Step Two: Becoming An Acquaintance

Greg thought that was that; he thought he was done with Sherlock Holmes and his slightly more infuriating older brother.

That was until, four weeks later, Sherlock crashed another crime scene, stoned out of his skull, mouthing off about cats and pollen and men in Batman costumes. Greg just ignored his rambling in favour of cuffing the smug jackass and throwing him into the back of an unmarked car.

Sherlock shouted and threw himself against the door until, three hours later, he was completely knackered and asleep across the seats. He looked oddly sweet like that, knees curled up to his chin, curls hiding his eyes from view. He was the kind of guy Greg usually went for (you know, when slipping off his wedding ring and pretending to not be married to Victoria Lestrade).

But this was Sherlock; he was insane and weird and a drug-addict and his brother was absolutely fucking annoying.

Speaking of his brother, Greg was just about to head back to the Yard to skim over his notes when an expensive black car pulled up. He walked towards it with every intention of telling the occupants to sod off when the back door open and the other Holmes stepped out.

Greg groaned, the other man smirked.

'Good evening, Detective inspector Lestrade.'

'What do you want?'

The man tutted. 'Is that anyway to greet a citizen of this fine country?'

'Yes, now what do you want?'

Holmes smiled. 'I want you to let my brother go.'

Greg groaned. 'Not this again.'

'Yes, this again.'

'Why?'

'My brother has done nothing wrong.'

'He crashed a crime scene and he's high as a fucking kite,' Greg said, jabbing a finger in the relative direction of his car. 'I can't just let him go.'

Holmes smiled and there was nothing pleasant about it. 'Perhaps I need to call your boss again?'

Greg scowled. 'Yeah, thanks for that, by the way.'

'You are most welcome.'

'Seriously, what is your problem?'

Holmes raised an eyebrow and regarded Greg with that cold look the DI was hoping he never have to get used to.

'Do you enjoy throwing your weight around, is that it?' Greg demanded. 'Do you like threatening to ruin people's lives?'

Holmes opened his mouth to reply but Greg talked over him.

'You just stand there all cool and fucking mysterious while the rest of us have to trudge around meeting your every goddamn whim. Forget about the fact that your brother just contaminated a fucking crime scene; no, let's forget that and let him off because big brother's got a good job. Let's just forget the fact that he's high and let him off because you have a fucking power complex!'

Again Holmes opened his mouth and, once again, Greg didn't let him reply.

'You know what? Just take him, fucking take him, I don't care. I've been working three fucking days straight and now I've got twice as much paperwork because of your darling brother. So take him and if I ever see him again I'll fucking knock him out cold, got it?'

He turned and stormed away, not stopping until he was by his car.

'And the same goes for you!' he shouted at the elder Holmes, who hadn't moved since Greg began his rant. 'If I see you again I'm knocking you on your fucking arse!'

Holmes just stood there silently, staring, trying to remember the last time someone had yelled at him and gotten away with it.

{oOo}

Greg was on his third cup of coffee and feeling a hundred years old when there was a knock on the door. He groaned and looked up, neck cracking as he mumbled, 'Come in.'

The door opened and Greg groaned louder when the other Holmes entered.

'What?' he demanded. 'Come to tell me I'm fired? No, wait, you're having me deported. Oh, told my wife I like fucking men on the side?'

Holmes regarded him coolly, umbrella resting against the floor as he closed the door softly.

'Go on, out with it, I wanna go home.'

'I'm sorry.'

Greg jumped in his seat and looked up. 'What?'

'I'm sorry,' Holmes replied.

'You... wait, I'm asleep and this is a dream, right?'

Holmes scowled. 'Did you not hear me? I said I'm sorry.'

'I heard you, I just don't believe it.' Greg yawned and took a swig of his coffee before leaning back.

Holmes fidgeted with his umbrella before saying, 'May I sit?'

Greg shrugged and Holmes crossed the room before delicately sitting in one of the seats before Greg's desk. The two men eyed each other in silence, Greg drinking his coffee, Holmes tapping on his knee.

'So...' Greg started, not sure what Holmes wanted.

'I want to apologise for my behaviour,' Holmes said slowly, 'in my line of work I am used to being followed, regardless of what I ask. I forget that I cannot order everybody around without receiving some form of annoyance. Though I must say, I cannot remember the last time I was yelled at.'

Greg just stared, sure he'd had an aneurism. Because men like the elder Holmes didn't seem the type to apologise.

'I care about my brother, Detective Inspector,' Holmes said, 'and I will do anything to ensure his happiness, even if that means annoying respectable men like yourself.'

'Er... alright...' Greg said slowly.

'Do you accept my apology?' Holmes asked, suddenly looking innocent and vulnerable.

'Erm... suppose so, yeah.'

And then the cold, mysterious politician was back. 'Thank you, Detective.' After a pause he held out a hand and Greg took it. His skin was smooth, soft, warm, and Greg gulped as he pulled back. 'Until next time, Detective Inspector.'

'Next time?' Greg asked.

Holmes smiled and pulled a business car from his jacket pocket. He slid it across the desk and looked up at Greg, blue eyes mischievous. 'Next time,' he said and left.

Greg sat in silence for a minute before picking up the card.

Mycroft Holmes

He smirked. Even his business card seemed pompous. Greg leaned back in his seat and smiled, fiddling with the card. It seemed Mycroft Holmes wasn't as annoying as Greg first thought.