Greg’s Mini-Me, a Mystrade parent ficlet
Greg and Mycroft were having breakfast when their 10 year old daughter Gemma came bounding into the kitchen wearing her uniform for the morning - a matching t-shirt and shorts, shin guards held in place by knee high sport socks and her football cleats draped over her shoulder. Her thick hair was pulled back into a pony tail. Gemma participated in the English Schools Football Association and competed against teams in her age group from other schools. Greg, being more sports minded than Mycroft, was going to take her to her practice.
“Morning sunshine!” greeted Greg. “I see you’re ready to go today!"
Gemma carried a box of cereal, spoon and bowl over to the table and set it down next to Mycroft. She grabbed half a banana off his plate. "You didn’t want this Papa, did you?” she asked, wagging the banana in front of him.
“By all means, go ahead. You better eat up. I heard your father say he was going to put you through your paces this morning before practice.”
Gemma’s eyes lit up and she laughed. “He can try! I wish you could come Papa.”
“I wish I could too sweetheart. I’m hoping maybe I’ll be free later today, if your father is not too sore from this morning’s workout. Go easy on him, he’s an old man you know.” Mycroft winked at his daughter and she giggled.
“Hey!” shouted Greg good naturedly. “I’m not that old. Would an old man have been able to do what I did last night?” he asked Mycroft pointedly. Mycroft shot a death glare across the table at his husband, his eyebrows furrowed in consternation.
“What did you do last night Dad?” asked Gemma innocently, looking at Greg.
Mycroft’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. He seemed to be telepathically telling his husband to pick his next words very carefully.
Greg smiled. “Nothing sweetheart, just joking with your papa.” Greg went to put his dishes in the sink. “Come on kiddo, let’s finish up. We have to get moving, practice is in an hour.”
Gemma finished her breakfast and placed her dishes in the sink next to her dad’s. She washed her hands and gave Mycroft a hug and kiss on the cheek. “See you later Papa! Don’t work too hard!”
Greg went over to kiss his husband goodbye.
“You are incorrigible,” whispered Mycroft, nipping at Greg’s ear. Some day very soon she’s going to catch on to all your innuendos and you’ll be the one giving her ‘The Talk’ and I will be laughing at you the whole time.“
"That’s ok, I love to make you laugh, darlin’!”
“C'mon Dad! ” shouted Gemma from the front of the house.
“Coming!” yelled Greg, stealing one last kiss. “See you later. Good luck with your work!”
And with that, father and daughter were off.
Greg and Gemma walked about a mile from their home to a park with playing fields. Although they were early, there were already kids there running around and chasing each other. Greg took the ball they brought and dropped it on the ground. “What do you say we do a little warm up then practice some of your skills, eh?”
When they were sufficiently loose, Greg and Gemma passed the ball back and forth, then Gemma began dribbling towards and around Greg.
“Your skills have really improved Gem. Practice is paying off!”
“Today we’re going to be working on accuracy and speed. I can’t wait!” beamed Gemma.
At the other end of the field, the other children were gathering. The coach blew his whistle and called for the kids to gather 'round.
Gamma kicked the ball to Greg. “I’ll see you later Dad!”
“Have a good practice kiddo, I’ll be here watching!”
Gemma bounded down the field, ponytail swinging side to side.
Greg enjoyed watching the practice. When he could, he played some pickup games with some Yard friends. He was pleased to see Gemma doing well, she had good coordination (which she got from him, of course), speed and passing precision. She was also a team player, passing the ball to her teammates when she could.
About 90 minutes later, practice ended, and Gemma came jogging over, still with a spring in her step.
“Great practice Gem!” Gem smiled, and took the fresh water bottle Greg offered. “Saw you score a goal out there, way to go!” he said as he gave her a high five and one armed hug around the shoulder.
Greg helped Gemma with her equipment and they made their way back home, Gamma chattering the whole way about the practice. Mycroft was waiting with a snack, fruit salad and some granola, when they arrived.
“Hey, how’s my little footballer? How was practice?” queried Mycroft.
“It was good Papa, I scored a goal!”
“You did? That’s wonderful! I wish I had been there to see it!”
“Our first game is next Saturday morning, do you think you can come watch?” asked Gemma hopefully.
“I will try my absolute hardest to be there darling, I do so much want to watch you play.”
“Great! Well, I’m going to go change and be in my room for a bit. Can you call me for lunch?”
“Sure Gem,” said Greg. “It will be in another hour or so.”
Taking one last piece of fruit, Gemma turned and hustled up the stairs to her bedroom.
“I wish I had half her energy,” sighed Greg, leaning against the counter. “Did you get your work done love?”
“Yes, most of it,” answered Mycroft. “I thought maybe later we could go to the children’s museum, I hear they have a new exhibit on 'Toys of the early 20th Century.’”
“I bet she’d like that,” said Greg. Finishing off the last of the fruit, Greg put the dishes in the sink, then sidled up to his husband to give him a hug. Pulling away, he said “You should have seen her out there Myc. Our perfect little sportswoman. Talented, a good sport. And she was really having fun. You should have seen the joy on her face.”
“We’re raising a fine young girl,” agreed Mycroft. “ We’re very lucky, and I’m so happy to be experiencing these moments of parenthood with you.”
“Same here gorgeous,” said Greg, drawing close for a kiss. “Let’s hope we’re still saying this 3 years from now when she becomes a teenager."
"Ah, I agree. We should be fine, unless she decides to follow in your rebellious, rogue, wild child footsteps,” said Mycroft with a mischievous smile.
“Hey! I wasn’t that bad of a kid!” said Greg with mock indignation. “Well, at least not all the time.”
Laughing, Mycroft shooed his husband upstairs to get ready for the rest of their day. He cleaned up the rest of the snack detritus, smiling to himself over his good fortune - a loving, caring husband, and precocious, kind daughter. His perfect family.
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