Trying something new here. Hope you all like.
Greg Lestrade hated these things. No matter what he said, he always sounded uneducated and dull. No matter what he wore he looked like a homeless slob. No matter what he did he looked like an uncultured, unmannered pig.
Still he continued to let Mycroft drag him to these things time and again.
He let Mycroft convince him that this time it would be better. He didn't believe him, to be honest.
He would walk in, always a few minutes before Mycroft (at Greg's insistence) and he would try to mingle among the ambassadors, prime ministers, government leaders and foreign dictators.
He would fail, because-despite Mycroft's coaching-he had no political sense.
The one time he got into a real conversation with some dignitary he nearly started World War III.
Sometimes he wondered why he bothered. Then he would look across the room at Mycroft and remember that he came because Mycroft-his BOYFRIEND Mycroft- always looked ridiculously sexy during these things.
And if the sex afterwards was anything to go by, Mycroft thought the same about him.
Sammy Richardson loved these things. He had never expected to get the job with the Ambassador when he applied. Yet here he was, at a Christmas party in England with some of the most important people in the world.
Sure, no one spoke to him, but then again, he hadn't expected them to. He was just an assistant, a college kid. And he was happy just to be there.
As he walked to the bathroom, he carefully reviewed the sheet of etiquette rules that the Ambassador had given him before letting him come.
He must have been really absorbed in the reading.
He opened the door to the janitor's closet.
He really should have slammed it shut and fled.
He stood frozen as he watched the two men in the closet. He really didn't want to see (he insisted mentally). He just couldn't move.
The one closer to him had his pants down. And there were-um- fingers um in him.
The other one was Mycroft-fucking-Holmes!
The one who wasn't Holmes tried to pull away and stop and cover up when he realized the door was open.
Holmes just looked at him over his lover's shoulder in annoyance and gestured to close the doors.
Sammy ran to the Ambassador (well, first he stopped in the bathroom. Just to pee. Seriously).
"What would you say if I told you someone here was gay?" He whispered furtively to the Ambassador, having dragged him to the side of the room.
The Ambassador laughed. "I would say you were talking about Mycroft and that you're really slow on the uptake."
Sammy was stunned. "You know?"
"Its my business to know. Besides, anyone with two eyes and half a brain knows. He's got that police officer, Lestrade." The Ambassadot said, pointing at the red faced man rejoining the crowd. "Half the countries of the world keep an eye on him to get on England's good side."
The Ambassador looked across the room and frowned. "I don't know what you saw or heard, but Mycroft wants to talk with you. Don't say anything he doesn't want to hear."
Sammy made his way across the room, nervously.
"Good evening, Samuel" the man who controlled all of England said to him. "How's your sister? Did she have the baby yet?"
Sammy was too stunned to answer. Once again he found himself frozen.
"I've noticed you around these events recently. It's wonderful that you managed to get the position. It's a great opportunity."
Sammy couldn't shake the feeling that he was being threatened. He wasn't ready for these political games.
"There's someone I'd like you to meet." He gestured and Lestrade walked over. "This is Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade," he announced. Lestrade offered a hand. "Gregory, this is Sammy. The college student I was telling you about."
Lestrade turned bright red and pulled back his hand.
Greg really, really, really hated these things.