“Gregory, what are you doing.” It wasn’t a question.
“Well, this here’s Kermit,” Greg gestured toward the green, grinning amphibian, “and this lovely lady is Miss Piggy,” he used the other hand to indicate the blonde, bejeweled and besequinned pig, “and the four of us are off to John and Sherlock’s to babysit, like we promised we would.”
Mycroft sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You promised.”
Greg grinned and threw the pink and purple pig at Mycroft, hitting him square in the chest. “Come on, I picked this one out especially for you; she’s bossy and gorgeous and set on world domination. Sound familiar?”
that’s it we’re married now.
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