A/N: So this is a new fanfiction, that was stuck in my Head forever.
This will be a Mystrade fanfiction with little hint on Johnlock, which means it will be Slash/Yaoi/Male on Male (or whatever you will call it)
I'm not sure how far I will take this but this will be rated M.
I hope you will enjoy this, and if there are any major mistakes feel free to tell me. I'm not a native speaker after all and am glad to improve.
He frankly stared at it. The small, roundish, white object just lay there and he was sure not to get any kind of answer from it. Neither had he expected the man opposite to him to give him further explanations.
This was Mycroft Holmes after all so he must have missed something that would clarify why the younger man sat here in his office, a few minutes before end of his shift, extending his hand and seemingly offering him some kind of pill, without a word, well without a word of explanation as to why he would offer it.
"I'm sorry?" He most probably looked pretty unattractive right now, not that he cared, his mouth slightly open and eyes wandering from the hand that was holding the tablet to its owner.
"An analgesic."
Oh, of course that changed the whole thing!
An analgesic, how couldn't he have thought of that?
Since it was an everyday occurrence to have a man that he practically didn't know, who the first time he met him kidnapped him to ask him about motives concerning his brother, making him feel like a pervert who wanted to lay hands on a minor, sitting in his office and offering him a, well an analgesic, after again questioning him concerning his motives towards another man.
"Sorry..?" He felt quite dumb for asking again, but today was one of those days when one was pretty sure to have stayed in bed would have been a better idea.
"I thought it to be apposite to offer you a, how would you phrase it, a pain killer, since I am obviously the reason to your headache."
The smooth voice was as charming as ever, but he could not help but quite literally cringe since he knew no matter how nicely put it was, there was a condescending attitude along those words, not even he, who so apparently missed the obvious again, could help but notice.
His mood was getting the better of him and he could feel the headache, the other so casually talked about, increase.
"You cannot be serious!"
The other looked rather astonished at his choice of words, and it was for the first time he could see the polite smile gracing the younger man's featured falter, although it was only for mere seconds.
"I assure you, I am quite serious. Otherwise I would not sit here, when there are other things to be taken care of."
Greg gave a dismissing gesture to that. He wouldn't be the one to hinder the other of whatever 'things' he deemed to be important.
"Go on", 'there is the door' he added mentally.
Mycroft's smile returned.
"Oh, Detective Inspector Lestrade, I meant not to offend you. I merely emphasized my sincerity in this matter."
The older of the two managed a dry smile.
"And of what are you so sincere? Of offering me a pain killer, when you know you are the reason for my headache and most probably already knew you were going to cause it before you even set foot into the yard, or of asking me if I had any immoral intentions concerning your dead brother's flat mate?"
"Oh I never thought it to be immoral intentions, dear Detective Inspector." He could see a glint of contentment in the other man's eyes and I didn't help him maintain his last bit of reservation. Mycroft simply lowered his gaze to fidget with his umbrella. He would have thought it to be a hint betraying the other man's nervousness, but the small smile, or rather the small movement of his mouth, showed that the older Holmes brother merely tried to cover his amusement. At least it was what Greg thought it to be.
"Ok, but still I don't see why you would care, even if you would have thought it to be immoral intentions. I don't see the whole point of this" he waved his hand around and let out a sigh. "John Watson is a grown man, who can most probably decide if he would agree with any immoral offers I would make. And don't give me that I worry shit! Your brother won't be there to care, will he?"
He knew he was being unfair now. First of all he could imagine the other to be quite affected by his younger brother's sudden death, and deep inside of him he was aware of the fact that the other was being awfully kind to him, well kind in a holmsish way, since he hadn't insulted his intellect, even though spending at least five minute watching him opening and closing his mouth again while starring at a white pill.
Also he didn't seem to hold any kind of grudge against him, although he was the one to step in his younger brother's back.
Little did he know that the other was the last to be angry about that, but he was actually rather happy not to have to talk about it, since even though he had been through this at least a thousand times with both Anderson and Sally, he couldn't change the fact he had a bad conscience.
"Detective Inspector, I would ask you to mind your language, and I am sorry to disappoint you, but it is a matter to me because I care. Dr. John Watson after all was the reason why my brother was let's say tempered, as tempered as Sherlock Holmes could ever be; also he has successfully hindered my dear brother from falling back to old habits of drug misuse and also most probably from killing himself by this means.
Not that it had stopped the younger Holmes from committing suicide in the end.
"And that is the reason to question me, no interrogate me, about my relationship with him? He was awfully tired and his rage subsided rather fast. The loss of sleep finally did get him.
"Yes, since I would like to learn, if you do intend to broaden that relationship. I would not want anybody, let us say, inapt to get too close to the doctor, after all he still knows rather much a detail about things he should not."
"Don't tell me you fancy him yourself", he laughed at the thought.
Mycroft seemed rather taken aback, although not in any way, that suggested Lestrade's absurd idea was anywhere near the truth, just mildly affronted.
"I assure you, if I would take any interest in the Doctor I would make my proposals and if he were to say no, I would not care if he decided to enter a relationship with you."
"Holy… ", he couldn't control his laughter. He was not sure if it was one of those infamous situations, when people couldn't handle a situation and began to laugh hysterically, the lack of sleeo or if it was just genuinely funny.
The whole happening was just absurd.
"Proposals ? You sound like you want to marry him."
Mycroft watched him. No emotions were to be seen on his face, although his eyes again lowered to his umbrella. This time it was sure out to embarrassment. But Greg was too much of a versed policemen to not know that I was still not because the other man was embarrassed about his choice of words, but embarrassed with the fact, that the younger was making a fool of himself.
Greg cleared his throat, he could not go on laughing, this was a powerful man in front of him, he shouldn't forget. He took a few calming breaths.
"Ok, so how did ever you, seriously, think of the concept of me and John Watson shagging?"
"Oh it was rather standing to reason, although, I would have never phrased it like this.
You are recently divorced, with an unfaithful wife, one might add, hence any experimental interactions would be rather likely, if it was only to take vengeance on her. This and the fact, that in you had quite a few number of homoerotic encounters in your youth, so you would not be indisposed to any such occurrences. Also you have seen Doctor Watson on a rather frequent basis, lately.
Greg just stared at the man in front of him.
"Truth be told, I have no idea where to start, answering to that."
He defiantly was not lying. Only a Holmes could come up with such a theory. Brilliant as they seemed most of the time, this was wrong on so many levels!
"I don't know where the fuck you learned about my youth, for the moment I'm just going to pretend that I'm not totally creeped out by that, but since when is it a crime for two blokes to meet a few times a week and have a pint or two? And although it is quite hard to admit, and believe me, Mr. Homes, you are the last person I considered talking to about my problems, but it is a fact that neither of us have many friends to relate to at the moment.
John has nobody, since you know, what Sherlock is, was like, so there was little time for him to meet other people, and with me it is quite frankly that all our friends seemed to believe I was the big bad guy that drove my wife into the arms of another. So to tell the truth it is only natural for us to meet on a frequent basis", he mocked Mycroft's last words and was surprised how fast his anger reappeared. Glaring crossly at the other, he sat back in his chair.
Mycroft seemed to study him for a few seconds, then decided to be pleased by this aswer.
"Well. If this is the case, I might just ask one last favor of you, if you are so kind."
"Yes?" he bit out. He would do anything to make this man leave as soon as possible.
"Would you lend me your phone?"
Greg gestured to the phone standing directly in front of the older Holmes.
"Oh no, I meant your mobile phone."
"Sure." He sighed. I couldn't be worse than having the other stay any longer.
When Mycroft gave him a last polite smile, before leaving his office, he let himself fall back into his chair.
Oh how he loved the Holmeses, always nice and easy to work with.
He slid his mobile open, and looked through the text/sent section.
It plainly said:
Cleared. Do not make me reiterate this.
MH
Quickly he checked his inbox. He was rather interested how an answer to that might look like.
He was quite surprised to actually find an answer.
Why wouldn't the other person send their text to Mycroft's phone?
Oh, come on.
It was like a piece of cake to you, wasn't it?
Bee
He just stared at the screen. Bee? Who on earth would chose this kind of code name?
And what was the cake to mean. Did, whoever wrote this text, want to express that it was no big deal for Mycroft anyway.
No, that couldn't be the only meaning of the message. Not with Mycroft Holmes.
Cake… Cake was nice after all. Did this stranger imply that Mycroft Holmes had enjoyed this?
But what was this, anyway? Did he enjoy asking him, since he liked to cause him trouble, or because he did care for John, or because he was interested in either of them?
Or was it just because he simply liked to make an impression?
His fingers drummed on his desk in anticipation, deeply ravished in though. The sound of a small object clattering as he did so, made him look up. Then he saw it.
Ok, now he was quite sure it must have been his last theory that explained the text. There it was, lying innocently in the middle of his desk.
A small, white pill!
He jumped up and stared at it, as if it would disappear if he only stared hardly enough.
Sod it, he took the pill, gulped it down without any water, took his jacked and keys and headed for the door.