Sherlock Imagines {COMPLETED}

Mystrade: Cold hearted lover

Lestrade's POV

I tapped my fingers against the wooden desk; the day was going by slower than I had hoped. My phone's alert sounded and I grabbed the mobile, hoping for it to be Mycroft. It was, but the subject wasn't a particularly good one.

To Greg Lestrade
Sorry love, but something has come up at work so I'll be back late. Don't wait up. See you later.
-Mycroft

I sighed in frustration. It was all well and good having one of the richest men in the world as your boyfriend, but what was the point if you could never spend anytime with them. An hour later my shift officially ended so I trekked sorrowfully back home.

Once inside Mycroft's mansion I sat down in front of the telly and watched lame quiz shows and dramas. It was times like these that made me wonder why Mycroft had chosen me as his lover. Perhaps if he had fallen in love with someone that he worked with the relationship would have been more stable.

Eventually I couldn't stand the depressing loneliness and decided to call him. He had always said that he was never too busy to talk to me, but I was beginning to feel as though this promise wasn't being kept. I scrolled through all of my contacts until I came across the M's. My finger lingered hesitantly over his name for a few minutes before I clicked it. His phone went straight to voicemail so instead I texted him. As I was unsure of what to type my fingers tapped clumsily upon the keys. Finally, I finished my message.

To Mycroft Holmes
Hi, just wondering, do you have an exact time for when you'll be back? Just so I know whether or not to make dinner for you.
-Greg xx

After another half hour the phone gave its all familiar ding and I picked it up. It had to be Mycroft. He always replied to my texts. Sure enough, there was a message from him. I tapped on it to read it.

To Greg Lestrade
I should be home within the next hour or so. Dinner would be lovely, thank you. See you soon.
-Mycroft x

I grinned at his text and walked into the kitchen to start preparing the meal. I had decided on sausages with mash because it was quick and easy to do. I just hoped that Mycroft wouldn't have a problem with it.

An hour later and Mycroft still hadn't arrived. I had eaten my dinner ages ago but his had now gone cold. I glared at the clock which hung opposite me, as if it was to blame for Mycroft being late home. I pulled out my phone and tried to call him again. This time it worked and I was connected almost instantly.

M- Hello? Mycroft Holmes speaking.
G- Hey Myc!
M-Oh, hello Greg.
G-Never mind that, where are you? You said you'd be home about an hour ago.
There a small pause. The silence gnawed at me, making me assume the worst.
M-I know but I couldn't just leave in the middle of work. Anyway, I'm on my way home now.
G-Okay, see you soon. I lov-
He had hung up before I could say goodbye.

Around ten minutes later I heard the front door opening. Whenever he came back late Mycroft would usually get changed and lay next to me in bed. Today however he removed his shoes and walked into his office. I felt tears of anger pricking my eyes. It wasn't fair. I didn't see him all day and he repays me by going and working in his office.

I decided to keep him company so tiptoed down the stairs and gently pushed open the great big wooden door. Mycroft was sat at his filing papers and pulling out new ones from his briefcase. I walked carefully up to him and tapped him the on the shoulder. He seemed to be startled by my sudden appearance. I grinned cheekily at him but he merely scoffed and turned back to his work.

"How was your work?" I asked, trying to make some form of conversation. He shrugged and mumbled something under his breath. I ignored it and went into my next question.
"Oh right, so did yo-"
"GREGORY-" he yelled suddenly "-CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I'M BUSY?!" I was startled by his shouting. Mycroft never shouted. My expression turned cold.
"Yes, too busy to talk to or care about your 'boyfriend'. I understand. I'm not as interesting as your work." I stood up sharply and marched back upstairs. I listened to Mycroft still yelling at me from downstairs. I'd had enough. I got out of the cold bed and reached for a rucksack. I packed my stuff as quietly as I could and shrugged on my coat.

Finally, I turned back to look at the room. To the ordinary person it would like nothing was missing, but Mycroft would hopefully notice the missing clothes. Although perhaps I would lucky enough if he even noticed that I wasn't there. I didn't want to risk leaving by the front or backdoor because Mycroft would hear me. Instead I left via the window. I knew it was safe because a large oak tree grew next to our room. I leant out and grabbed it. Slowly, I climbed down and reached the ground. I stared up at what had once been my home and left. It was going to be a long night.

A/N this was a lot more sad then I had originally intended. Let me know if you want a part 2. Apologies if this seems badly written, I don't have any excuse other then my own sleep pattern
(darn you Sherlock fan fictions!) anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Bai for now- L