Greg didn't mind brining Eltham to work with him when they couldn't arrange a babysitter; and the nine year old didn't have a problem with it. In fact, Eltham begged to go to work with his dad, and all but blew up with excitement when Greg said yes.

Though, none of his usual excitement could be seen as he rolled around on the ground of Greg's office that afternoon.

"Dad, I'm boooooooooored." Eltham moaned, extending the 'o' sound for pronunciation.

"Then why did you come in the first place?"

"Because I was bored at home, but now I'm bored here."

"That makes perfect sense." Greg chuckled as he shuffled through some important case files.

"Well, fix it!" Eltham yelled, as he kicked the ground. "You're a DI, so let's go blow stuff up."

Greg knitted his eyebrows together as he glanced at his delusional son. "You do realize that I'm a detective inspector, right?"

"And?"

"And that doesn't give me free reign to do as I please."

"Really? Your job sucks then."

"Welcome to my life, Eltham. If you're so bored, then why don' you go hang out with Anderson?"

Eltham paused kicking the ground as he flipped onto his stomach. He shot his dad an 'are you serious look' before he resumed the motion. "It's like you don't even listen to me dad. Yeah, because that's the first thing on my mind! Sitting around while Mr. Weirdo pokes dead bodies, thanks for the suggestion!" Eltham sang in a sarcastic voice.

Greg raised a silver brow. "It's either that or muck around the streets like a bloody homeless person."

"The last choice, please!"

"You know, I worry about you sometimes, and that great future your father is so determined on. Does he know about your homeless dreams?"

"Not yet," Eltham gleefully said as he got up. "But, I'm thinking I'll break it to him tonight over his favorite dinner."

"Only nine years old and you know how to make Mycroft bend; you're growing up so fast."

"I learned it from the best." Eltham winked. "I'm going to go 'play' with your coworkers, 'kay'?" Eltham asked.

Though, he didn't wait for an answer as he ran out of the room, nearly colliding with Dimmock as the other DI entered.

"Have you found any leads on that cold case yet?"

"Um, not quite, Lestrade." Dimmock murmured as he blushed, adverting his eyes as Greg looked him over.

"Oh, then what's up?"

"We heard yelling in here, and I wanted to see what it was about."

"Sally paid you five pounds, didn't she?" Greg guessed as he leaned back in his chair.

"And more desk space for a week. I'm actually happy about that seeing as how she's a sodding arse when it comes to personal space."

"Can't blame her, seeing as how you have a mahogany desk. You're the talk of the Yard every day, you know that?"

"Now I do, so thank you very much." Dimmock said sarcastically as he looked down at his feet.

Something was obviously bothering the guy, something that had to do with Greg. No way did the hard headed Dimmock ever look flustered of his own accord.

"Something else you'd like to mention?" The older man asked, crossing his arms.

Dimmock looked up sheepishly at his coworker. "How are you and Holmes?"

"Mycroft?" Greg asked incredulously.

"Yeah, that one."

"We're fine, brilliant in fact. Why?"

"Because he works in the government!" Dimmock let burst the words he'd held in for what seemed like forever. "They destroy anything in their path to get what they want, and I wouldn't be surprised if he married you to stop his boredom for a while."

Instead of saying anything at first, Greg put his elbows up on his desk and stared the younger man down. "So you come into my office to tell me my husband's a wanker? I take that very offensively, Dimmock, especially since he's been nothing but kind to you ever since you've met him. Mycroft is kind, gentle, caring, and bloody loyal to me and Eltham!" Greg was hardly aware of his voice growing with each word. "He would never do that to me and I'm pissed that you'd even think, christ Dimmock."

If Greg had brought a camera with him, he would have taken a photo of Dimmock's face in that moment just to make the arrogant sod feel as bad as he did.

"I'm-I'm sorry. I didn't me-mean to make you an-angry." The DI sputtered as he half tripped out of the office in his haste to get away from the wave of anger coming off of his senior DI.

"You'd better be, Dimmock!" Greg mockingly roared, laughing at the expense of his coworker.

"Nice job, Eltham." Greg smiled as his son walked in with a lollipop in his mouth and a mischievous smile upon his face.

"It wasn't too hard to get Dimmock to confess what he really felt. Just a couple of pounds and he went singing to my tune, so cough it up dad." His son smiled, holding his palm out expectantly.

"So, he really has feelings for me?" Greg asked as he got up to grab the cash in his jacket.

"Plain as day, dad. Father says that's why they call you the Silver Fox."