Mycroft Holmes looked up from his bed and into the vast white ceiling of his room, was it 11 o'clock already? He had to get up, surely the constant thought of never being loved (especially by one certain Lestrade) shouldn't keep him down, right? Nah. He got out of bed and stretched, the kind of stretch that was most always followed by a quick thirty minute run on the treadmill.

He looked out the window as he ran, it took a while but then he illusioned (his) Gregory Lestrade gliding through on his way to work. He looked again, found out it wasn't an illusion and nearly jumped for joy (though he didn't, it's not safe to jump for joy on a treadmill you know). He quickly stopped the mill and ran to the window, he was already halfway down the street, it renewed his hope though, to ever find 'true love'. Maybe he'd take his little brother lunch today, he'd be with Gregory, right? That was a great excuse to go see him.

He got back onto the treadmill and finished his thirty minute run, then got off to go clean up in the shower. He called Anthea, telling her all about his renewed love and reason to live in adolescent valley girl detail, though you could say he was nothing of the sort. He finished his quick shower and searched (in his 'mind palace' of course) on where to get Sherlock lunch. He couldn't spend too much money, despite being the British Government. Maybe he'd pick up some Arbys on the way. That would be good. The spent some time getting ready too, he had to look reasonably good since D. would be there, right? He decided on a blue-ish suit and a lighter blue tie (striped) and set out to Arby's.

On the walk there his shoes got a bit tarnished in the rain (setting on the ground) and he was a bit worried about that, but he pushed it aside. The thing that made him most frustrated was when leaned against the Arby's counter and got a big grease stain on his suit, maybe he should've gotten Anthea to go and grab the food for him. Less work was always the best option. He got the food and left, he'd gotten a prime-cut chicken sandwich for Sherlock and a reuben for himself. It was still warm now, though he would have to hurry and remember to hold the bag away from himself (he didn't want to get even more dirty).

He made it to the door, a defiant proud-of-himself look on his face, after all he had just made it all the way across town without the use of a car or the assistance of Anthea (he'd actually rode on her back once to keep his shoes from the rains touch). He practiced his smile and walked into the office. It wasn't at all what he'd expected, in fact it made him doubt what he'd even expected, Sherlock wasn't in sight. He'd expected to see the man running around frantically (as always) and he'd practiced the scene out a couple of times in his head of stopping him for a nice lunch (or maybe 'nice' isn't quite the right word). That, it now seemed, wouldn't work out as he'd planned. He went to the front office and looked around, searching for some kind of clerk, or whatever the desk-people were called, he'd blanked out. He didn't find one so he wandered around aimlessly (though he'd never admit it) for a few minutes before hearing a cry from one of the people that he'd always loved to hear from the very most.

"Mycroft, right? What are you doing here, surly business need you elsewhere!" Mycroft thought of swinging into Lestrade's arms but hesitated that would be embarrassing with a capital E. Instead he simply smiled and said,

"I was looking for Sherlock, I brought him lunch." He was met with a quiet laugh back, and a reply of,

"Sherlock's off to lunch right now. What did you you bring?"

"Nuh-nothing much!" he shaked out, hesitantly, "Do you want it, since it seems that Sherlock is not here to appreciate my thoughtful gift."

"Sure, I'm sure Sherlock would appreciate your efforts, even if you gave them to me." There was that smile again, Mycroft thought. He could stand that smile, it was the one that made his longing for love ever so much stronger. They met eyes (though only for a moment) and then Lestrade led Mycroft to his office, which was also very different than Mycroft's expectations (that's the problem with 'never living' it messes with your expectations). It had a very normal feel and the slight sound of music in the background….The Ramones, Mycroft thought, as he faintly recalled the song.

"Ahhhhhh! Sorry about the music! I'm sure you wouldn't want to listen to that!" Gregory frantically said and turned the volume so low it would be considered silent.

"It's fine." Mycroft smiled, do not lose your cool now, he thought to himself, "It tell me about you.".

"You sure?" the D.I. said, inching the volume of his rock back up, "I Wanna Be Sedated", Mycroft further recognized, he recognized the song but could not quite catch the words. Nice.

"Yes, It's fine. Are you assuming that I am not interested in the musical arts?" Mycroft questioned.

"No, not at all. I do have to admit that I didn't think that The Ramones were a band that you would thoroughly enjoy though. I guess I was wrong though." He finished, noticing Mycroft simplistic lip movements to make him seem as though he knew the words, The Ramones would not be his first choice or even if given one-hundred choices would not stretch the list, Lestrade was fooled though. Simple, Holmes thought.

He opened the bag and gave Lestrade the sandwich meant for Sherlock, the prime-cut chicken and set his own in front of himself. "Well...thanks for the free meal. I wasn't feeling out for leaving the office today and it would've seemed i'd had too if you hadn't arrived."He smiled, taking a bite of the chicken sandwich. He swallowed and hummed a bit to the music, of which now was "Needles and Pins" it seemed as though Lestrade had a whole playlist of The Ramones, and Mycroft thought that was sexy. They smiled at each other, Mycroft being the first one to look away, Lestrade staring only a little bit longer. It made sense though, since Gregory looked all over, from his eyes to his hair to his arms which had formed a layer of goosebumps on their surfaces which could faintly be seen where his suit cut off. There was a frenzy of sheepish smiles and then some more laughter. Giggly laughter from Mycroft.

"Stop it Lestrade!" Mycroft shouted, panic and fear and frenzy and anger flooding into his voice more every second. He shouted and then stood still, trying desperately for the tears to not show. He slammed his left palm into the table and said "Stop being cute! You're making me like you more than I should. So just stop!"

"Hahaha~" Lestrade laughed, "I see," and then, "well you have no excuse! You've been doing the same all night." Lestrade smiled then leaned over and kissed Mycroft straight on the mouth, the pure frenzy of the moment making him lose his restraint. Mycroft kissed him back, and smiled for one last time. For keeps. he pulled back ever so slowly and then shuddered and felt Lestrade staring. "You've not kissed?" he asked and chuckled.

"Wha-what! Of course i've kissed!"

"In kindergarten?" Gregory teased.

"That's quite possible."

"You're so silly!" he said and kissed him again.