeah. I’m terrible like that. My apologies.”

@EarHatDetective Of course, he's always felt protective of the brilliant mind, but still.

@GovernmentCake Sherlock's sister, Mylene Holmes.

Great. Just…fucking grand. He's managed to somehow lose track of Sherlock for Mycroft, and Greg has just received a mysterious little box -

((Can't keep my eyes open. Good night!))