Sherlock | Crappy Fanfics

Mystrade - How it Happened (ish)

The thing was, it was usually quite difficult to keep a secret from Sherlock Holmes. Any other person, and a relationship would be relatively easy to hide. But it wasn't any other person. It was Sherlock, and neither Mycroft nor Greg were willing to discover the consequences of him finally finding out about their relationship.

It had started, initially, with a very haggard Lestrade bursting into Speedy's Café after a very heated discussion with Sherlock as to why he couldn't storm into the morgue and tell a grieving widow that her "deceased husband didn't love her."

The result had found a very confused Sherlock trying to comfort a very sad woman.

Lestrade's debate with Sherlock had left him in desperate need of a coffee, and the best place for that was conveniently under the detective's flat. Which was how he found himself tapping his own detective badge off of the counter as he waited for his drink. What he hadn't expected however was that Mycroft was also in the café, and looking extremely anxious.

Paying for his drink, Lestrade underwent a mental argument in an attempt to decide where to sit. Mycroft was sitting in a small little booth towards the back of the café, head in his hands and neglecting a large slice of chocolate cake. Eventually, he decided to take the seat opposite.

"D'you mind if I-?" Lestrade started, but Mycroft cut him short.

"Not at all," he stated, lifting his head up and gesturing to the seat. Lestrade sidled into it quietly, mug of coffee between his hands.

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Mycroft started talking again.

"You've just spoken to Sherlock, I trust?" Mycroft asked, picking at a piece of chocolate decoration. Lestrade nodded.

"Yeah... He's not happy, if that's where you're going." He took a sip of his coffee, watching Mycroft thoughtfully.

"I was hoping he'd be in a good mood..." Mycroft side. He seemed deflated, and Lestrade frowned in concern. Although he'd never really gotten the opportunity to talk to him, it didn't take a genius to work out when he was troubled.

"What do you need to talk to him about?" Lestrade prompted, leaning towards Mycroft slightly over his mug.

"Our Grandmother passed away last night. Sherlock was quite fond of her."

He'd picked up the spoon by this point, using it to tear a bit of cake off and eating it slowly. Lestrade had never seen someone look so thoughtful over a spoonful of cake.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, staring down at the potent black liquid. Who knew that talking to Mycroft for the first time would be under such depressing circumstances? "How do you feel about it?"

"Well quite frankly I think that Sherlock's going to-"

"No," Lestrade interrupted quickly. "Not Sherlock. How do you feel about it? About your nan?"

Mycroft looked up slowly.

"How do I feel?" He queried, and Lestrade immediately decided that he'd obtained an achievement in confusing him. How many people could say that they'd managed to confuse Mycroft Holmes? He nodded earnestly.

"I'm fine. Now excuse me," Mycroft started, pushing his cake to the side and standing up. "I have a brother to deal with."

Lestrade shook his head. "No, you don't."

Mycroft raised his eyebrow. "I think you'll find that I do." But again, Lestrade shook his head.

"You can leave it a bit." He suggested. "Come down the pub with me and take your mind off your nan and Sherlock."

Lestrade stood up too now, abandoning his coffee and gesturing for Mycroft to slide out of his seat. "You look like you need a drink," he added as an after thought, as though it would help.

To his complete astonishment, Mycroft nodded, and the two of them left Speedy's together.

They've been going out for a year and a half now, and Sherlock's none the wiser.

So... How're you finding these? Alright? Complete bull? Anyway... If you have any suggestions please let me know. Thank you! - Natalie