PART IV

I'm drowning gotta make it back to shore

I'm feeling incomplete can't take this

You give me all that I need

You give me all that I need

You are the air that I breath

You are my everything

You give me all that I need

It had been four months since Lestrade moved out of Mycroft's townhouse. Four, long and horrible months for the British Government official. He hadn't heard from his former lover since that time other than the handful of instances where they had meet at crime scenes with Sherlock. Greg was always so polite and inquired about his life. Sherlock had at first been wildly confused as well as curious about the change in their relationship but had since found a new distraction in Dr. John Watson. The happy announcement had been sent out last week.

It was after receiving said announcement of his younger brother's upcoming nuptials to the compassionate ex-army doctor that he had decided it was time to leave his position in the government and focus on his personal life. He had plenty of money and could live comfortable for some time without the work. Mycroft knew that he needed to step back and figure out where he wanted to go and what he needed to do to get Lestrade back because that's what he had truly wanted from the beginning. Lestrade back in his life and in his arms. He acknowledged that if that was to happen that changes needed to be made, by both himself and his dear detective inspector.

Mycroft supposed that was why he had done it, sent Lestrade the text message asking him to meet him here at their favorite restaurant. Seeing his brother so happily settled had driven home what he had already known all along. Lestrade was his only chance at happiness. Without the older man he had nothing good in his life. Even when they hadn't seen each other for days on end it was still a constant comfort to know that all he had to do was reach into his pocket and withdraw his phone and send off a text to the man and he would respond. It had been the affirmation that Mycroft had always needed but never known.

So he sat and waited and watched the people around him. Three young people sat at a table together, two men and a girl. The two men held hands and watched each other with soft expressions. We're in love, their body language screamed to anyone who cared to look. The young woman, obviously pregnant, looked miserable as she sat on the opposite side of the table and fiddled with her water glass and plate of pasta. Her gaze landed on the lighter haired of the pair and the look she gave him spoke volumes about where her mind was. I'm in love with him and he doesn't even know it.

"Mycroft," the sound of his name spoke by the voice he had missed so very much brought his head around. He rose and without a thought pulled Greg into a hug. He squeezed the man tightly and breathed in the scent of his aftershave and the normal musk that was all him. Lestrade's arms came around him and gave a brief squeeze in return. Stepping back he noticed that his former lover was smiling. Well, that was a good sign at last.

"It's so good to see you." He responded as he stepped back and pulled Lestrade's chair out for him. The detective paused for a moment but finally seemed to decide to allow the gesture. There had been a time not so long ago that Lestrade wouldn't have hesitated; he would have expected it because that's what Mycroft did for him. Had four months really changed so much between them? The thought made him want to cry. Once he was settled Mycroft returned to his position across the table. He wanted so badly to reach out and take the older man's hand or to lean across the table and kiss him but he didn't dare. Too soon, he told himself.

"Welcome," the waiter said as he appeared beside the table, dressed simply in a white button front shirt and black trousers. "What can I get for you today?"

"I'll have a glass of the house wine and my companion will have a draft." He ordered and watched as the waiter disappeared. When he turned back to Lestrade the man was watching him. "What?" He inquired.

"You remember my drink order." The DI replied as he picked up the menu. Mycroft knew it was a stalling method, his former lover always ordered the same thing when they were here, Chicken Parmesan.

"Of course," he said picking up his menu as well for much the same reason as Lestrade. He needed a moment to gather himself now that Lestrade was here. "We've only been separated four months." The words slipped out before he could stop them. He glanced over the top of his menu to see the detective was looking at him.

"Ah, really? It feels longer." Mycroft wasn't exactly sure how to take that but was saved from any reply by the waiter's reappearance with their drinks and to take their orders. Chicken Parmesan for Lestrade and Spaghetti with mushrooms for himself. Silence stretched out between the two men as they both sipped their drinks and observed the people in the restaurant, neither of them looking at each other. Finally Lestrade put his glass down with a thunk and sighed.

"Why did you ask me to meet you here?" The question wasn't said forcefully or with any malice, just a simple inquiry. Mycroft hadn't expected that, he had been prepared to fight with his former lover or beg for his forgiveness. He had not expected such simple acceptable of their situation.

"Because it's been four months and I needed to see you." He replied as he ran his fingers over the stem of his wine glass and swirled the liquid inside back and forth.

"You just saw me a week ago in your office when I came to drop off some reports to Magistrate Crowley."

"For all of two seconds. I was on my way to a meeting with the Prime Minister of Egypt and I was late because my prior meeting had ran over." The words were said in a sharp tone and he instantly regretted them. This was where they had been the last time. Looking across the table at Lestrade he took a deep breath and apologized. "I'm sorry that was rude."

"Yeah, it was." The reply was short and offered nothing. So he was farther into the dog house than he had realized.

"The point is you said you needed time and space and I have given it too you. I guess I just want to know if you think that there is anything left? Did we totally destroy us or can we salvage the wreckage and rebuild?" The words slipped through just as their food was delivered. Lestrade thanked the waiter while Mycroft ignored the man's presence altogether and focused entirely on the DI.

Lestrade picked up his fork and scoped up a pick of chicken from his plate but stopped just short of actually putting it in his mouth. Laying the fork down he turned his gaze up to his ex. No use in pretending.

"I would like to think we're not completely destroyed but..." Lestrade trailed off as he signed and reached for his beer. He took a deep drink. "We weren't any good together, Mycroft. We were destroying each other and it was toxic. I spent so much time just sitting around waiting on you to get home or call or text. You tangled me up and kept me wrapped around your little finger. I wanted this to be good and when we lived apart it was the best but the moment I moved in with you things changed. Mycroft, you made me feel like you were ashamed of me. I told Sally and Anderson and my ex-wife, hell I was even the one who told Sherlock and John! You didn't tell anyone. I can't and won't live as a secret."

The response surprised Mycroft. So this was what had really torn them apart, his aloofness in public. Reaching across the table he took the DI's hand and entwined their fingers. He saw that Lestrade considered pulling away but thankfully he allowed the touch.

"I was never ashamed of you. My God, how could I be, you are the best thing that's ever happened to me. My previous employment placed me in a position where my private life was constantly under scrutiny. I had to be careful of what I did, who I was with and what I said in cause someone should overhear or see and use it against me. I was a very powerful man." He explained as he watched the man he loved.

"Your previous employment?" Lestrade inquired as he stared across the table at him. His hand was gripping Mycroft's tightly. Why would Mycroft leave his position? Did he dare hope it was for him? Could this really be as simple as he had said?

"Yes, I left the employment of the British Government three weeks ago now. I realized that I couldn't be there and still have you." The words came out and Lestrade felt them flow through him, warming him inside. Rising he pulled Mycroft with him. Stepping around the table he took the man into his arms, his man.

"And you want me in your life?" He inquired wanting to hear the words, wanting to know that he hadn't misunderstood him.

"My life, my home, my heart, my bed…I'll take you wherever I can get you dear Inspector." He smiled as Lestrade smiled and leaned forward to touch his lips to the older mans. Several people around the restaurant had stopped their meals and conversation to listen to them and they clapped and offered well wishes as the couple kissed in the middle of the crowded restaurant. Mycroft pulled away first and felt a blush working its way up onto his cheeks. Lestrade gave a full, deep laugh as he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close.

"Why don't we get our meals to go and go back to your place? I have four months of love making to catch up on." The offer was said loud enough that those who bothered to continue listening heard.

"Okay," he said and turned to find the waiter already holding out two white boxes.