Some of you wanted to read more of this story so here we go. Hope you like it (and certainly let me know via review!)

Greg turned around and looked at the closed door behind himself anxiously. Slowly, he returned his attention to Mycroft who'd been watching him carefully for the whole time and now blushed when he was caught staring. Greg cleared his throat nervously and made two small steps towards Mycroft.

„So…" he began but his voice died out. They watched each other in embarassment and it was the longest and most awkward silence Greg ever experienced. He wanted to say so many things and yet he couldn't bring himself to pronounce even one of them. Mycroft's thoughtful, inquiring eyes were piercing him and he felt even more intimidated.

He'd had an interest in the older Holmes brother for a longer time and he'd spent many nights thinking about himself, Mycroft and what was the thing that had made him put their names together in his fantasies. The more he tried to deny it, the more obvious it was getting and finally, there he was; standing right in front of the British government and unable to say a single word. Nevertheless, he thought, the latter wasn't too talkative either. To be fair, he never was.

„Do not feel ashamed, just speak as you wish." Mycroft broke the silence first to ease Lestrade's nervosity. However, he wasn't very successful and Greg felt even more stupid. He was just waiting for Mycroft to break into fit of uncontrollable laughter, Sherlock to storm into the room with tears of glee on his face and to be told he was an idiot.

„Don't worry, I'm not a part of my brother's childish game. I would not allow him to use me to make fool of you." Mycroft went on and Greg froze.

„But he did make a fool of me," he said more to himself, „I bet he's already returned the dog and now he's somewhere laughing…"

„I do not wish to spoil it for you, but I doubt that. He really did want the dog," Mycroft objected in an unusually soft voice.

„Don't lie just to make me feel better. Sherlock doesn't like dogs," Lestrade growled.

„No he doesn't. But John does, at least due to Sherlock," Mycroft sighed and looked at the wall that had been shot by Sherlock so long ago.

„John? He's still hasn't given up then?" Greg asked in surprise. He was hiding twitching fingers behind his back. He felt like a schoolboy who was waiting to ask his first girl out.

„Apparently not." Mycroft made a face that Greg had commonly associated with when Mycroft spoke about his younger brother. „I don't think my brother respects things such as laws or marriage. He believes John belongs to him and considers himself the first person in John's life. And he is not going to stop before anything to prove it."

„Like selling you," Greg said subconsciously, „but why?"

„I have a theory but I do not wish to say it aloud because it may offend you and embarass me if it was wrong." Mycroft explained and averted gaze. Of course he had a theory, it was so plain and yet beautiful. Neat, Sherlock would say. But he could not make himself talk about it aloud, not to Greg. Why would Sherlock even think it would work? He hadn't talked to Greg too much and even less in front of Sherlock. He wasn't aware of anything either he or the inspector had done that would indicate any attraction between them. It wasn't logical, why had Sherlock done what he had done? There was no other explanation though. Why would Sherlock try to sell Mycroft through an advertisement in the papers – papers Mycroft didn't read, so it was not to anger him – if not to get to Lestrade? And if he wanted the dog, why did he need Lestrade to do it? It didn't make sense whatsoever.

„Well you know," Greg grinned and pulled one chair to himself, turned the back of it towards Mycroft and sat onto it with legs spread widely. He saw a sparkle in Mycroft's eyes which encouraged him. „I own you now. I can order you to tell me."

„I do not think so," Mycroft leant forward, folding his hands into the same gesture as his brother often did.

„Why?" Greg asked and gave Mycroft a lopsided smirk.

„Try to. Make me," Mycroft teased, „here I am, Gregory."

„Oh." Lestrade tried to think of a witty reply, „uh, right. Well,"

„Don't tell me you can't think of anything. Don't disappoint me, detective inspector," Mycroft said the last words almost mockingly. Greg didn't know whether to blush or to feel like a bucket of cold water was thrown on his head. He usually had mixed feelings about Sherlock but it was far worse with Mycroft; in this moment more than usual.

„Well, I can. Right," Greg said and didn't look into Mycroft's eyes. He stood up quickly and walked over to him. Without looking at him because it might be the end of his attempt to surprise Mycroft, he walked straight in front of Holmes.

I'm gonna either regret this or feel immesurably happy to have done it, Greg thought and bent down. Mycroft understood his intentions only a second before he did it what meant quite lot. Mycroft hadn't had time to appreciate how smart and inventive Greg was because in a while his thoughts were clouded by rush of hormones.

Greg closed his eyes and kissed Mycroft. Only softly and briefly; it was so short Mycroft was for a while doubting it really happened. But it did and when they looked at each other, something was different.

„I've wanted to do that for some time," Greg whispered, his face only few inches from Mycroft's. He placed his hands on the armrests of the chair Holmes was sitting in awkwardly, not really sure what to do with his body.

„So do it again," Mycroft replied, his eyes focused on Greg's face.

„Shall I?" Lestrade inquired, looking up as if he was thinking.

„Take the bloody hint, will you?" Mycroft spat and surprised them both by sounding quite harsh. Greg grinned like a little child.

„You're a pretty eager man, aren't you?" Greg taunted.

„And a one used to getting what he wants." Mycroft nodded and with that he caught Greg's shirt into his hands and pulled the detective down onto his lap. They looked at each other in astonishment. Greg was kneeling with his knees on either side of Mycroft and he was not at all uncomfortable with how close they were. He didn't think he could last that for long, though. Mycroft was giving him a look that said he hadn't expected that but that he would use it.

„Careful, Mr Holmes. I might arrest you," Lestrade cooed. He had no idea where this flirting came from, but from Mycroft's arms, that were now laid on his thigs, he could feel it was working. Holmes was either having some illness or heart-attack or his flirting wasn't as bad as he thought.

„For what? Somebody should arrest you for being so handsome," Mycroft responded and Lestrade needed a while to take that in.

„For many things. Attack on a policeman, attempt to seduce or even abuse said policeman in a sexual way, being naughty…" Greg was counting on fingers while he listened to his heartbeat.

„Naughty, you say," Mycroft put on a thoughtful face, „and what about if I do this, inspector?"

Mycroft moved his hands up Greg's legs; the higher he got the slower he went and the slower he went the harder it was to concentrate. Lestrade found himself wishing Mycroft moved his fingers a bit closer to his groin, just a bit closer…

„That you are a teasing and vile creature," Greg groaned. „I order you to kiss me."

„What if I don't obey, sir?" Mycroft asked and drew small circles on Lestreade's thighs with his thumbs.

„I'll kiss you myself," Greg smiled and did as he said. He grabbed Mycroft's face into his hands and gave him a passionate kiss. They were nipping at each other's lips for some time before they had to get some air.

„That's not the kind of punishment I was expecting," Mycroft breathed into Greg's mouth.

„Ah? And what was it?" Lestrade asked while he dared to put all his weight on Mycroft, placing his chest on the latter's breast. Their hearts were fighting in a race and Greg felt very smug that he made Mycroft's body respond that way.

„A dinner with you maybe," Mycroft suggested, „a long walk in a park with lots of talking."

„Really? Such ordinary things?" Greg asked in surprise. Mycroft nodded.

„Yes, such ordinary things. I'm not Sherlock. I might be as intelligent as he is, but I'm not opposed to do ordinary things," Mycroft looked into Greg's eyes before he added: „It's enough when the people I do them with are extraordinary."

„And you-" Greg had to swallow, „you think I'm extraordinary?"

„Yes, Gregory. You are special." They stared at each other before Greg pulled a bit away and placed his hands on Mycroft's chest.

„Fine. I'll go for this punishments. Do you by any chance have time tonight?" he asked.

„I have to stop a war from starting, I have few very important meetings and there's a bomb-attack planned on this evening. Nothing I couldn't cancel." Mycroft grinned.

„And what about we begin with the walk right now?" Greg suggested and stood up.

„Who's the eager now?" Mycroft laughed and stood up as well. They walked through the door, closed it and descended the stairs. Then they opened the front door and Mycroft let Greg walk through, brushing his fingertips gently against Lestrade's back. Once outside, they turned to walk without really going anywhere, as people in love often do. After what felt like a moment but was a twenty-minutes time Greg suddenly remembered something.

„I hope Sherlock's got his keys."

So that's it, I hope you enjoyed. The question is: Do you want more of this? Because I didn't plan to make this a multichapter story but I'll continue if you wish to (what wouldn't I do for you, right? :))

Thanks for reading.