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A Slow Morning

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Mycroft was already at the table with the paper when Greg shuffled blearily into the kitchen, stumbling a little and bumping into the wall as he went for the coffee his husband had so thoughtfully put on. The amused chuckle from the man at the table only made Greg growl a little in response as he dumped the black brew into a mug and sipped at it like it held all the secrets of the universe. 

"You're a bear in the morning, love," Mycroft pronounced, sipping at his tea daintily and folding up the paper. "I think we know where John-John gets it from." 

"Hmnnggg," Greg mumbled as he collapsed into a chair. 

"I take it the boys are not up yet?" 

"Oh, God no. After the tantrums they threw last night? They're still bundled up in blankets, snoozing away." 

"Perhaps we can get some time to ourselves before they come hurtling downstairs." Mycroft remarked as he picked up a square of toast and slathered it with marmalade. 

"Hopefully." Greg murmured as he set his coffee down and picked up a piece of toast, eating it dry. "John'll be high maintenance today. Lock's gonna be more subdued, I can tell." 

"Either way, we're going to be given a run for our money when they finally wake up," Mycroft pointed out. "I hope you're prepared for that, Gregory." 

"Oh, it's 'Gregory' now, is it?" as the caffeine began to kick in, Greg's impish streak returned, giving Myc a little eyebrow wiggle. 

"Yes. It is." Mycroft stared back until Greg dissolved into a fit of sleep-deprived giggles, putting a generous amount of strawberry preserves on his next piece of toast. The clock ticked peacefully and the sound of the birds chirping out the open window gave them a lovely soundtrack to wake up to over the next half hour, before Sherlock finally appeared, looking very sleepy and bundled up in a blanket. 

"Good morning, sleepy head," Greg said softly, laughing a little as Lock dumped himself into a chair and made little grumbly sounds.

"Someone's a bear this morning, aren't they Gregory?" Mycroft looked across the table with a fond but slightly surprised look. 

"That they are," he commented, also a bit surprised. It was definitely usually John that was the grumpy one during breakfast, not Lock. "Have some toast, lad." he presented Sherlock with a marmalade covered piece, watching a hand snake out of the blankets, grabbing the toast before retreating into the hood the blanket created. Around fifteen minutes later their other monster emerged, this one slightly warmer and cuddlier than the other one, immediately smooshing himself into Greg's lap. "Mngh, oh, hello," he helped John situate himself and hugged him as he nuzzled into his neck sleepily. "Good morning, cuddly boy. D'you want some toast?" 

"Toas," the cry for food was muffled into Greg's skin. 

"Alright. Be a good lad and go sit by yer Pa, then." his eyes twinkled as Mycroft gave him a little look at being put on John-feeding-duty. "Pa'll help you get some started." 

He did indeed, right after he hugged a sleepy John back. "Sit down for me, there's a good boy." Mycroft got a couple slices fixed with blackberry jam and set them out on John's plate. Occasionally Sherlock's hand would shoot out and tug at Greg's sleeve, asking for more toast silently, and Greg would fix him another slice and hand it back, watching it retreat comically into the blanket nest. It was a slow morning, after the little hellions' tantruming the night before, but it was a welcome reprieve that all four of them needed.