Minor spoiler to The Sign of Three


January 5: I need Lestrade being sad at the wedding, leaving the wedding, and admiring Mycroft's stomach.

Greg looked around awkwardly, as the dance floor started to fill up with couples. He hadn't danced in years, not that anyone would ask him anyway. All the people he knew, recognised at least, were busy with their own partners and even that old lady always bringing him tea on 221b managed to find herself someone.

When someone stepped on his shoe and then immediately disappeared, leaving behind only a barely audible sorry!, Lestrade decided it was his time to leave the reception.

He pushed his way through the crowd to the door, with one hand already looking for a pack of cigarettes. When finally outside, he pulled one out, lit and blissfully let out a cloud of smoke, looking up to the sky. Too early to go home, too late to wander around.

Greg smiled, when the idea hit him, forgetting about the fag for a moment and fishing out his mobile. He quickly dialed the number and raised it to his ear, another portion of smoke floating up from his lips.

"Gregory?"

The detective smirked triumphantly when he heard the surprised voice on the other end of the line. It wasn't that often he got to really surprise the man.

"Evenin'. Got a car to spare?"

"I thought you were attending the reception tonight."

"Yeah, exactly" He stopped to let out a small cough and finished his cigarette, before dropping it to the ground and smashing with his shoe. "I was. Now I'd appreciate if you helped me out of here."

"If you insist."

Greg was almost sure he felt a hint of smile in the answer. Mycroft didn't need the address given to him, obviously, so he just hang up and walked away from the building in the direction of the road.

The car ride was calm and extremely quiet, contrary to the party Lestrade was just leaving behind. Neither he or the driver said a word, the latter politely ignoring cop's struggle to check if his breath smelled of alcohol. He had had quite a lot of that today, though fortunately not enough to get drunk properly.

On the place, before Greg even reached out to knock on the door, they swung open and a person in a three-piece suit appeared. The man rushed inside and soon enough was welcomed with a tender, almost shy kiss placed on his lips. Greg grinned in answer, shrugging off his jacket.

"What do I owe the visit?" Mycroft asked, taking a step back and regarding the other.

Lestrade took the occasion to take in whole politician's silhouette, the suit seemed to be more… loose? in places. But Greg was sure he knew that one. Even Mycroft's best tailor couldn't have done both identical suits. He tore his eyes away after a moment and glanced up at the other man's face.

"Started to feel a bit lonely. Weren't you going to be there? John said you had got the invitation."

"Oh, some… matters" the politician shrugged casually, smoothing down his waistcoat "kept me busy, and I'm afraid it's not in good manners to appear late, so I decided to stay at home."

"What matters?" Greg tilted his head. Usually Mycroft was not allowed to tell, but maybe this time he'd get to know something. "Sherlock said you were a bit… out of breath when he called." He added, moving forward in the direction he thought the kitchen was.

Surprisingly, the other man barricaded his way and blocked the entrance to the room, his hand reaching behind for the knob to shut the door.

The detective frowned, standing on his toes and trying to see anything over Mycroft's shoulder before the door were closed. He frowned further and glared up. "What are you hiding in there?"

"Nothing, Gregory" Mycroft pulled on a slight smile, which Greg found suspiciously nervous.

"Who are you hiding in there?"

The politician sighed and shook his head. "No one, Gregory. The room is empty."

"Lemme see it, then."

"Perhaps the other time." Mycroft insisted, taking a step forward to manoeuvre the other man away from the accurst door.

Lestrade didn't seem like giving up though, and a moment later got behind Mycroft's back, pressing the knob.

He blinked confused. He had expected to see someone or something…. something. Something suspicious, something top secret, something important, for God's sake. But there, in front of him, appeared a casual fitness equipment. His eyes roamed over the devices for a moment, before they came back to Mycroft, who was now standing beside with a plain expression on his face.

Greg once more glanced down to the more loose part of fabric around Mycroft's belly and let his lips froze in an oh expression.

"You solved the case of the mysterious room, congratulations, Detective Inspector" The politician said a bit stiffly and leaned forward to close the door again.

"So that's what you were doin'" Greg nodded to himself, his interest far away from the room now and much closer the man that owned it. A smile slowly appeared on his face, when his hands reached out and grabbed the lapels of Mycroft's suit to pull him closer. "Lemme see the results" He whispered into the other man's lips.


Cheated a bit, as you can see, first - the original prompt required using a first sentence from a book and I have really small amount of book in English therefore I couldn't find anything which would do; second - there's no reason to keep you waiting, especially as I promised quite a lot last time, so I'll update the previous and next chapter tomorrow, hopefully :3

Thanks for reading! *whispers* leave an opinion *whispers*