Sherlock Oneshots (Mystrade/Johnlock/Mormor)

Mr Holmes? - Johnlock/Mystrade

I saw a tumblr post that said something along these lines.

'Greg, John, Mycroft and Sherlock are all in a room and someone calls out 'Mr Holmes?' and they all respond.'

I thought it was adorable and really funny so I thought I'd write something short, based on that.

3rd Person P.O.V

"What's the verdict, Inspector?" Sherlock asked, sauntering onto a crime scene, his partner trailing behind him.

"Triple homicide," Greg replied, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "All siblings. Both parents are dead, so we can't look there."

"Obviously."

"Obviously. No other siblings, and no other family that lives in London. The eldest died of a GSW to the head. (GSW = Gun Shot Wound.) The two younger ones, twins, both died in their sleep. All on the same night. No neighbours heard the gunshots, and neither did the other siblings presumably. Eldest was 32, younger ones were 29. The time of death for Jean, the eldest, has been estimated between 1 and 1:30 am. Not sure about the other two. Here's the file." Greg handed Sherlock a pretty thin folder. They didn't have much to go on at that point.

That's why they needed Sherlock Holmes and his husband, John Holmes.

Sherlock flipped through the file, letting John read it too. Greg wondered off, talking to Donovan about any new evidence.

Sherlock glanced up from the file, noticing that Greg had walked off. He looked around for him, handing his husband the folder. Sherlock looked sharply to his left, following the distant voice of the DI. He nearly gagged at the sight he saw.

His brother.

At a crime scene.

AKA

Mycroft had 'ruined' Sherlock's favourite thing.

"John!"

"Hm?"

"What's he doing here?!" Sherlock titled his in the direction of his brother, jutting out his bottom lip in annoyance. John couldn't help but chuckle at his husband's childish outburst.

"He's probably here to see Greg."

"What? Why?"

"Because they're-"

"Have you read everything?" Greg asked as he rushed back over to Sherlock and John. Mycroft walked slowly behind Greg, coming to stand just behind him.

"Yes. Thank you, Inspector." Sherlock had taken to calling Greg 'Inspector'. He had only ever gotten his name right once, but that was years ago, after the whole thing with Eurus. He refused to get it wrong anymore, so he just went with 'Inspector' or 'Lestrade'. Little did Sherlock know that he shouldn't be calling him 'Lestrade' anymore.

He didn't know it yet, but he was about to find out.

A man that Mycroft worked with had wandered onto the scene. He was looking for Mycroft, trying to tell him that he left his phone in his office.

"Have you seen Mr Holmes?" He asked Donovan. She looked up from her notepad, a confused look on her face.

"Which one?"

"Mycroft."

"Ah. Just over there." She gestured to the four men, who were all standing about 12 metres away. The man thanked Sally and walked through several puddles, – some water, some blood – with Mycroft's phone in his hand.

"Mr Holmes?"

All four men turned around, each one of them assuming they were the man being called on. Greg swore to himself. Sherlock frowned. John started laughing. Mycroft grumbled something incoherent and trudged over to retrieve his mobile phone.

"Since when are you-?" Sherlock began.

"Don't ask." Greg mumbled.

*

"That's what I tried to tell you earlier." John chuckled as he and Sherlock sat curled up on their couch. "They're married. Have been for a few months. They had a quiet wedding. Greg is a Holmes' too."

"Really?"

"Yes. So, you can't call him Lestrade anymore. You might just have to remember his first name now."

"Impossible."

"Drink ya tea."