“So. Greg. Greggy. May I call you Greggy? Used to know a chap named Greggy back at the academy. Wasn’t his real name, but it stuck with him… and her a few times. Nice enough, old Greggy, but not much of a kisser… especially not with the beard. But I digress.”
“S’okay, Doctor. I’ve gotten used to that, lately.”
“Yes. Yes, I imagine you have. Now, tell me. How is Mycroft enjoying the anniversary present? Bet he didn’t expect this, did he? African safari, nearly a century in the past…”
“He’s having the time of his life. And thank you. Sherlock said you were the only man he knew who could surprise Mycroft Holmes.”
“Ah, well, I’m flattered. Really I am. He’s a big softy, your Sherlock. Don’t tell him I told you. Ever since I took him to meet Blackbeard when he was just a boy, he’s tried to put on a brave face. Probably not the best idea, actually, taking a four-year-old on a pirate ship about to mutiny. But live and learn! Well, hopefully both of those things…”
“Was Mycroft a serious little kid, too? I mean, did he always have the solemn act?”
“You know, I’d have to say yes. Solemn little fellow, and all an act. Not many people get to break through that, either. Glad you did, Greggy! By the way… where is Mister Sunshine? Exploring?”
“Ah, no. Resting. Had a bit of a long, hard day.”
“Oh. Chase a bunch of wildebeest, did you? Try to photograph some big game?”
“Not, precisely, no. In fact, we never left the tent.”
“Oh. OH! Well, now! Greggy, you old dog! Good on you, mate!”
