Chapter Eleven

Lestrade was getting quite good at solving crosswords. It was an innocent observation he noticed one morning when Mycroft had been called out on an early morning emergency and couldn't keep him company during breakfast.

7 across, act of killing one's brother. Lestrade mused thoughtfully for a moment. Fratricide. He rolled his eyes. Of course. A word like that tends to stick when you associate yourself with the Holmes siblings.

He neatly filled in the little boxes. Before the shooting, Lestrade could've attested that he could only finish about half the daily crosswords before handing it off to Donovan in favor of writing a report. Reports were simple and easy to accomplish.

And speaking of Donovan... Lestrade fished out his phone from his pocket to call the woman. "Well! If it isn't my favorite governor!" Sally's voice resonated from the other end, cheerful, but slightly stressed-out.

"Writing a report I take it?" Lestrade smirked.

"Got it in one." Donovan chuckled wryly.

"Perfect timing, then!" Lestrade smiled. "How are things over there?"

"Good, bordering on terrible." Donovan said in a tone that indicated that she was shrugging her shoulders.

"What does that even mean?" Lestrade asked, furrowing his eyebrows at the strange answer.

"Good, as in, no Freak and no pile on bodies on our doorstep. Terrible, as in, there's a new DI filling in for you. Some DI Dimmock is in temporarily and he's driving me insane." Donovan sighed in exasperation.

"Sorry to hear that." Lestrade chuckled a little at her plight.

"How's it on your end?" Donovan asked after a brief pause. "Are you alright?" It took Lestrade a moment to remember that Donovan had been trusted with the task of securing his office when it had been broken in. He knew Donovan had suspicions of foul play. At least she hadn't heard of the break-in at his home.

"Well, bit good, some bad." Lestrade responded, mimicking her previous answer to his questioning.

Donovan giggled a little. "Alright, I'll bite. What does that mean?"

"Um, bit good as in, I'm healing well... and I've gotten the chance to watch Doctor Who." Donovan laughed. "And 'some bad' means I'll be able to come back to work by the weekend." He tried to sound as grim as possible. He failed spectacularly.

"You're kidding!" Donovan gasped. "Already? That's great!"

Lestrade laughed. "Yeah, so get that annoying Dimmock out of my office and clean it out a bit, why don't you?"

"Already on it, boss." Donovan chuckled, it sounded positively evil. "See you soon." Click. Donovan must've been waiting forever to throw the new governor out.

Lestrade just chuckled and shook his head.

"I hear you're returning to work." Mycroft remarked over dinner that evening. "Congratulations."

"Thanks." Lestrade smiled at him brightly. "Can't wait."

Mycroft merely looked at him, amused, and shook his head. "I hope your excitement doesn't keep you up all night."

"You will, if it doesn't." Lestrade grinned before he even realized what he said.

"And, what does that mean, I wonder?" Mycroft inquired, raising an eyebrow. Lestrade blinked blankly, then he finally realized what he let slip.

He grew a few shades paler. "No-.. I-... uh..." He floundered.

"Now, now, Lestrade. Don't be shy." Mycroft goaded him.

"Well-..." Lestrade threw his hands up in surrender. "You snore." He grimaced, blushing a little in embarrassment.

"I snore?" How could Mycroft say such a thing with such polite curiosity?

"Yeah, like, really-..." Lestrade paused before continuing, waving his arms for more emphasis. "... really loudly."

Mycroft's other eyebrow raised to its companion's level. "I snore very loudly." Any more clarification, Lestrade?

Apparently, yes. "Like-..." Lestrade grimaced again uncomfortably. "Like rattling-the-window-panes kind of loud."

Mycroft smirked and looked like he was having a hard time trying not to laugh. "Anything else you would like to speak up about, Lestrade?"

There was silence for a moment before Lestrade shook his head, red as a beet. "No, I think that's it." He grimaced. "I'm just digging a hole for myself, arn't I?"

Mycroft chuckled. "You're very good at it too." At Lestrade's pained look. "No offence taken, though. It's quite refreshing, your honesty, really." Lestrade dropped his face into his hands and groaned.

"You're having fun with this, arn't you?" An astute observation.

"I don't usually enjoy my shortcomings being brought to light, but in this case, I'm sure I can make an exception." Lestrade gave a humorless chuckle. "In fact, I do believe you embarrassed yourself, in telling, more than you embarrassed me."

"Anything you want to warn me about?" Lestrade asked, getting up and pouring them both glasses of cheap wine. Mycroft sent him a calculating look. "Come on, it's only fair."

Mycroft leaned his elbows on the table and entwined his fingers. "You," he began with feigned solemnity. "are quite a peculiar character."

Lestrade rolled his eyes wryly. "Aw, thanks mate!" Mycroft chuckled at him.

"You dog-ear my books." Mycroft continued. "All of them that have been offered, anyway. You're an exceptionally fast reader."

"I took speed reading courses in Uni." Lestrade chuckled. "Comes in handy with my career."

"And, speaking about your career, when are you getting back on official duty?" Mycroft questioned casually.

"Weekend." Lestrade responded, taking a sip of his wine. "And not too soon, either, Donovan sounded like she was pretty close to committing premeditated murder."

Mycroft snorted. "Oh, God forbid."

"I can only hope that I'm not too late." Lestrade shook his head mock-woefully.

"Of course." Mycroft lifted his wine glass at that. "Cheers."