Do me a favour. Just stay calm okay?

Chapter 9

"Well now isn't this a sight?" Lestrade asked, laughing as Stone collapsed onto the deck as John started the engine again, taking them away from the sinking Government boat. Stone glared at the DI as the boat cut through the water.

Five minutes earlier, they had thrown a rope up to Stone, who tied it to the burning craft and shimmied and slid his way over to their vessel, landing like a sack of potatoes on the deck, before being unceremoniously dragged up to the bridge, where an amused doctor stood, watching Stone through cold eyes.

John slowed the craft down and shut the engine off, getting inkling that if he put it on autopilot it would continue with its wild course that he believed was related to the open panel in the hold that was below them. John turned around to face Stone to see that he hadn't moved off the floor, and the others hadn't bothered to help the still smoking man up. John sighed and felt a little irritated at his infallible conscience. He moved forward and offered his hand to the man,

'Would you like a seat?" John asked, the usual warmth his voice held barely there. Stone looked at the hand before taking it.

The early morning sun shone brightly off the water as the sky turned from pink into blue and Blood gold bobbed up and down in the calm waters. Below the depths, marine life was waking, as the sun penetrated the watery depths, slowly lighting the ocean floor below. Up above the water, Stone took John's hand and settled himself into the seat. The others moved so that they were standing around Stone, sending of more than an unwelcoming vibe,

'What were you doing out here?" Scout asked, his voice the epitome of calm but his blue eyes burning so brightly Sally was amazed that the director wasn't on fire for the second time,

"I was planning on checking up on you," Stone said, his tone sullen as he looked from one face to another, 'What I was not suspecting was sabotage," John exchanged a glance with Sherlock who gave a tiny, imperceptible nod, 'listen,' it seemed to say, so John settled back folding his arms across his chest, the uniform sticking to his form. He moved uncomfortably. He had been so much skinnier when he had come back home. Now the uniform was incredibly tight and it irked him He pushed thoughts of clothes to the back of his mind and focused on the director.

'Speak," Lestrade said and Stone sighed, not entirely sure why he was taking orders from people who were so far below him on the hierarchy it was like the prince and the pauper, but nonetheless, he started his story,

"I was going to follow you, and watch your mission," he said, and Scout's eyes darkened,

'Why the hell did you need to do that?" he asked the anger pretty apparent,

"Because," Stone tried to maintain as least some dignity. It was bad enough that he had got one of the most expensive boats in the SIS sunk, now he was being told off by someone who could be his son. "The home secretary asked me to," he said. Sally had to remind herself that she was a composed officer of the law and screaming and jumping around like an eleven year old girl would do nothing for her image.

Meanwhile, the words shocked Lestrade out of the fog that he had been in, moving on autopilot while his mind still seethed with thoughts of his wife. He focused all of his attention on the director now, knowing that this was news indeed.

Sherlock was as still as ever. He had a feeling Mycroft had interfered again. Damn the man. Could he never leave him alone? For the love of god he was a grown man and Mycroft still insisted on treating him like they were twelve and as if Sherlock couldn't make his own decisions.

John showed his surprise by raising an eyebrow. He looked at Stone curiously, "Really?" he asked,

"Yes really," Stone snapped, his brow furrowing. John hurriedly held his hands up in surrender,

"Just asking," the doctor cocked his head to the side, 'Go on, then," he prompted. Stone heaved a sighed before picking up his story,

"Well, I was doing as I was asked, when I got a call. Thinking it was the secretary again, I answered without looking at the caller id. I asked who it was and received no answer. Then, before I could do anything, the boat went out of control. I dropped the phone and tried to get it back in control, but it just continued without my help,

"Sounds like what happened to us," Scout said and John laughed,

"No, I know what happened to us," the doctor glanced at Sherlock who met his gaze. John looked away, his heart hammering against his rib cage. Looking at Sherlock was definitely not a good idea. Too distracting.

Focusing back on the conversation, John listened in growing worry, "The wheel turned on it's own, but it wasn't random. It had a destination, and as I tried to warn you that I was approaching at a breakneck speed, communication shut down,"

"Which is why you didn't reply to our attempts at communication," John said, piecing everything together in his mind.

"Exactly,' Stone grimaced,

"I watched as you got closer, saw, as you loaded the fireworks," he shook his head at that, staring at Sherlock suspiciously, "and whenever you tried to outrun us, the boats hidden attack features came into play." He looked up at all them, from John to Scout, Lestrade to Sally and finally settled on Sherlock, "It wasn't my intention to do that to you,"

"What was controlling the boat?" Lestrade asked, 'It's not exactly a toy. You'd need a ridiculously powerful signal,"

"They can get that," John said, nodding slowly, and he looked at Sherlock, who took over,

"All they'd need was something to transfer the signal," Sally and Lestrade came to the same conclusion at the same time,

'The mobile," the chorused and John nodded solemnly.

'But…" Scout glanced at John before looking back at Stone, "Why didn't you just shut the phone off?" he asked. Stone's face flushed with embarrassment as he realized his rookie mistake.

'Because he didn't know," Sherlock answered cheekily, looking irresistibly like a kid in a candy shop. John watched with amusement as Stone turned an even deeper shade of red and Lestrade's deep laugh echoed around the room. John was glad to hear it, and caught the DI's eye. He grinned wide, the mask he put up for Stone's benefit dissolving, and Lestrade's heart skipped a beat. Must be excitement of today.

"I did know," Stone muttered angrily and John laughed,

"Sure," he said, as Scout walked around the chair to stand next to John, 'We'd better had back to land," he said, "This mission will have to wait," he turned the engine on and John felt the vibrations of the engine travel up his body and found he was going to miss that feeling, and the power that came with driving the boat as the advanced craft glided over the water.

"Now we know how the boat was sabotaged," Sally said, taking the co-captains seat, "we need to figure out who sabotaged it," as she continued talking, Lestrade turned around and slipped out of the room, unnoticed by the others. The wind whipped around him as the boat gathered speed and he walked down the flight of stairs leading to the lower deck, the water slipping away underneath them, the blue changing colour as the depth changed.

Sighing as the salty spray hit him, he closed his eye, gripping the railing, breathing in the fresh sea air. He didn't want to think about why his heart skipped when John smiled. He opened his eyes. Suddenly, he found that he didn't want to think any more. Thinking brought memories of Julianne. Thinking brought thoughts about how they had wanted to start a family. Thinking meant that he would never get past this.

The sun hit him full on as the boat smoothly changed course and he squinted, relishing the warmth that the sun brought, the sky clear above him. He watched as seagulls swooped in and out of the sun, their forms mere shadows against the sun. "I have to stop thinking," he muttered to himself, watching the birds, "I have to stop,"

He stayed where he was as the birds continued on their erratic journey across the skies.

They were an hour away from land, when something that turned everything on its head happened. Everyone was on the bridge, except Lestrade and John. Lestrade had told the other he wanted some sleep, and they let him go. John had decided he wanted some fresh air. The doctor climbed down to the deck, his solid boots thudding on the polished boards. He shifted around uncomfortably again as he noted how ridiculously tight this shirt was – especially across his back. Shaking his head at the way the military could be so precise about landings on far off shores, and yet couldn't get the right measurements for their soldier's clothes. He almost laughed at the thought as he continued on down to the back of the boat.

Like Lestrade had done not long before, John grasped the rail and stared out at the water, watching the white swirls that the powerful propellers were creating in the water below them. He stretched his muscles and moaned a little at the feeling it gave him.

Unknown to the doctor, Lestrade had given up on getting any sleep and had come up on the decks – to catch sight of the major, his too tight clothes stretched around an alluring figure.

Lestrade felt his belly drop and his eyes widen as he watched the doctor stretching, those hands, hands that had operated on countless people and hands that were no doubt as soft to the touch as a baby's bottom, clasping the rail tightly, highlighting the well-defined muscles in the doctor's arms. The sun seemed to form a ring around the major. It was behind them as they travelled and Lestrade knew it would take something equivalent to Hiroshima to make him move now. He watched as John's lips parted slightly, as he stretched backwards. Watched as his eyelids fluttered closed, hiding away the brown eyes he loved wait…loved?

This thought wrenched Lestrade from his thoughts and brought him back to reality. Back to the fact that his breathing was erratic. Back to the fact that he was feeling considerably light headed and back to the fact that his wife had died not even three days ago, and he was eyeing up another person. No wait – another man.

Horrified, Lestrade turned and half fell, half sprinted his way back to their sleeping quarters. He sat on his bunk with trembling legs, his mind reeling. What was happening to him? What the hell was going on here? His head snapped up as a shout of laughter echoed from the decks and he was sure he heard Sherlock's baritone. Because John belonged to Sherlock and there was absolutely nothing that could separate them. More laughter reached his ears and he was sure John told Sherlock to 'bugger off, I'm stretching' there was silence followed by a groan that threatened to tip Lestrade over the edge of sanity that he was so carefully walking a tightrope on – without a safety net.

"That's exactly why I can't bugger off,' Sherlock's reply echoed down the stairwell, all too loud for Lestrade. He could take this anymore.

He ran to bathroom and emptied his insides into the toilet, retching as if it would somehow erase the feelings that took hold of his body and mind a minute ago. Shaking, trembling, Lestrade slumped against the floor. Too many emotions. Too many thoughts. His world was spinning, and there was nothing he could do about it. Oh god he felt tears slide down his cheeks and he knew that there was no one here to comfort him and – dear god, he was going to hell for this – there was only one person he wanted comfort from. One major in particular.

Lestrade could feel consciousness slipping away from him and let it happen. He wished he could just disappear. Melt into the cracks in the tile and just vanish. At least then life would be easier.

Okay. Calm down. I just wanted some drama, and Lestrade was the perfect provider of such. :D

Right. Now. Who wants to kill me? Well, you can't. I stayed up until 2:45 am yesterday because of stupid school assignment. Therefore, I am too buggered to be killed any further. Oh, and if you kill me, there'll be no more story.

;P

Aza

xoxo