Greg just gave a little shake of his head at full compliment of outfits - ranging all the way from slacks to jeans, not exactly an impressive span, was it? But Mycroft did have his flourishes. And he met that smile with his own, raising his eyebrows with as much mock excitement as he could muster. "What, the two of us, with our no friends? Sounds like a blast. Suppose your brother could come - and Donovan. There's the entertainment taken care of."

The peace and quiet sounded appealing to him, really. The same empty hours that made him dread going home (and thus stick around his office later and later as the week went on) seemed less daunting with the possibility of - well, sharing them. It felt like coming home ought to have felt, but hadn't for a very long time. Relaxing - and goodness knew he needed some of that. He wondered if Mycroft was capable of relaxation.

"Just have a bottle of whiskey open, and I'll be happy as a clam. We can call it whatever you like." It was about what passed for a party with him these days, anyway. He grimaced again, shifting his shoulders very carefully against the pillow at his back. "Believe me, I'll be looking forward to it."