SHERLOCK

SONGS

I found a prompt that said to put your music player on shuffle and write a story about whatever character/pairing you want to that song. This is me trying to fill that prompt. Multiple pairings.

Author's Note:

Pairings: Multiple

About: So I found this prompt challange when looking for Cabin Pressure fics;

1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.

2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.

3. Write a ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the ficlet; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!

4. Do ten of these, then post them.

I've come up with five so far. And they're Sherlock, obviously, not Cabin Pressure... I would do a Cabin Pressure one but I only ship Martin/Douglas in that so yes... well, this is what I came up with, enjoy!

There is no l order to these stories and they happen in different universes unless I specifically say so.

Ownership: Original characters are owned by Arthur Conan Doyle. These versions are owned by Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat. I just get to play.

{o}

Under The Stars

Song: Starlight by Muse

Pairing: Mycroft/Lestrade

Mycroft had been pining for Lestrade for years. It wasn't obvious, though... well it was to Sherlock... and Anthea... maybe John and Mrs Hudson too. Okay, and there was Sally, who always stared at Mycroft with a slight smirk when the elder Holmes adjusted his tie before meeting with DI Lestrade.

Alright, fine, so everybody knew... everybody except Greg.

Mycroft was hurting, he really was. He was a grown man in love with another grown man. It wasn't the same sex thing that bothered him (Mycroft was as gay as any man could be) but it was the wanting, the needing, the ability his mind had to stop functioning when Lestrade was in the room.

It was embarrassing, so utterly embarrassing, to be swept up in emotions like love and joy and need and want... it was so agonising to see Greg and see him smile at Mycroft, a smile of warmth and friendship... but not of love.

Okay, Mycroft was sad, yes; he could admit to that. He was sad and lonely and depressed, especially when Sherlock pointed out his love and said, 'Dear brother, stop drooling over my DI, it is annoying.'

Mycroft glared at him and John had the good sense to lay a relaxing hand on his flatmate. Mycroft looked murderous.

'Sherlock, please,' John sighed.

'What?' Sherlock scowled. 'It's disgusting; he goes all misty eyed and just... urgh.'

'So sorry, Sherlock, maybe I'll just stay away then,' Mycroft scowled.

'Maybe you should,' Sherlock shot.

Well that was it, then. It was bad enough that Mycroft was lonely but now Sherlock wanted him gone. He stood and said, 'Very well,' and left before Sherlock or John could stop him.

John did stop him outside, though, looking up at Mycroft with soft eyes. 'Mycroft, maybe just... talk to Greg, yeah? You never know, he might feel the same way.'

Mycroft scoffed but John tightened his grip.

'I'm serious,' he said and Mycroft turned back to look at him. 'Just... tell him.'

And then he was gone, racing back into 221B without a backwards glance. Mycroft stared after him, ran John's words through his mind. He thought long and hard before gulping and pulling out his BlackBerry.

'Hello?'

'Gregory.'

'Mycroft, hi.'

Mycroft swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat. 'Could you perhaps... join me at my flat tonight? There's something I want to discuss.'

'Sure, no worries,' Greg said in that easy way he had. 'What time?'

'Seven.'

'I'll see you then,' Greg said.

{oOo}

Mycroft was nervous as he pulled the door open and it doubled when he set eyes on Greg. The other man was wearing faded jeans and a sweater, coat pulled tight around his broad-shoulders.

'Hi,' Greg smiled and stepped in. 'I would have brought something but... well, I didn't exactly know what this was.'

Mycroft smiled politely and took Greg's coat, heart thudding in his chest as he made contact with the DI's warm frame. 'Yes, well...'

'So...' Greg said when Mycroft failed to continue.

'Would you please join me on the balcony?' Mycroft asked.

Greg smiled and followed the elder Holmes. He gasped when he saw the view, gasped even more when Mycroft turned him, made him focus.

'Gregory, there's something I want to discuss with you,' Mycroft said.

'Go on,' Greg said, smiling.

'I... well, that is I... um...'

Greg raised his eyebrows. This wasn't the Mycroft Holmes he knew; Mycroft Holmes was never lost for words. 'Mycroft, what is it?'

Mycroft looked up at him and nearly groaned. Greg looked perfect in the starlight; handsome, unattainable, utterly breathtaking.

No, he couldn't do this; he couldn't tell Greg.

'Um...' he mumbled.

'Mycroft, I'm sorry.'

Mycroft looked up at him, confused. 'What?'

Greg smiled slightly. 'Well... I guess I've been...' he sighed and ran a hand through his perfectly messy hair. 'I've been kind of staring at you lately.'

Mycroft blinked. 'S-staring?'

'Yeah and I thought maybe you'd noticed– duh, of course you noticed,' he gave a small chuckle. 'I mean, I was hoping that maybe you were interested too and obviously... shit, I'm sorry,' he sighed again. 'Don't worry, I'll just go.'

But Mycroft reached out and stopped him, grabbed his arm. 'Gregory, what do you mean you've been staring?'

Greg looked at him slowly, faint blush colouring his cheeks. 'I fancy you.'

'W-What?'

Mycroft was full of stutters that night.

'Yeah, I have since before I got divorced. I mean, I knew my wife was cheating and so I let myself look at other people and... well, I only looked at you.'

Mycroft blinked.

'I just thought that maybe you'd be interested too,' Greg continued. 'But obviously you're not and you invited me here to say stop it so... yeah, I'll just go.'

Again Mycroft reached out and tugged him back.

'Mycroft–'

'I fancy you too,' Mycroft blurted out.

Greg's eyes went wide before he was smiling. 'Yeah?'

'Yes.'

'And you're not just winding me up?'

'What? Of course not, I... I've been in love with you for years.'

Greg was grinning properly now. 'Yeah?'

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded.

Greg closed the distance between them and Mycroft froze. 'Well then...'

And then Greg Lestrade, the man who Mycroft had been pining for for years, leaned up and kissed him right there, on the balcony, while the moon and stars and planes twinkled overhead.

Mycroft groaned and wrapped his arms around the DI, Greg grinning into the kiss.

And in that moment, Mycroft promised himself he'd never let go.

Author's Note: Yeah, so I maybe kind of cheated and replayed the song a bit. I mean, I came up with the story in about a minute but it was nowhere near finished. I got to the John saying, 'Just tell him', part and knew I couldn't leave it there so yes... forgive me for breaking the rules a bit.

Cheers.