Disclaimer: I'm beginning to think that it is impossible that I will ever have a Lestrade of my own. It makes me very sad. My time machine didn't work, by the way. Oh, well. I am nothing if not optimistic and I will not let these setbacks get to me. I will persevere. I will get Lestrade if it's the last thing I ever do. For now though the characters are still not mine and I'm still poor.

A/N: Yes, this is another flashback chapter. Duh. Let me know what you think.

Week Two: The Gobi Desert

"This is a desert?" Gregory asked as he, Mycroft and Anastasia left Jiayuguan, China to head to Dalandzadgad, Mongolia. "It's not even hot and I don't see any sand."

Mycroft shook his head with a small, fond smile for his fiancé. "Yes, Gregory, this is a desert. It's too high in elevation for it to get too hot this time of year. And there is no sand because the winds blow it all away. It's classified as a desert because it gets less than ten inches of rain a year. The Gobi Desert is the fifth largest desert on the planet and the largest in Asia."

Greg regarded the other man over the rim of his travel mug. "You're like a walking, talking travel book," he chuckled. "So why doesn't the desert get any rain?"

"The Himalayas block the clouds and thus the rain from getting to this area," Mycroft answered.

Greg chuckled. "Christ, Myc, is there anything you don't know?" He took a sip of the bitter brew the inhabitants of Jiayuguan laughingly called coffee and made a face.

Mycroft smiled. "Why you are insisting on drinking that disgusting stuff when we have a perfectly good thermos of coffee in the sack. And another one of some very excellent tea."

Greg shrugged and took another sip of the coffee. "Because it's an adventure, Myc. You wanted me to get the full experience and the coffee is part of it."

"I don't know why you are insisting on driving to Dalandzadgad, Mr. H." Anastasia piped up from the back seat. We could just as easily have flown to…somewhere and taken the train. Instead of driving across the desert where there are no roads."

Mycroft gave her a frown over his shoulder and she shrugged sheepishly. "Flown to…somewhere? Really? And we're driving for the adventure of it."

Anastasia held up her BlackBerry with a frown. "No internet access out here. I can't get us directions or call for help if we get lost. It's 675 kilometers Mr. H. are you sure this is a good idea?"

Mycroft and Greg shared a look and then Greg shrugged. "I don't have any problems with going across country. We have a compass; we'll be fine."

"Exactly. Besides if we do get lost we can just ask some of the nomads. I've been told that they love to have visitors." Mycroft agreed. "We can take you back if you wish, Anastasia. We're not that far away from Jiayuguan yet."

Anastasia simply glared at him so he went back to paying attention to the terrain and his driving.

The Gobi Desert had a charm all its own. The sun was just beginning to rise and it glinted off of the frost that had formed overnight. It hung of the low bushes and sent out sparkles when the headlights of the jeep bounced off of them. The sun sent fingers of red and gold and yellow and pink and purple across the sky and land before and behind them.

"Do you think a photograph would capture this amazing beauty?" Greg asked softly after about an hour and a half of riding in silence.

Mycroft slowly pulled to a stop and looked over at the man he had asked to share the rest of his life with. "There's no harm in trying is there?" He turned around and rummaged quietly in the packs they'd brought, finally coming out with the camera he'd bought Gregory on his last birthday. "Have at it, dear," he instructed. "I'll wake Anastasia and then we'll join you. We should stretch our legs anyway."

Greg grinned, took his camera from Mycroft and leapt from the jeep. Mycroft chuckled a bit as Gregory walked toward the sunrise searching for the perfect shot. "Don't go too far, Gregory!" He yelled out the window before turning to wake his assistant.

"I won't," Greg's voice floated back to him. Mycroft chuckled again as Greg jumped over a rock and then dashed out of sight behind a sand dune. Maybe there was something to the local coffee after all.

"Anastasia," he called softly and then shook her shoulder gently. "Anastasia, it's time to wake up."

The dark haired woman's eyes blinked open and she gifted him with one of her rare soft smiles. "Morning My, where's Greg? What time is it? Where are we?"

"Good morning, Anastasia," Mycroft replied. "Gregory is off taking pictures. It's a little after six in the morning and we're about five hundred kilometers from Dalandzadgad."

Anastasia gripped her BlackBerry, sat up straight and opened her door. "We'd best go retrieve him before he runs afoul of a camel or something."

"A camel? Seriously, Gregory isn't that stupid." But Mycroft followed his assistant out of the jeep and pointed out the way Greg had disappeared.

Anastasia grinned at him impishly. "I don't know, sir, he did agree to marry you. That makes him either masochistic or stupid." She giggled at his fierce glare and ran around the sand dune.

Mycroft followed her at a more sedate pace but stopped abruptly as he rounded the dune and nearly plowed into her. "Anastasia?"

"Shh!" She shushed him. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to stand beside her. "What do we do?" Her voice sounded scared.

Mycroft stared down the small hill in shock. Gregory was kneeling beside a small girl and there were at least a dozen nomads with spears and guns pointing at him. Gregory was scowling up at the spears and running a damp handkerchief over the girl's forehead. Even from this distance Mycroft could see the bruises on the girl's face.

"Mycroft!" Anastasia hissed and shook his arm. "My, what do we do? They're going to kill him."

Mycroft steeled his resolve and stepped forward. He would not let some nomadic tribe murder the man he loved. He intended to spend the rest of his life with Gregory and die in his arms as a very old man. "Excuse me?" He called out in his rusty Mongolian.

Three of the men spun around and glared up at him. They yelled in a language that he could only make out a few words of. He tried to listen harder to comprehend what they were saying but they were all talking at the same time and Gregory's concerned brown eyes caught his.

"Mycroft," Gregory breathed out. Mycroft couldn't hear the word but he knew what Gregory had said. Then Gregory took a deep breath and called out to him. "Myc, have Anastasia get the first aid kit from the jeep. This girl is badly hurt but I think she'll be okay if I can get some of these cuts bandaged."

Mycroft motioned Anastasia back to the jeep to follow Gregory's orders and then slowly, cautiously took another step forward. "We are trying to help," he called out in the six dialects of Chinese that he knew.

The men muttered between themselves and one shoved his spear in Gregory's face. Gregory scowled at them again. One of the men stepped towards Mycroft. His own Chinese was broken but understandable. "He hurt chief's daughter. He die."

"No," Mycroft denied. "My friend found the girl. He's trying to help." He pointed at where Gregory was still smoothing his handkerchief over the girl's face. "You see? He used his water to wash her face and try to wake her."

The man that had thrust his spear in Gregory's face looked down at the pair at his feet. He grinned suddenly and called something to his companions. Then he set his spear on the ground and patted Gregory on the head while babbling.

Mycroft relaxed slightly. "My assistant has gone to fetch medical supplies," he informed the man in the front. "We should be able to help her."

As the words left his mouth Anastasia scrambled back around the dune with the first aid kit under her arm. "I have the kit!" She called out unnecessarily. Ignoring the men she boldly walked past them and knelt by Gregory and the girl. "We can't leave you alone for a minute," she muttered at him.

MH/GL MH/GL MH/GL

"Boring!" Sherlock declared loudly. "Lestrade wasn't ever really in any danger and you weren't captured or nearly killed. Boring."

"That wasn't the almost killed part," Mycroft said patiently. "After Artiebiba and Gregory bandaged up the girl they insisted on taking us back to their…village. They offered us a guide to Dalandzadgad and shelter for the night."

"But it wasn't even seven in the morning yet," Greg protested.

"No, but it was nearly four before we got the girl back to the village. It was a very good thing I'd planned an extra few days into our travel time. Anyway, the nomads make the most vile and alcoholic rice wine I've ever tasted. That stuff is toxic. I think they were trying to kill us with poison."

Greg snickered at Mycroft's aggrieved tone. "Got any more stories, Myc?" He asked and closed his eyes again.

Mycroft glared lightly at his brother and then nodded. "I'll tell you about the time you and John planned a double date for us," he decided.

"No!" Sherlock protested. "That's a horrible story!"

"Only because you nearly got us all arrested and I made you sleep in the parlour for a week for being an absolute arse," John pointed out.

Greg grinned. "Oh I have to hear this one now."