DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sherlock or any characters. They belong to SACD and BBC.

I apologize if this is bad. It's my first ever fanfiction. Reviews are very welcome! Italics are memories, normal text is the present.

The First Encounter:

Greg Lestrade sat in his office with his head on his folded arms on his desk. He had fallen asleep 37 minutes previously and was now dreaming something that had been in his dreams for weeks. He had been having reoccurring dreams of him. The one person who made his heart flutter and his face redden just by saying his name. The one person who he actually looked forward to seeing on a regular basis. After all, they both had to deal with Sherlock. This person's name? Mycroft Holmes.

It happened 2 weeks after his first conversation with that bugger Sherlock Holmes. A black car had been waiting outside the Yard when he left after receiving a note from Donovan that said to get in the car without a question. He did as was told because he was too tired to argue. He sat inside and glanced to his right to see a woman clad all in black. She simply sat and typed on her phone not even glancing up as she spoke. "Hello Detective Inspector." He started to ask how she knew his name when he thought better of it. They rode in silence for about 20 minutes before arriving at a warehouse. He was told to go in and wait for the boss. He walked in without so much as another word. He stood in the dark room and waited for what seemed like forever. Eventually he heard a small clicking behind him and turned. An impeccably dressed man in a three piece suit was walking with a black umbrella in his right hand. He came to a stop a foot in front of Greg and leaned slightly on said umbrella. "Detective Inspector." He said. Greg simply stared at the man. "I noticed you've been in contact with one Sherlock Holmes and I was wondering if you'd do me the favor of trading me information on him for help on cases that Sherlock won't do." "Who are you and Why would you want information on Sherlock?" Greg's cop sense told him not to agree. "Well he and I have what you might call an estranged relationship." "Wait...so you're related?" The man sighed. "In a way, yes. We're brothers as a matter of fact." "SHERLOCK HAS A BROTHER?!" Another sigh from the man. "Yes DI. He has a brother, named Mycroft and it's me, your answer please?" "I'm not sure Mr. Holmes. Spying on Sherlock, isn't that a little silly?" "Pardon?" "Well it's just that Sherlock can figure out almost everything no matter what." "I require an answer by Sunday DI. That's in three days. Talk then. I'll be in touch." And that was that. He left. Greg walked outside and saw that the black car was back. He got in the car and was brought home. He didn't ask how they knew his address. He went inside, poured a glass of scotch and watched the telly until he fell asleep. That was when the dreams began.

Mycroft Holmes sat in his office in the Diogenes Club House and simply stared at the wall, the glass of brandy at his elbow forgotten. He steepled his fingers under his chin not unlike his dear brother Sherlock. His mind had wandered far from his work of saving England and onto the topic of that man. The incredibly sexy-wait, he couldn't possibly be having those kinds of thoughts, could he? Well at any rate he certainly thought he was very kind and was a very hard working and intelligent (not at much as him) man. This man? One Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade.