Could You Imagine? PART 1
Mycroft slipped nervously through the door and slid along the wall towards the bar. He'd had Anthea drop him off in her own car three blocks back, but it had taken him twenty minutes to get here, what with all the detours he'd taken to lead any followers astray. He was terrified still, that someone would be following him. Someone like… Sherlock. And then of course, Mummy would find out, because Sherlock like to worry her with trifles. Mycroft was sure that if he searched through surveillance footage he would find some of him shagging that flatmate, though.
But Mycroft didn't expect to see any familiar faces, here of all places. So when he caught sight of a certain grey-haired detective inspector, surrounded my scantily dressed younger men, his stomach sank to his toes. And, just his luck, any chances of a quiet, speedy exit were dashed when Lestrade's eyes fell on him, widening.
He and Lestrade had only met once, and not formally. Lestrade had been rushing out of Sherlock's flat as he had been rushing in, paramedics in tow. But that was not a pleasant memory for any involved, including those poor paramedics, who had received a verbal beating from a certain drug addict who apparently hadn't overdosed enough to shut him up.
Mycroft sat at the end of the bar, hunched over and resigned to the fact that he wouldn't get laid tonight or any other night. If Lestrade saw him leave with someone, everyone would know, surely. He stared into a drink he didn't remember buying.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lestrade standing, saying something to one of the fellows he was with and making his way over to Mycroft, so he stood up, drained his drink and headed for the door, aware that Lestrade was following.
When the cool night's air and sounds of the busy street hit him, he relaxed a bit.
"Mycroft? Mycroft Holmes?"
"Detective Inspector Lestrade," Mycroft nodded to the man as he came to stand next to him.
"What, pray tell, are you doing in this end of town?" Lestrade enquired.
"I might ask you the same question!" he replied snappily, "but if you must know, I was conducting an experiment, which I shall not be repeating."
"Ah," replied the DI, realising three of his buttons were undone and working towards refastening them. "Well, would you like to come back to my place for a drink to celebrate your first time in a gay bar, then?"
Mycroft swung his head around and looked at the DI, who was staring intently at the alleyway opposite them.
"Yes, I suppose."
"Taxi!"