Warnings for eventual smut and maybe some angst...who knows? I haven't a clue if I can even write angst! Basically a story about how Mycroft and Gregory came to be together. I apologize in advance if my postings are irregular, but maybe if I get feedback I'll be inspired to write more since I'll know people care. Here's hoping.

Rating: M

Pairing: Mystrade

By: LordSexington

Greg sighed staring down yet seeing nothing as his hands absently peeled away the label from his ever present comfort the beer bottle. He was pretty sure that his marriage was over after that last fight they'd had, though Greg couldn't bring himself to care. Truth was that he hadn't been putting much effort into Millie and his relationship, not for six years. Six years spent longing after a man who only ever showed up when Sherlock was in trouble, not that it should be any other way. In fact Mycroft-bloody-Holmes shouldn't be showing up at all, he should be staying away from the crime scenes, the interviews, and more personally Greg's office. He had no right to continue popping up in Greg's life playing games with Greg's emotions and ruining Greg's marriage all while wearing that cool mask of indifference that Greg found so bloody irritating; or maybe Greg's traitorous mind whispered, maybe it's only irritating because you know how much you ache to wrap yourself around that man and make him come undone, to make him lose that mask if only just for a little bit, to show him he can relax around you, because you'd do anything for him.

Greg sighed again, it seemed to be the only thing he did anymore, sigh-mope-sigh some more. Maybe that's what had driven Millie to seek comforts somewhere else, she could probably sense that he didn't care for her anymore. So like any other normal human being-who wasn't resigned to lust after a minor government official while keeping an extremely platonic relationship with someone he was supposed to love-she had sought excitement and pleasure elsewhere.

Good for her, Greg thought bitterly, at least she wouldn't be too torn up at the thought of a divorce because they had to face it, they had fallen out of love long ago and it obviously wasn't coming back no matter how much money Greg wasted on couple's counseling. Once one spouse went out and shagged another pony in the barn you could safely give the relationship its marching orders, sure it could be fixed if both parties were willing to get deeply involved and try their hardest to keep it together, but that wasn't the case for Greg's marriage. Greg didn't want to try anymore, he was sick of trying; sick of holding a marriage together that would be better for all involved if it were just left to crumble.

Greg's head drooped down and his shoulders hunched in as if he were taking a beating from an invisible specter, but truthfully it was just the depression welling up and trying to overtake him. Greg considered letting it and he felt his shoulders slump in defeat almost completely before he pulled himself up again. He thrust his shoulders back and snapped his head up, resolve burning in his eyes; he had work to do tonight. He couldn't give in to the demons clawing at his brain, not yet at least.

No time for that, He thought as he pushed himself back from the bar staring around at the little hole in the wall that was only a block from his house, he was taking one last look around knowing it would be the last time in a while that he came here since Millie needed the house and the comforts it offered far more than he did. Yes, he would miss this place, it wasn't the classiest bar, but it had offered him warmth on the bad days when he craved Mycroft more than usual. This usually occurred after a particularly hard case that he couldn't share the details of with Millie because she had no stomach for such things. He knew Mycroft would have no problem hearing of these things.

"Really," Greg snorted. Anyone who believed that, "I occupy a minor position in the British government," line was truly dense. Greg had no real clue what Mycroft really did, but he knew one thing; whatever it was, it was about as far from minor as you could get.

Greg trailed a hand lightly down the bar as he headed towards the door and back to his home-no wait- it wasn't his home anymore, just as Millie would soon no longer be his wife. That thought didn't bring with it any true regret, it seemed that he had indeed moved on from her and he wondered when it had happened, no matter; what he did know was that it had nothing to do with Millie and everything to do with his love for a certain Government Official.

Mycroft was sitting in his office resting on his elbows with his hands pressed together in what everyone thought of as Sherlock's "thinking position." No one would guess that Sherlock had adopted the habit from his brother and that though Sherlock would never admit it, he cared somewhere deep down for the elder Holmes, cared deeply enough to use things he had learned from his older brother back in childhood before the rivalry had started.

Mycroft's thoughts were centered-rather alarmingly so-on one Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade. This wouldn't be the first time Mycroft had found himself deep in thought with only that tantalizing little D.I. on his mind. He tried to mentally wrestle his thoughts back into working on the crisis in Africa to no avail. A mini-army was being raised right under the world's nose, but of course by the time the news reached the rest of the world it will have been taken care of and what would otherwise be news would seem to be just a few scare rumors before those too were stamped out of existence. Mycroft smiled to himself, he loved his job it gave him just the right amount of challenge and freedom. Of course it also had the added perks of far reaching power and the right team who would work with him and do anything he ordered without question.

His phone chimed and he smiled as his daily reports came in for Sherlock, John, and most importantly Gregory. Hmmm, it seemed that Sherlock and John still hadn't acted on their attraction for each other and were therefore tense and fighting because that was the only outlet they knew for their sexual frustration. Mycroft took pleasure in being the smarter brother because at least he could tell when someone was attracted to him, which was what made his reports on Gregory so hard to read because while he was completely obsessed with that adorable silver haired man he could see that Gregory paid him no mind accept as Sherlock's over protective brother. Gregory was married for Christ sake! He shook his head glumly while he scanned through the pictures of Gregory at his favorite bar. Mycroft had been noting a growing sadness deep within Gregory and while Gregory's sadness grew his drinking steadily increased.

It angered Mycroft that while Gregory was out dealing with this inner turmoil Gregory's wretched wife Millie had been out every few days screwing a man and then coming home to sleep in Gregory's bed as if nothing had happened.

She doesn't deserve you Gregory! Mycroft thought with a snarl as he gripped the edge of his desk so tightly he was surprised chunks of wood were not coming off in his hands.

But then again, neither do I my love. He thought sadly finally stopping his death grip on his desk.

He clicked the report closed and set his phone down dragging his mind back to dealing with the Africa crisis and away from those tempting thoughts of his little Gregory.

Greg's breath left him in a rush as he fell back onto the hotel bed. He looked around at the room taking in the single chair and desk with his laptop and suitcase resting on it.

I guess this will have to do for now, Greg thought resigned as he felt his body relax into the bed after what had been a long day followed by what was feeling like an even longer night.

That was easier than I had expected.

Greg had shown up back at his no longer home to find Millie in the Kitchen sitting at the small table waiting for him. Greg had paused in the entry way not quite sure what to say when Millie had stood and taken a deep breath then it all came tumbling out.

"I want a divorce Greg," She had stated softly, looking for all the world like she thought Greg would break under a gentle breeze.

He had nodded slightly to himself being once again reassured that this was the right thing to do.

"That's what I came back here to say to you," He said with a sad half smile.

"I've met someone," she admitted looking down in shame before finding her resolve somewhere near her feet and looking up again to stare into Greg's eyes, silently daring him to say anything negative about her affair when he hadn't touched her romantically in well over a year.

"I'm a detective Millie, I know," Greg said, bringing his hand back to rub his neck as he awkwardly cast his eyes about for something to focus on besides Millie.

He ended up starting at the small fruit basket hanging from the ceiling when he announced finally after an awkward pause of about five minutes, "I just came back for some things, I'm going to stay at a hotel until I can find a place and I'll text you the address when I know it."

Millie nodded her consent and Greg had set off toward the bedroom and began packing his suitcase full of clothes for work and anything else he felt he might need before he found his own place. He knew he could always come back for anything he missed, but he didn't want to experience the awkwardness that was draped like a blanket over the entire house.

No, he thought grimly, he would do anything to never experience this feeling again; the feeling of not being comfortable in his own home was not one he particularly cared for.

Greg was broken from his reflection of the day's events by a buzzing from the bedside table next to him. He picked up his phone squinting slightly at the harsh blue light it produced as he checked his text messages.

221B Baker Street, hurry. Freak has been busy.-Sally

Greg jumped out of bed and pulled on his trousers before tying out a quick message to Sally.

Be there as soon as I can. Keep everyone calm.-GL

Greg sighed as he finished shrugging into his shirt and began buttoning it up snatching his gun and holster from the desk he had set them on earlier. When he finished with the task of buttoning himself up, looks like tonight is far from over, pulling his suit jacket on over his shirt and shoulder holster, placing his gun lovingly inside it's carrier and tossing his phone and hotel key into his pocket while heading for the door and plucking his keys from the hook near the door. He slammed the door shut and took off down the hall towards the stairs as they were a much faster route to the parking garage, Greg never even noticed the man at the end of the hall who snapped a photo of Greg's form jogging the opposite way down the hall.

Mycroft frowned down at the picture on his phone's screen with bemusement. Gregory? Holed up in a hotel? Had he finally discovered his wife was an unfaithful tramp? How is he taking it? Mycroft was still pondering this when his phone chimed again. He glanced down and immediately became irritated; Sherlock could never give it a rest could he? It seemed his little brother had been experimenting with some rather volatile chemicals and had destroyed half of his own kitchen causing the sink to gush water and the electricity to short circuit. Mycroft sent a quick text to Athena to make sure the car was brought around for him as he took to his feet in a smooth rising motion and stretched his long arms above his head before grabbing his umbrella and coat as he walked out of his office and began the journey out of the building. Athena joined him halfway down the hall and smirked up at him before she went back to texting out orders for his people.

She was a truly great find, Mycroft reflected as he slipped into his car. Willing to take great leaps on her own if it was necessary, but also content to be under orders any other time; she was quite loyal too, which was a difficult thing to find in a place where everyone was constantly trying to one up each other in the pursuit of glory and power. Though Mycroft always won these games so he saw no real reason for the lackeys to try to best him, but it kept him on his toes so he did thank them for that.

Greg pulled up in front of 221B Baker Street and groaned aloud at the scene laid before him.

Sod it all, Greg thought while surveying the grim scene. There were men in protective yellow suits and police vehicles all over the street so that it seemed the entire world flashed blue and red. Greg looked up and noticed Sherlock's silhouette pacing back and forth in front of the window. He wondered where John had been while Sherlock had gotten up to all this trouble it wasn't like John to let Sherlock experiment with such dangerous chemicals while he was in the flat. As soon as Greg had finished that thought however it was answered by an indignant shout from behind the police tape.

"Oi, buddy! I bloody well live here!" Greg looked over to see John arguing with one of the lower ranking officers, fresh from the academy trying to prove his power over mere civilians.

It seemed John wasn't in the mood to have those particular buttons pushed by a man ten years or more, younger than him. Greg decided he should probably swoop in before John smacked the stuck up newbie right upside the head, but then Greg was still half hoping John would react before he managed to get there so Greg strolled at a leisurely pace silently begging to see the young man knocked down a peg or two. It was for the young officers own good, arrogance like that could get you in trouble on the streets and London needed more police officers. Crime was starting to be rampant in the streets, especially the drug trade.

Sadly, Greg arrived before the younger man could further insult John and he interrupted smoothly effectively silencing their argument.

"John, glad to see you, I didn't really want to go up there without you with me," Greg smiled at John past the young officer.

"Lestrade, yes nice to see you too, I came back as soon as I heard."

Greg nodded to himself, he had figured as much there was no way John would have let Sherlock do anything that stupid while he was in the house watching him. The young officer who had been blocking John's path had watched the encounter with narrowed eyes as if he still didn't trust John even with the Detective Inspector there talking to him. Greg sighed at the young man's obvious attitude and motioned John forward and through the tape. The young officer gaped at Greg as if Greg was doing him serious insult by not following his clear example of not allowing the man through, this set Greg's teeth on edge and he counted to ten in his head before he trusted himself to address the young man.

"Officer make sure to guard this, no one else is to be let in without proper paperwork. Do you understand?"

The young man assumed a rigid stance falling back on his academy days as he nodded and Greg walked off leaving John to follow him up the sidewalk and to the door of the flat. Greg paused at the door's opening as he noticed John was behind him muttering something angrily to himself. Greg turned and stared at John until John seemed to wear out his muttered tirade and looked up from the ground to meet Greg's eyes. Greg looked back at John searching for answers in his gaze. John cleared his throat.

"Sorry," He smiled sheepishly.

"I was just practicing what I was going to say when I let into Sherlock about damn near blowing up our flat," John continued.

Greg smiled as he reached out to place a calming hand on John's shoulder.

"Go easy on him, okay? I don't think he meant to, he was probably just bored." Greg said.

John snorted and Greg's brows pulled together confused at the anger in that gesture.

"Yeah right, he just wanted me to come back, he knew I would be out all night so he blew up half the damn flat so I would worry and come home after our fight." John said bitterly glancing away from Greg to stare angrily up at the window where Greg had seen Sherlock pacing earlier.

"You guys fought?" Greg asked wanting to pull John back to the conversation they were having so he could avoid an even angrier John.

"Yes we fought," John started in a loud and angry voice until he noticed Greg taking a step back in alarm then he immediately lowered his voice.

"Yes we fought," He started again softer this time.

"Sherlock scared away yet another girl I was chatting with and he tore my laptop apart looking for pieces to experiment with," John said in explanation and to Greg it did answer a few things he had been thinking about, but not simply the reason why John was mad at Sherlock.

Greg had wondered for some time now-and with that statement it seemed his questions had been answered-if Sherlock were interested in John. Now Greg could see that yes, Sherlock was interested in John, but now a harder question emerged, was John interested in Sherlock? The entire department had taken bets on whether or not this exact thing would happen and when and Greg had to admit when they had first gotten together it seemed like a sure thing, but then John had went off and insisted on dating women and most of the interest in the money pool had dropped as people had accepted that John was straight or at least quite comfortably situated in his closet. Greg still would have liked to see them together even without monetary profit. It would be nice to know Sherlock was being taken care of and it seemed that John the patron saint of acceptance would have to be the one to do it as no one else could put up with the man for more than an hour tops, even he sometimes pushed the envelope at two or three hours and he genuinely enjoyed the man's conversation and wit. Not as much as you would enjoy a certain other Holmes's wit, whispered his mind but he coolly told it to sod off because he didn't need reminding of that certain other Holmes as far as he was concerned his brain could piss off anytime it wanted to bring up Mycroft Holmes, so there!

Greg made a non-committal sound in his throat and stepped through the doorway hearing John step through after him.

Greg conducted his police business keeping John downstairs with him while Greg figured out what to tell John. Greg was watching the last few personnel leave and when finally everyone had gone Greg turned back to John; he needed to say this to John before John headed up the stairs to yell at Sherlock.

"John, I think you should take it easy on Sherlock," Greg held up his hand as he saw John was about to interrupt him.

"Let me finish, Good boy," Greg said smiling as John closed his mouth and crossed his arms leaning up against the wall to listen to what Greg had to say.

"Be gentle with him, I know he can be annoying and impossible but that's just part of his charm, he probably worries all the time that you are going to get up and walk out of his life forever and while you might be thinking that's stupid just remember that Sherlock has had a grand total of three people care about him his entire life. He doesn't understand what to do with his feelings so he shuts them off, but sometimes he can't. Sometimes he has to let them in and when he feels something it's probably one of the scariest feelings in the world for a self-diagnosed sociopath. When you go up there remember you have the right to be angry, but also try to not say anything you both will regret later." Greg finished and smiled sadly at John who would didn't know it, but his flat mate was in love with him and Greg had a feeling John had a few deeper feelings that friendship for Sherlock as well.

Greg marched up the stairs not knowing what else to say down there, hoping John would take his advice and that he could finish whatever business here quickly so he could head back to his hotel room to catch hopefully at least 3 hours of sleep before the day started all over again. Greg was standing in the doorway surveying the damage which really wasn't that bad considering it was Sherlock who had created it, but sadly the power was out in the kitchen and the flat was starting to smell of rotting…well Greg didn't really want to think about that but while Greg was thinking about how Sherlock had explained away the body part's existence and ignoring Sherlock's awful violin abuse two things happened simultaneously. First John pushed past Greg smiling reassuringly at him and Greg sighed happy that John had taken his advice to heart and secondly Greg finished his scan of the flat as his gaze zeroed in on a meticulously styled brown ginger head of hair resting back in a chair obscuring the owner's face, but Greg would know that hair anywhere, he'd had dreams about running his hands through the tresses disturbing them from their normally perfect state. Greg felt his face flush at that thought and his heart beat increased nervously as he realized he was in a room with two men who could read body language quite well and also had no understanding of what were and were not private matters not to be discussed in polite company.

Greg tried to force his thoughts away from panic and grasped at anything he could to save himself from his mind running back to the memories of Greg's many dreams and fantasies about a one Mycroft Holmes, the exact Mycroft Holmes who happened to be sitting only a few meters from him. Sherlock was studying John as he made his way across the room and when John chose a seat near Sherlock, Greg could almost see him preen. Yes, completely love struck how had Greg missed it before? But then Greg had other things to worry about as Sherlock turned to study him narrowing his gaze in concentration. Greg tried to open his mouth to demand Sherlock explain why he was looking at Greg like that and also what the hell he had thought he was doing playing with those types of chemicals, but before he could Mycroft asked for him.

"Sherlock, what did you think you were doing? Playing with such volatile chemicals-tsk-Mummy would be upset." Mycroft said and Greg could hear the smirk in his voice and it made Greg's knees weak to hear Mycroft speak when he hadn't seen or spoken to him in so long.

Sherlock stared hard at Mycroft before asking angrily.

"Playing? I was not doing anything so trivial as playing, I was checking for a very important reaction for my research-"

"Which is on?" Mycroft interrupted smoothly.

"None of your business," Sherlock snapped back fingers halting their abuse on the violin's neck.

"Sherlock," John said in warning as everyone knew how Sherlock was when he was angry, but no one here specifically wanted to find out what a man as powerful as Mycroft would be like angry, that was the equivalent of pulling a rabid tiger's tail in Greg's mind.

"Mycroft, I want you gone," Sherlock stated as he pointed the door Greg still stood in.

"I'm afraid I just can't do that dear brother, you see I am worried for your safety and I have vowed to protect you from yourself." Mycroft said in a tone that would stop all argument from any normal person, but Sherlock wasn't normal and apparently he liked goading already dangerous animals into action.

"Leave now or I will have Lestrade throw you out," Sherlock threatened.

Mycroft just chuckled darkly and said, "Our dear Gregory is welcome to try."

Greg's heart soared at being called dear in a sentence that Mycroft used and he had to work hard to keep the happy grin he felt inside off his face. He felt his face twitch for a second before he forced it back and luckily Sherlock was distracted enough by Mycroft that Greg didn't think he noticed.

"Lestrade, this man is trespassing remove him from the premises." Sherlock stated seeming bored.

Lestrade took half a step forward conflicted, not wanting to do take make Mycroft leave yet also not waiting to explain to anyone why that was. John saved him.

"Wait, Mycroft how did you get up here?"

"I flashed one of these," Mycroft said flashing a very official and important looking badge at the room at large before sliding it back into his jacket.

"Yes, well now that show and tell is over, I once again insist you leave my flat." Sherlock said dryly, glaring at Mycroft.

"And I of course once again refuse," Mycroft stated calmly.

"And I once again call checkmate by saying yet again, Lestrade remove this man from my home."

Greg stood awkwardly half way to Mycroft and half way to the door, he had no clue what to do. Should he do nothing and risk Sherlock figuring out about Greg's strong feelings for his brother or should he listen to Sherlock and risk insulting Mycroft and having him leave possibly angry at Greg. Greg couldn't stand the thought. So he just stood in the middle of the room frozen to the spot and waiting for someone to notice his indecision when finally Mycroft turned to face him and he pinned Greg even more to the spot with his stare. Those eyes that piercing blue; Greg's face flushed and he tore his gaze away quickly, but he was sure everyone now knew Greg Lestrade had a bloody school girl-esk crush on Mycroft Holmes.

Greg turned back to look at the group and he found John staring at him with his head cocked to the side in confusion and two bloody machines scanning every little detail about him, storing it on their 'hard-drives' as they tended to call their brains. His finger felt very naked and he wondered which brother would notice first, he hoped it wasn't Sherlock as Sherlock had no discretion and Mycroft at least had tact.

"Ah-ha!" Sherlock crowed leaping from his seat in victory, Greg sent up a prayer to whoever happened to be listening for his sanity to remain intact.

"Wedding ring," Sherlock stated smugly looking at Mycroft and smiling at him in contempt.

Mycroft's gaze zeroed in on Greg's left hand, "I see," he whispered almost to himself.

Greg watched Mycroft's face as events earlier that night all came back to him. He had sat alone at that bar for a few hours before making his decision and heading home to confront Millie. She had known it was time for them to split and he figured she'd soon be having the new man move in. He had packed up a large amount of his clothes and important things for work and gotten the heck out of there, but before had had pulled away the light from the streetlamp had glinted off his wedding ring and he realized he shouldn't be wearing it anymore. He had left the car running and rushed back inside to find Millie slightly crying, she looked up at his reappearance and smiled, the smiled slowly slipped off her face as she watched him slide the ring from his finger and set it carefully on the kitchen table in front of her. He had then leaned forward and brushed his lips across her forehead in good-bye and left trotting back out to his car feeling lighter than he had felt in months, but he assumed that was just the adrenaline, he'd find out when he showed up at the hotel. If he crashed it had been adrenaline, if not then he was really free.

Mycroft watched the emotions flit across Gregory's face and he knew Gregory was experiencing a flashback of sorts, probably back to the events leading up to the separation and loss of his wedding ring. Mycroft studied Gregory's face carefully trying to see how the memory was affecting him. It was obviously a bit of a sad memory Mycroft thought to himself as the light in Gregory's eyes dimmed slightly, a mutual thing he also noted as Gregory's lips stayed firm and then lifted into a smile and this made Mycroft smile as Gregory was showing a clear sign that he was glad the marriage had ended.

Gregory gave a slight start showing anyone who had been observing that he was back in the present and no longer lost in a memory. Mycroft couldn't believe it; did this mean he had a chance?

"Greg?" John asked confused by everyone's strange behavior.

Greg smiled at John's confusion glad he wasn't the only one who sometimes felt off balance at the speed in which the brothers' minds worked.

"I left my wife John," Greg said smiling sadly taking pity on John's ignorance; it wasn't his fault that the other men in the room were geniuses and had already reached this conclusion.

Greg could see John was opening his mouth to either apologize or ask why, Greg held up a hand to silence John.

"She was sleeping with someone else, don't apologize it would have happened sooner or later." Greg said.

"Besides, her and I fell out of love a long time ago," Greg said smiling sadly and looking thoughtfully out the window at the dark.

"Yes, well I did tell you she was shagging another man," Sherlock's deep baritone interrupted Greg's thoughts.

"Sherlock!" John yelled in shock.

"That is no way to speak to a man who has just left his wife for those sorts of reasons." John scolded while Sherlock did his impression of a sullen puppy.

Greg gave a harsh laugh in the back of his throat before saying, "It's okay John, Sherlock was right she was getting along with another man and I couldn't deny the evidence anymore."

Sherlock nodded in apparent approval as John turned to survey the damage to his flat and Mycroft continued to watch him narrowly.

Standing suddenly Mycroft announced, "I'm leaving, Sherlock do try not to blow up Baker Street before I get home."

On an afterthought Mycroft added, "Gregory I'll take you back to your hotel."

Greg stared open mouthed; Mycroft was offering to take him to his hotel? And wait, how did Mycroft know he was staying in a hotel? His mind answer that last thought for him, because it was sodding Mycroft and Mycroft knows everything!

Greg's mind floundered for a response before he stuttered out, "M-m-my car is p-p-parked out front."

Mycroft didn't seem disheartened at that and said simply, "I'll have someone deliver it, I need to discuss a few issues with you."

Greg swallowed thickly, that didn't seem like it would be a pleasant experience. Mycroft's wording suggested business, but his easy stroll and swinging of his umbrella suggested a less formal discussion. Greg sighed knowing that resisting Mycroft's wishes was as useless as trying to mix oil and water and began to follow Mycroft out.

Greg turned back to look at Sherlock and John, he could see John was waiting to scold Sherlock about the flat until after they left and Greg smiled before saying cryptically, "Remember John, what we discussed early."

Mycroft had wandered out while Greg had turned back and Greg followed shutting the door behind him, but not before hearing Sherlock crow, "Ha! Got Mycroft out!"

Greg also heard John lay into Sherlock for his behavior, but it seemed more reserved than the scolding the man normally gave so Greg figured Sherlock would survive the night. Rushing out of the flat Greg found the large black car already awaiting him at the curb and Mycroft's driver holding the door open for him. Greg flushed at being treated this way like he was something special. Scooting into the posh car Greg tried not to focus on Mycroft, it was damn difficult.

The ride began awkwardly as Greg attempted to look anywhere other than Mycroft while Mycroft chose to stare openly at the nervous DI.

Finally Mycroft cleared his throat and began, "About my brother."