Watching You Fall: Chapter 2

You: John limped up the stairs to the flat, trailed by Lestrade. The DI knew this was going to be one of the more difficult parts of dealing with Sherlock's death. "You didn't have to come," John said quietly. "I could have come on my own."

Stranger: "I'm not leaving you to deal with the pain by yourself..." Lestrade said slowly, placing a hand on John's shoulder.

You: "Thanks," John said, nodding. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Sights and smells assaulted him, memories crowding his mind.

Stranger: Lestrade watched John for any signs of pain. He was worried from all the memories he knew this place was sure to be crowed with.

You: John looked around the living room, idly noting that Sherlock's dressing gown was still draped over the back of the couch. The violin sat on his armchair, the bow lying lengthwise across the seat. He glanced into the kitchen and saw the remains of Sherlock's last experiment with severed fingers. A choking, sobbing laugh clawed its way out of John's throat

Stranger: "John?" Lestrade asked carefully, watching John sway a little on his feet.

You: "He's still here," John whispered, his knees giving way. "The sense of him, the energy, its all still here."

Stranger: "John..." Lestrade bent down next to him, grabbing him so he wouldn't fall farther. "It's ok, we can leave if you want to..."

You: John clung to Lestrade's arm, tears clouding his eyes. "No...," he moaned. "Can't... leave him. What's the point without him?"

Stranger: "John, don't talk like that..." Lestrade said, clinging onto him tighter. "Sherlock would want you to go on..."

You: "Yeah, I know," John replied. "I'm not... getting rid of any of his stuff. If... if this is all a nightmare... or a mistake.... he'd hate to come back and see everything gone."

Stranger: "He's not coming back John..." Lestrade said sadly. "It's impossible..."

You: "-He's- impossible," John asserted. "If anyone could, he could. And it's my flat now."

Stranger: "Then keep his stuff, John... Just don't... bring your hopes up..." Lestrade finished lamely.

You: "Thanks," John said, swiping a hand across his eyes. "I think I'm ok now. You don't need to stay with me."

Stranger: "How about we go to dinner? Or I go grab us something? I don't want to leave you alone just yet, John... I'm worried..."

You: John nodded absently, looking around the flat again. He was trying to absorb as much of Sherlock's presence as he could before it inevitably faded. He looked at the door to the detective's bedroom and decided to wait. He couldn't face that, not yet.

Stranger: "Want to come? Or do you want me to pick us something up?" The DI asked, watching John from the doorway.

You: "Whatever you want," John replied. He wandered into the kitchen and stared at the experiment, remembering the argument he had had with Sherlock over it

Stranger: "I'll go pick something up. Chinese?"

You: "Ok," John replied. He really couldn't care less at the moment. He wasn't even really hungry

Stranger: "I'll be back in about ten minutes then... Call me if you need anything..." The DI called, opening the door. "Stay out of trouble, okay?"

You: "Right," John called, nudging a burned finger. -Sherlock, what are you doing?.... Experiment John. Need to see how fast flesh burns. ..... On our table?- The argument rolled through his mind and John smiled bitterly at the memory of Sherlock's voice

Stranger: The door shut behind the DI, leaving the flat dead quiet.

You: John walked back into the living room and settled into his armchair. He stared at the skull on the mantel. "Alone again," he murmured to it. "Guess you're mine now, too, huh?"

Stranger: Lestrade checked his phone while he was waiting at a red light. He had an uneasy ping in his gut that John was going to do something stupid to try to ease the pain. Why wouldn't this light hurry up..?

You: John continued talking to the skull, his mind running through all the things of Sherlock's that were now his. Suddenly, his thoughts alighted on one thing that might make this more bearable. Rising quickly, John searched underneath the skull to find Sherlock's secret stash of cocaine and needles. Should he?

You: John fidgeted with the needles, trying to decide if this was something he really wanted to do. He'd never tried drugs before though he was very familiar with what they did to the body. A glance at the blue dressing gown decided him as a fresh wave of pain rippled over him. Sticking the needle into the bottle, he pulled what he thought was a good amount from the cloudy liquid and injected it quickly into his arm.

Stranger: Lestrade had the dinner in the seat next to him and parked his car right outside the flat. He sat back for a moment and sighed, looking sideways at the door labled 221B. The street seemed too empty knowing there was no Sherlock up there, shooting holes in the wall or feverishly working on a case. It killed him inside, but he had to stay strong for John's sake. He groaned as he got out of the car and collected the dinner.

You: John's head fell back against his armchair and the needle slipped from his fingers to land on the carpet. A warm flush crept across his body and he felt like he was flying

Stranger: Lestrade took a couple minutes to balance the containers in one hand, going up and knocking on the locked door.

You: Ignoring the knock, John mumbled something unintelligible at the skull and giggled in a high pitched voice. His fingers danced in the air in uncontrolled, jerky movements.

Stranger: The door finally opened as Mrs. Hudson opened it. "Hello dear," She said stepping back. "Hi Mrs. Hudson." Lestrade said back with a forced smile as he started up the stairs.

You: "Take care of him," she said forlornly at Lestrade's back. "He needs a friend right now."

Stranger: "I will, not to worry." Lestrade called back down the stairs as he reached the unlocked flat door. He tryied to balance the containers in one hand again.

You: John felt the flush deepen almost to a burn on his skin and a rainbow of colors flooded his vision. His mouth suddenly went dry as the colors speared into his eyes

Stranger: "John?!" Lestrade had opened the doors to see John, head back, eyes closing, in his chair. He droped the food and rushed over to him, picking up the needle. "God no... God no..." Lestrade whispered despretly, looking John over carefully.

You: " 'Lo," John mumbled at Lestrade, trying to grin at the DI. The colors had finally stopped attacking him and now were dancing a waltz at the corners of his vision

Stranger: "God... John.... I'm calling help... You overdosed... I can tell... God damn it, Joh, -this- is what I meant by stupid!" Lestrade pulled out his phone and quickly dialed 999.

You: John shrugged and giggled, his eyes drawn back up to the skull. The jaw was flapping slowly up and down and he stared at it, trying to understand what the skull was saying

Stranger: "221B Baker Street. Please, hurry! My friend has overdosed." Lestrade said, panic filling him. He closed the phone and grabbed John's hand. "God John... Not you too... You're not leaving me too!"

You: "Not going anywhere," John singsonged, fully in the grip of the drugs. "Just flying in my armchair, dancing with the colors."

Stranger: "God, you bloody idiot!" Lestrade yelled. "What in bloody hell were you thinking?!"

You: John shrugged again and grinned, his eyes flicking around the room. His fingers continued to move jerkily, not able to stop moving

Stranger: Lestrade could hear sirrens in the distance and looked back at John, who's eyes were closing. "No!" Lestrade yelled, slapping John just enough across the face. "You're not falling asleep! You're not dying on me!"

You: "Tired," John mumbled, his eyes feeling heavily weighted. He let them close and drifted, his mind conjuring random landscape scenes

Stranger: "No you're not!" Lestrade paniced again and slapped him, harder, across the face. "You bloody idiot! Stay awake!"

You: John grimaced at the flashes of pain across his face and opened his eyes to see a panicked Lestrade staring down at him. The sound of sirens flared in his ears and John felt tears prickle his eyes.

Stranger: "You're going to be fine, John. Just don't. Fall. Asleep."

You: "So tired, Greg," John said again. "What is going on? Why are there sirens?"

Stranger: "You bloody overdosed! I need to get you to a hospital... I'm not loosing you too, John... I'm not..." Lestrade broke down a little, tears threatening to overtake him.

You: "Oh," John replied in a small voice. "I... didn't mean to. Wanted to get rid of the pain."

Stranger: "I know..." Lestrade felt the tears claiming him. "Don't worry.... you're... you're going to be... just fine..."

You: "Ok," John answered. The high from the cocaine was wearing off and now he just felt scared and vulnerable and very, very cold. "Freezing, isn't it?"

Stranger: "No..." Lestrade started to panic. this was never a good sign.

Stranger: Sherlock stood outside the flat he knew John was in. He looked up at the window sadly. A leap of panic hit him as he saw the sirens he heard in the distance pull up to the flat and paramedics went running up to the flat. John's flat.

You: John and Lestrade both stared at the paramedics as they burst in the door. The DI was gently but firmly shoved away and they went to work on John, trying to save him from the drug he had injected into himself.

Stranger: Sherlock stood there paralized, knowing he couldn't run to help John. He stood there, staring at the door the paramedics had rushed into to. His heart was pounding heavily against his chest.

You: John saw blackness creeping in on his vision and he tried to focus on the paramedic's questions. He knew he mumbled things, but the answers made no sense to his addled mind. A pinprick in his arm was the last thing he felt before the dark claimed him

Stranger: Sherlock gasped as he saw a motionless John on the strecher, being rushed to the truck. Lestrade followed them out and jumped in his car to go to the hospital with them. "What happened?!" Sherlock grabbed a parametic rushing behind the rest. "Overdose" was all the paramedic called out before jumping in the car and driving, sirens blarring, quickly down the street to the hospitial. Sherlock turned and ran back to Molly's.

You: Lestrade raced after the ambulance, worry making him grip the wheel until his knuckles were white. He parked frantically, not even noticing he had taken a doctor's slot, and ran inside. He barked questions at the nearest nurse and was directed to sit outside the room the doctor's had John in

Stranger: Sherlock burst into Molly's flat, calling to her to get Mycroft on the phone as he stubbled around to find her. He had to know John was ok.

You: Several minutes later, a tired-looking doctor walked out of John's room and up to Lestrade. "Is he alive?" the DI asked quietly

Stranger: "We just got him here in time... He's alive, but not awake. You may visit, just don't bother him too much, he's going to have a massive headache.

Stranger: "

You: "Thank you," Lestrade said before pulling himself to his feet. He walked into John's room and was shocked at how pale the doctor was. He sat down in the chair next to the bed and spent the next few minutes telling John how much of an idiot he was and that he needed to live through this.

Stranger: Sherlock grabbed the ringing phone from Molly. It rang three times before Mycroft picked up.

You: "What is it, Molly?" Mycroft asked disinterestedly through the speaker

Stranger: "Mycroft, John's in the hospital! Please, go check up on him. Text me. Tell me he's ok! Please..." Sherlock said in a panic, his heart still racing.

You: "He's in the hospital? Why? What happened?" Mycroft asked, his tone sharpening at the panic in his brother's voice.

Stranger: "The idiot overdosed... Please... Tell me you're going now..." Sherlock did everything but beg that last bit. He was chewing at his lip in nerves.

You: "All right," Mycroft replied, standing from his comfortable chair. "What hospital did they take him to?"

Stranger: "Bart's of course..." Sherlock mentally hit himself. Bart's... the place he just faked his death.. God that had to kill John in itself.

You: "I'm on my way," Mycroft said. "Don't do anything rash, Sherlock. Keep to your disguise." Mycroft called for his car and drove to St. Bart's. He used his name to bully his way into John's room and paused as he saw Lestrade sitting next to the bed.

Stranger: "Mycroft?" Lestrade stood from his chair, turning to him in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

You: "I was added as John's emergency contact as soon as I heard Sherlock had died," Mycroft lied smoothly. "They called me once they stabilized him. How is he?"

Stranger: "Not well... Better, but not awake..." Lestrade said walking up to Mycroft and looking back at John.

You: Mycroft smiled at Lestrade and stepped close to him, his shoulder almost brushing the other man's. He let his eyes roam over the DI's shoulders and back appreciatively. "Do they know when he will wake up?" Mycroft asked

Stranger: "No..." Lestrade said slowly, his body heating at the closeness Mycroft had to him. "They say it could be a couple hours, or a couple days..."

You: "Well, sitting here watching him won't bring him any closer to consciousness," Mycroft said decisively. "You look exhausted and hungry. Why don't we get something to eat and then check on him again?"

Stranger: "Are you sure? I mean... leaving him in this state...?" Lestrade croaked.

You: "Yes, it won't hurt him and may hurt you," Mycroft replied. Surrendering to an impulse, he put one arm over Lestrade's shoulders and drew him out of the room.

Stranger: "I don't know... I don't have much money and I-"

You: "Don't worry about it," Mycroft interrupted him, smiling gently. "It's my treat if that makes you feel better."

Stranger: "I couldn't let you pay... It wouldn't feel right... I mean...." Lestrade fulttered, feeling himself go red.

You: "Then think of it as a thank you for taking care of John," Mycroft said smoothly. "Sherlock cared for him very much." Remembering, Mycroft typed a quick text to Sherlock, telling him John was alive.

Stranger: "Still... I couldn't..." Lestrade tried to hide his blush

You: "Greg, stop arguing with me and come eat," Mycroft said sternly, softening it with a smile. "What sounds good to you?"

Stranger: "I-I don't know... Um... what do you want?" Lestrade asked, stuttering.

You: Mycroft chuckled to himself at Lestrade's reaction. He had watched the inspector since Sherlock started working cases with him and had finally decided to ask him out. "How about Thai? There's a wonderful place near the Thames I like to go to."

Stranger: "Sounds... Sounds good." Lestrade smiled sheepishly.

You: Mycroft led Lestrade out to his black car and they settled into the backseat. Mycroft shifted slightly so that his thigh brushed against the other man's. "I'm sure you'll love it," he said, making conversation. "It's a little place I discovered a few years ago."

Stranger: "I-I'm sure... I mean..." Lestrade shifted slightly when he felt Mycroft's hip on his.

You: Mycroft smiled into Lestrade's eyes and leaned closer. "One of my favorite restaurants actually," he continued. "I try to visit at least once a month"

Stranger: "Um... uh, Mycroft?" Lestrade said softly, his eyes going soft slightly.

You: "Yes, Greg?" Mycroft said quietly, his eyes tracing the inspector's face

Stranger: "Wh-what are you..?" Lestrade muttered, looking deeply into Mycroft's eyes.

You: "What am I what?" Mycroft asked, drawing out the moment. Lestrade was cute stuttering and red-faced

Stranger: "Doing?" Lestrade whispered.

You: "Trying to show my interest in you," Mycroft whispered back. He rested a hand gently on Lestrade's knee and waited while the DI sorted his emotions

Stranger: "God.... Mycroft you...?" Lestrade inched closer slightly, brushing his hip against Mycrofts again.

You: The elder Holmes just tilted his head in question, his body heating as Lestrade moved closer to him

Stranger: "Mycroft... I..." Lestrade couldn't form a straight sentence, his mind was racing and nothing made sense to him.

You: "Full sentences, Greg," Mycroft chided gently, squeezing his knee. "I'm not a mind reader."

Stranger: "I... and... God, just... Kiss me, Mycroft..." Lestrade could only choke out.

You: Mycroft grinned widely and leaned forward, brushing his lips gently over Lestrade's. His hand stroked a few inches up Lestrade's leg and back down to his knee

Stranger: "Mhmmm..." Lestrade moaned, into his mouth.

You: Mycroft took that as permission to take the kiss deeper, licking into Lestrade's mouth. He didn't move his hands anymore than he already was; he didn't want to spook the inspector

Stranger: Lestrade put his hand onto Mycroft's thigh, bending into the kiss even more.

You: Mycroft hummed into Lestrade's mouth, happy that he was getting into the kiss. Without breaking the kiss, he gently wrapped an arm around Lestrade's waist and pulled him closer

Stranger: "God Mycroft..." Lestrade moaned. "He ran his hand up Mycroft's thigh.

You: Mycroft chuckled as they broke the kiss and said, "You know, I really am glad that my cars have blacked out windows." He pressed a quick kiss to Lestrade's mouth then slid down to suck at the artery running below his neck.

Stranger: Lestrade gasped at the contact to the tender skin under his jaw.

You: Becoming bolder, Mycroft trailed his hand up Lestrade's thigh, stopping a few inches short of his groin. He rubbed gently at the muscles underneath the fabric

Stranger: "God, Mycroft... God... Can we... after dinner?" Lestrade moaned.

You: "Of course," he answered, removing his hand. Mycroft looked out the window and noted they were almost there. "The restaurant is just around the corner."

Stranger: "God... Kiss me again... Please..." He bent in closer, his face a few inches away from Mycroft's.

You: Mycroft leaned forward again, tracing Lestrade's lips with his tongue. He dipped his tongue it and teased, smiling against the DI's lips

Stranger: Lestrade thread his fingers into Mycoft's hair, deepening the kiss.

You: Mycroft groaned, his hands holding Lestrade tight against him. Regretfully, he broke their kiss and said, "And if we keep doing that, we'll never make it to dinner."

Stranger: "Awwww." Lestrade pretended to pout. "Fine, but after?" He kissed Mycroft's lips quickly.

You: "Whatever you want," he replied, arching an eyebrow at the DI. "If you're responding to me this fast, why did it take you so long after your wife left to do anything?"

Stranger: "Um.. Well, after my wife left, it took a little while to get over her... The pain and the lonelyness... Then I only just got to know you and I... didn't know how to... tell you and... I mean... then Sherlock dyed and... and... and..." Lestrade started fighting back tears.

You: Fighting back the tears in his own eyes, Mycroft draped his arm over Lestrade's shoulders. "It's all right to cry," Mycroft told him quietly. "No one will see here."

Stranger: "God.. why did that bastard have to do that..?" Lestrade leaned into Mycroft's embrace, letting the tears finally break free.

You: "Which one?" Mycroft asked sardonically. "Sherlock or Moriarty?"

Stranger: "Sherlock! Why did he have to die?!" Lestrade sobbed, losing control.

You: Holding him gently, Mycroft shook his head. He wanted to tell Lestrade that Sherlock was alive but he was one of the three targets. And he couldn't lose this man now. "I don't know," Mycroft finally replied. "I don't think anyone ever truly understood my brother. I, and perhaps John, came the closest."

Stranger: "John... was the best thing... for him..." Lestrade sobbed slowly into Mycroft's shoulder. "He... He... Damn it Sherlock! Why did you have to make John so broken?!"

You: "I don't think my brother considered what would happen to John," he said, the words being dragged from his mouth reluctantly. "He was never very good with emotions."

Stranger: "John loved him!" Lestrade shouted angerly. "He bloody loved him! I can tell.... and Sherlock was too stupid to see it..."

You: "They were the only ones who didn't see it," Mycroft said sadly. "We all dropped enough hints." He noticed that the car had pulled into a parking space outside the restaurant but he made no move to leave. Greg needed him now

Stranger: "I just can't..." Lestrade lost control and sobbed into Mycroft's jacket.

You: "I know," he said quietly, rubbing circles on his back. Mycroft finally let his own tears fall, a delayed reaction since he now knew Sherlock was alive. He had felt so... frozen when John had told him.

Stranger: Lestrade backed away when Mycroft's phone started ringing.

You: Glancing at the caller ID, Mycroft swore quietly. He looked into Lestrade's eyes and asked, "Can I take this privately? Its classified."

Stranger: "Um... Sure... I'll... I'll meet you in the restaurant." Lestrade opened the door to get out.

You: "Thank you," Mycroft smiled at him before the door closed. He flipped open his phone and snapped, "Yes, Sherlock?"

Stranger: "How's John?! Is he ok?! How does he look?! Anything serious?!" Sherlock's voice was rapid and paniced.

You: "He is alive but unconscious," Mycroft replied. "The doctors said it may be a while before he wakes up, though."

Stranger: "Are you there now? Is Lestrade there? How is he?"

You: "We are not there right now," he answered. "When we left, John was in the hospital bed and he was fine. He probably hasn't even woken up yet. If you're worried, you can always send Molly."

Stranger: "Where are you?! Why did you leave? Is Lestrade ok?!" Sherlock's voice was so worried, Mycroft never heard him like this

You: "Calm down," Mycroft answered. "Lestrade is fine, he was exhausted and hungry. I convinced him to get something to eat before he collapsed. And the food in the hospital is not worth mentioning."

Stranger: "Will you text me when your back at the hospital? Keep me updated?" Sherlock asked nervously. "Molly wants to know if you want to come to tea later as well?"

You: Mycroft sighed. There went his romantic night with Greg. "Yes, I will. And tell Molly I'll be there around 6." He hung up the phone and stroked the cane of his umbrella. Putting his phone away, he got out of the car to go on his date with the DI.

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Stranger: Sherlock paced the flat, unable to get the image of John being run out of the flat out of his mind. He was scared and angry at himself. Only the first day and John had tried to kill himself... Only the first day and he wanted to run back to John...

You: Molly watched Sherlock pace with worried eyes. She had an idea about what was running through his head and knew going to John would be the worst thing he could do right now. "I could go watch him," she offered, stopping his pacing with a gentle hand on his arm.

Stranger: "Wha?" Sherlock asked, being pulled from his deep thoughts all of a sudden. His hand tightened around his phone.

You: "I'll go watch over him," Molly repeated. "I'll text you every hour and as soon as he wakes up."

Stranger: "Would you?" Sherlock asked hopefully. "Could you maybe send me some pictures? I need to see him..."

You: "Of course," Molly said, smiling at him. "Give me about 20 minutes to get there." Molly squeezed his arm and shrugged into her coat. She waved goodbye and drove to the hospital

Stranger: Sherlock continued to pace the flat. He checked his phone at least every minute, waiting anxiously for Molly's text.

You: Molly was directed to John's room and she choked back a sob as she took in the doctor's appearance. She sent a quick text to Sherlock and snapped a few pictures with her phone.

Stranger: God... He looks... So... Lifeless... -SH

You: But he's breathing. He's alive - MH

Stranger: I know.. But I'm so worried... -SH

You: Molly looked over John with a practiced eye. Many people forgot, since she worked primarily with the dead, but Molly was a doctor too. He should wake soon - MH

Stranger: Are you sure? -SH

You: Yes. He's already tossing and turning on the bed. John's strong, he'll be ok - MH

Stranger: But what if he... Trys again? -SH

You: We'll watch him. Greg and I. Take him out and try to get his mind off things. I'm sure Greg will agree. - MH

Stranger: But what about when your not there? He already got away with it once... -SH

You: We'll figure something out, Sherlock. It'll be ok - MH

Stranger: I'll never be able to stop worrying... I'm sorry... -SH

You: I know. But we will take care of him. You'll be able to come back to him. - MH

Stranger: I know it just kills me though... -SH

You: I have to go. He's starting to wake up and you'll know he'll want to know who I'm talking to. Text you again soon. -MH

Stranger: ok... I just wish you could tell him... Nevermind... -SH

You: Molly smiled gently at John from her seat next to the bed. The doctor tried to focus on her face and failed miserably.

You: "M...Mo...Molly?" John choked out, blinking his eyes rapidly. His entire body hurt and the last several hours were a pained blur in his head.

Stranger: "Hey, John... How are you doing?" Molly forced a smile at the painful doctor.

You: "Hurt," John replied, trying to rub his forehead. His arm lifted a few inches and then dropped back down to the bed. "Where?"

Stranger: "Your at Bert's, John. Do you remember what happened?"

You: "Not really," John said, voice trailing off. "I remember staring... at needles... at the drug.... Then Lestrade yelling at me.... What did I do?"

Stranger: "I think you overdosed. Doesn't that sound familiar?" Molly talked quietly as to not bother John so much.

You: "Sort of," John replied. "I was going for a high... to forget... -him-. Guess I misjudged." A harsh, grating laugh turned into a coughing fit and John felt tears gathering in his eyes again

Stranger: "Oh... Poor guy..." Molly took John's hand in his. "I should text Lestrade... Tell him your up."

You: John nodded at her and closed his eyes. He was exhausted and the pain was not helping.

Stranger: Molly typed a quick message to both Lestrade and Sherlock, still holding John's hand in hers.

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You: Mycroft arched an eyebrow as Lestrade jumped suddenly in the middle of their conversation

Stranger: "Text..." Lestrade blushed, digging for his phone. He opened it. "It's from Molly... She's at the hospital... John's awake!"

You: "That's good news," Mycroft said, smiling at Lestrade. "Does he remember what happened? Why he did it?"

Stranger: Lestrade typed out the message quickly before turning back to Mycroft. "Thanks again... This is nice."

You: "You're very welcome, Greg," he answered. "Though I do have some bad news. I agreed to have tea with Molly later so we'll have to postpone tonight."

Stranger: "Oh? Well then... I guess... Some other time?" Lestrade said at length, the dissapointment and hear seeping into his voice.

You: "Definitely, how about tomorrow night?" Mycroft answered, running a finger along the back of Lestrade's hand.

Stranger: "You sure you don't have plans?" Lestrade muttered, sipping his water.

You: "Nothing more important than you," he answered, leaning forward to brush his lips across Lestrade's cheek. "Nothing that can't wait."

Stranger: "If you say so... Think Molly would mind if I tagged along?" Lestrade asked.

You: "I don't know," Mycroft said, his mind racing to find a plausible excuse for Greg not to go. Not to possibly see Sherlock. "She mentioned she has some personal items of Sherlock's and wanted to give them to me privately."

Stranger: "Oh..." Again that ping of hurt was back. "Ok then... Tomorrow..."

You: "And we can do whatever you want," Mycroft said, trying to bring the smile back to Greg's face. "And for now, we still have some time. I'm not meeting Molly until 6." He brushed another kiss onto Lestrade's cheek and smiled when the other man blushed.

Stranger: Lestrade's phone beeped again and he looked at it. "Says he doesn't remember anything..." Lestrade read slowly.

You: "He may get it back," Mycroft said. "Sometimes trauma makes us forget the immediate memories."

Stranger: "True.." Lestrade pocketed the phone and poked at his food.

You: "What's the matter, Greg?" Mycroft asked, concern in his voice.

Stranger: "Nothing." Lestrade tried to force a smile.

You: "It's interesting watching you try, but I can tell you're lying. You can talk to me."

Stranger: "No, it's nothing." Lestrade tried to straighten up.

You: Mycroft sighed but let it go, realizing that Lestrade would tell him or not in his own time. Perhaps he didn't trust him all that much yet? "Well, then let's finish this delicious meal?" Mycroft suggested, before spooning up a large bite of rice.

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Stranger: Sherlock was pacing again. He listened at his shoes pattered against the ground and as the ground groaned under him. He dug out his phone as it rang and looked at Molly's name on the screen. 'Hes awake.' those two words... Sherlock sighed and sat down on the coach. "Thank god..." he muttered.

You: Molly surreptitiously took another picture of John, sleeping peacefully, and sent it to Sherlock. Looks better now, doesn't he? - MH

Stranger: Much. -Sh

Stranger: Hes so cute when he's sleeping... -SH

You: Yes, he is. I talked to a nurse and she said he should be fine to leave in a few days. - MH

Stranger: I'm so glad.. Thank you, Molly... I owe you so much... -SH

You: It's all right, Sherlock. I care for both of you, you know. - MH

Stranger: I know... God... I miss him... -SH

You: I know. When do you think Mycroft will have more information for you? - MH

Stranger: No idea... He's currently out with Lestrade for dinner. He said yes to tea by the way... 6-ish. -SH

You: Good. We can discuss more when he gets there. The faster we make them safe, the faster you can come back - MH

Stranger: I hope to be with him in the next few weeks... Molly, can you buy some flowers for him for me? I'll pay you back the money -SH

You: Don't worry about paying me back. What kind of flowers? - MH

Stranger: The best you can find. And no, I want to... I want the flowers to be from me... -SH

You: All right. I'll send you a picture when I put them near the bed. - MH. Molly headed to the gift shop and bought two vases full of flowers, one with a lily and carnation bouquet and one with a wildflower bouquet. She had another nurse help her carry them back and snapped a picture of them on the dresser next to John.

Stranger: Perfect. Thank you -SH

You: You're welcome. John's still asleep so I'm going to leave a note and head back. - MH. Molly wrote a quick note and left it near the flowers while also catching the nurse on duty and telling her. Molly drove back to the flat to see Sherlock pacing the room again.

Stranger: "Molly, you sure he's going to be ok?" Sherlock asked, stopping for a moment to look at her, his hands stapled under his chin.

You: "Yes, I am," Molly replied, smiling gently at Sherlock. "He'll live through this and I'll make sure he stays ok."

Stranger: "I don't want him hurting himself... Everything I've done would have been for nothing... All this pain would be for nothing.." Sherlock muttered, pacing across the room to look out the window.

You: "He didn't mean to," Molly explained. "He was looking for a high.... Like you used to.... Wanted to forget the pain and misjudged the dose."

Stranger: "He said that?" Sherlock looked back at Molly, dropping his hands.

You: "Yes," Molly said, standing next to Sherlock and putting a hand hesitantly on his arm. The detective hadn't shrugged her off before; maybe he needed the contact now.

Stranger: "God... Molly, I need to figure out my next move..." Sherlock said at some length, looking at her, concern only slightly hinted in those unreadable eyes.

You: "We'll figure it out when Mycroft gets here," Molly said soothingly. "You know, I was thinking about it on the way over. Wouldn't the snipers on Mrs. Hudson and Greg be someone near to them? Maybe living or working nearby?"

Stranger: "Who knows at this point..? They could be right next to them and I couldn't tell..." Sherlock sighed, sitting down in an armchair near by

You: Molly lets Sherlock sit in silence, knowing anything she says now could be countered. She bustles around the flat, making tea and cleaning. A knock at the door interrupts her and she opens it to admit Mycroft

Stranger: "Evening Molly. Sherlock." Mycroft nodded as he walked briskly into the flat.

You: "Hello," Molly replies, gesturing the older Holmes brother to sit down. She brings in more tea and cups and brings a plate of cookies.

Stranger: "Did you find anything about the snipers?" Sherlock asked as soon as his brother sat down across from him.

You: Mycroft checks his phone and finds a short file from Anthea. "I've found one," he replies. "That new inspector in Lestrade's department. Pale skin, light brown hair. He's actually an SAS veteran"

Stranger: "God... can you send me a picture?" Sherlock asked, pulling the phone Molly had got him earlier that day out of his pocket.

You: Mycroft types a few buttons on his phone and the picture flashes to Sherlock's phone. He sits back and waits while his brother studies it

Stranger: Sherlock looks over the photo and saves it to the phone. "I'll aim for him tomorrow." Sherlock pocketed the phone and took a tea from the tray, looking Mycroft over quickly. "So, Mycroft, you and Lestrade huh?" Sherlock smirked.

You: "Problem?" Mycroft replied, sidestepping the term 'aim'. For now at least

Stranger: "No, actually. Congrats." Sherlock smirked over his tea before he took a lengthy sip. "In fact, couldn't be happier for you two."

You: "Really?" Mycroft answered. "I'm surprised. Why?"

Stranger: "Because, this way you can look over him. Just be careful, that sniper is after him. One word that I'm alive and that little trigger of his may just slip." Another lengthy sip. "Besides, Lestrade needs someone like you around right now, if, you know, you two are serious. The moments I saw him rushing past to follow John-

Stranger: " Pause. "Well, he didn't look all too happy. He looked depressed and just stressed out... Please, look after him and keep him safe."

You: "I will do that," Mycroft promises. "I actually had to dissuade him from coming with tonight because I didn't want to chance him seeing you." Molly starts and breaks in, "I need to talk to him actually. About John. We need to watch over him, make sure he doesn't accidentally hurt himself again. Or on purpose."

Stranger: "Well, if you do wish to do so, he'll be over at my place tomorrow night, you are welcome to come over for an hour or so." Mycroft turned to her.

You: "I'll do that," Molly said. She fell silent again, nibbling on a cookie as Mycroft turned back to Sherlock. "And what do you mean, "aim"?" Mycroft asked his brother. "Getting arrested for murder would put the lie to your death."

Stranger: "Oh relax." Sherlock said, setting his cup down on the table. "I'll follow him around a little. Get to know his patterns. Then when the time is right, I'll make my move."

You: "It'd be safer to have one of my... minions do it," Mycroft said delicately. Sherlock often made jokes about how he was the British Government, but Mycroft was always careful to not let him know how right he might be.

Stranger: "True... But let me get to understand him a little. Hunt him down and make sure he's the one we're after. If we have a minion-" Sherlock smirked. "-of yours kill the wrong person... we'll... People may talk. Demand what the reasoning behind it was. In the long shot of things, I want to do this as to keep Lestrade as safe as possible, not to mention John and Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock finished, sitting back in his seat.

You: Mycroft nodded and sent a quick text to Anthea. "When will you start tracking him?" Mycroft asked curiously

Stranger: "Text Lestrade and ask him what time that shift of his starts. Obviously the sniper would get the same shift times as Lestrade, so getting to know his shifts will lead us to the sniper's hours as well."

You: "Very well." Mycroft texted Lestrade with a smile on his face. Really, he should have thought of this earlier. What are the hours you're working this week, Greg? - MH

Stranger: Five to Seven Monday through Saturday. Why you ask? -GL

You: So I can make some plans. Don't want to interfere with your work. - MH

Stranger: Does around seven-thirty work for tomorrow night? -GL

You: That's fine with me. Do you mind if Molly meets with us for about an hour? She wants to talk to you about John. - MH

Stranger: Of course not. But only for an hour, the rest of the time you're mine. -GL

You: And that will be my pleasure. See you then. - MH

Stranger: see you -GL

You: Mycroft lowered his phone and said to Molly, "Greg says you're welcome to come over for an hour to talk about John. He's worried about him too. Literally had to drag the man away from the hospital. And Sherlock, he works from 5 to 7 Mondays to Saturdays."

Stranger: "God, that much... Okay then, I'll be there at around four in the morning, watch for the sniper to enter, then hang around until he leaves and try to follow him home." Sherlock shrugged and picked up a cookie, more looking it over then actually eatting it.

You: "He really works that much?" Molly said, shock in her voice. "I understand now the problems he was having with his wife. They must never have really talked about it." Mycroft shrugged and looked disinterested. He couldn't care less about Greg's ex-wife.

Stranger: Sherlock studied Mycroft for a moment before adding in. "Yeah, so make sure you aren't so problem-causing, Mycroft. You hurt him in any way and I swear..."

You: "I cause problems?" Mycroft exclaimed. "What problems would that be? And I would never hurt him intentionally."

Stranger: "Don't hurt him at /all/, intentionally or not. And you know very well you cause problems!" Sherlock looked away and at Molly, who was just standing behind Mycroft, staring at the pair of them.

You: "I do not control everything," Mycroft said evenly. "I will do everything in my power to protect him."

Stranger: "You better..." Sherlock all but growls.

You: "Are we done here?" Mycroft asked. "Because if we are, I had plans that had to be cancelled."

Stranger: "Yes yes, run along to your boyfriend." Sherlock waves a hand uncaringly. "What time should I come over?" Molly piped up, opening the door for Mycroft.

You: "7:30, Molly, though I really do ask that you only stay the hour," Mycroft said, walking out the door. He waved to the two and headed out to his car, pulling out his phone and texting Lestrade. Finished at Molly's. Want to meet? - MH

Stranger: Oh, God yes! -GL

You: Where are you? I'll meet you there - MH

Stranger: I'm at my place. Come on over. -GL

You: On my way. See you in about 15 minutes. - MH. Mycroft gave Lestrade's address to his driver and sat back to watch the streets flow by the window. He stepped out of the car jauntily when it stopped outside Lestrade's home.

Stranger: "Hey there." Lestrade answered the door as Mycroft just knocked on it.

You: "Eager to see me, Greg?" Mycroft asked, stepping smoothly over the step and into the house.

Stranger: "A little." Lestrade chuckled as he shut the door and locked it.

You: Mycroft let his gaze roam the house and was happy to see if was clean and neat. Very much like Lestrade himself. "And what did you have in mind?"

Stranger: Before Lestrade could stop himself, he had Mycroft in his arms, kissing him feverishly, his body heating in every place it touched Mycroft's.

You: In surprise, Mycroft dropped his ever-present umbrella before his arms wrapped around Lestrade's waist. He pulled the man hard against his chest and kissed him deeply

Stranger: "God, Mycroft..." Lestrade moaned into his lips, feeling the tongue trying to push it's way in.

You: "Let me in, Greg," Mycroft whispered back. "I want to taste you."

Stranger: Lestrade chuckled deeply, running his hands into Mycroft's short hair as he felt his tongue pry open his mouth, Lestrade's body was on fire from all the firce contact. All at once, all the heat flowed straight to his crotch, having it throb against his now-too-tight jeans.

You: Mycroft ran his tongue between Lestrade's lips, one hand running up his back to tangle in his hair. He pulled back gently, tipping his head back to take the kiss deeper. He explored the inspector's mouth hungrily, possessively, drinking in every flavor.

Stranger: Lestrade moaned deeply, pressing his hips into Mycroft's without really thinking about what he was going.

You: Mycroft's other hand ran down and cupped Lestrade's hip, pulling him tight against his own hips. He maneuvered the inspector until his back hit the wall and pressed against his body.

Stranger: Lestrade, crotch feeling as though it would explode from all the heat being passed down to it, bit at Mycroft's lower lip, moaning as he did so. Slowly, he reached for Mycroft's shirt buttons before stopping, his fingers tangled around the top one. Was it too fast?

You: Mycroft licked the lip Lestrade had bitten, his breath heaving. He gripped the hand that hovered over his shirt button and looked into the inspector's eyes. "You sure?" he asked.

Stranger: "I don't know... Do you want... to move this fast?" He panted, feeling foolishly out of breath.

You: "I am all right with whatever you are comfortable with," Mycroft replied, leaning forward to brush his lips over Lestrade's.

Stranger: Lestrade undid the top button and looked into Mycroft's eyes teasingly.

You: "Don't stop now," Mycroft breathed. "You feel good."

Stranger: Lestrade kissed Mycroft slowly and feverishly again, undoing each button in a slow, teasing manor.

You: Kissing Lestrade back hungrily, Mycroft moaned into his lips as Lestrade's hands revealed more of his skin. His hands rose and played with the hem of Lestrade's shirt, brushing gently at the skin underneath

Stranger: Lestrade started to peel off the shirt, taking it gently and letting the fabric brush the arms of Mycroft very teasingly as Lestrade pressed his tongue along the line of his lips.

You: Mycroft shrugged his shoulders and let the shirt drop to the floor. He raised his hands again and ran one along the line of Lestrade's jaw. "What next?" he asked teasingly.

Stranger: "Mine." Lestrade moaned in the brief second he allowed their lips to leave each other's.

You: "Of course," Mycroft answered, smiling. He leaned down and left a trail of burning kisses down Lestrade's neck to his collarbone. He bit at the point of his collarbone and left a red mark. "And now mine."

Stranger: "No... Shirt..." Lestrade whispered into Mycroft's ear before taking it in his mouth and tugging gently.

You: Mycroft smirked and slid his hands underneath Lestrade's shirt. He pulled it up and off the inspector and let his hands roam the broad chest.

Stranger: Lestrade lifted his hands above his head to let Mycroft lift the shirt off.

You: Wrapping his arms around Lestrade's waist again, Mycroft dipped his head and trailed his tongue down the inspector's chest.

Stranger: Lestrade hissed in a breath between his teeth as the cold air hit the wet line running down his chest from Mycroft's tongue.

You: "Greg?" Mycroft asked, looking back up at Lestrade's face. He pressed a kiss to his chest and waited, not wanting to move too far.

Stranger: "Yes?" Lestrade asked, a little out of it from the pleasure.

You: "Are you ok? I didn't hurt you, did I?" Mycroft asked, concerned. He stood again and pulled the inspector against his chest, rubbing the muscles of his back

Stranger: "God no... Feels... Bloody amazing..." Lestrade bent and bit into Mycroft's neck.

You: Mycroft moaned and lifted his head, giving Lestrade more access to his neck. He fisted his hands into the small of Lestrade's back

Stranger: "Marks ok?" Lestrade hissed into the hot flesh of Mycroft's neck, nibbling at it.

You: "I left one on you, so feel free to leave them on me," Mycroft panted.

Stranger: Lestrade chuckled at his breathless partner and bites down, sucking, at the tender flesh just above the collar bone.

You: "Oh... my... god, harder please," Mycroft groaned, clutching tightly at the inspector. He had a feeling his fingers were going to leave bruises on the man's back.

Stranger: Lestrade bit harder and sucked as hard as he could, letting his tongue wonder.

You: "That feels amazing," Mycroft said, his voice gravelly. He ran his nails up Lestrade's back, leaving red trails and smiling when the inspector arched into his chest

Stranger: "Jesus!" Lestrade moaned as he reached up to bite Mycroft's ear again.

You: "Not quite," Mycroft laughed darkly, his head tilting to suck and bite at Lestrade's neck.

Stranger: Lestrade felt his knees go week as Mycroft's lips made contact with the delicate flesh.

You: He wrapped an arm around Lestrade's waist to hold him up, pressing him back against the wall. His other hand roamed the man's chest, tweaking the nipples until they stood hard and erect

Stranger: "Please... Mycroft..." Lestrade begged, pleasure being shot straight down to his length.

You: "What do you want Greg?" Mycroft asked, his voice like velvet-wrapped gravel. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

Stranger: "Please..." Was all Lestrade could manage before his legs completely gave out. It was all too much, he's never felt anything like this.

You: Mycroft sank to the floor with him, unable to support his complete weight. Laying on his side, Mycroft pulled Lestrade against him, kissing his forehead. "Tell me what you want," he whispered.

Stranger: I want to... I want..."

You: "I do not want to push you too far," Mycroft said. "I understand this may be the first time you have kissed another man. Or done anything else with one for that matter. Please, tell me how far you want to go."

Stranger: "I... I want to st... stop..." Lestrade breaths heavily, feeling stupid laying on the floor without even doing anything to the other man.

You: "All right," Mycroft kissed him, just a simple press of lips to lips, before sitting up. He crossed his legs primly underneath him and waited while the inspector brought himself under control.

Stranger: "I'm sorry..." Lestrade said lamely, sitting up and avoiding Mycroft's eyes.

You: "Don't be. I rather enjoyed our time together," Mycroft chuckled, gently fingering the marks the DI had left on his neck. "Though its a good thing I wear my suits buttoned to the neck. Don't really want to shock the older members of the Diogenes club."

Stranger: Lestrade chuckled and kissed Mycroft again, taking it slowly and making it last a good long time.

You: Mycroft cupped the back of Lestrade's head carefully, not pulling him too hard. The kiss was sweet and gentle and more of a declaration of caring than if they had spoken it out loud

Stranger: Lestrade turned his head a little to deepen the fireworks of affection that felt was going between them. He placed a caring hand on Mycroft's knee and leaned in a little more, balancing on his knees.

You: Mycroft held still, hoping Lestrade would come a little further but not wanting to press him. He traced his lips gently with his tongue but didn't dip in, just teased him

Stranger: Lestrade pressed his tongue gently back, wanting to taste Mycroft's mouth. As Mycroft opened his lips slightly, Lestrade slid in, feeling around Mycroft's tongue slowly, gently, softly.

You: Mycroft let Lestrade explore his mouth, running a finger gently over the back of the hand resting on his knee. This learning, this... tasting was killing him and he loved it

Stranger: Regratfully, Lestrade pulled away, looking sick with depression. He met Mycroft's eyes slowly. "Is this what Sherlock would have wanted?" The words came in no more then a whisper. What brought this question up, Lestrade didn't even know. He just felt sick at the feeling of Sherlock.

You: "What do you mean?" Mycroft asked quietly, his heart hammering in his chest. Where did this come from? Did he know? How could he possibly know?

Stranger: "What would Sherlock say if he could see us? Like this, I mean..." The words trailed off, his voice failing him. Lestrade felt fire-hot tears burning in the back of his eyes. His breath was shuttery. "I just mean... I don't know... If he was alive and.... saw us and... together, I mean..." His voice failed him again and he looked down in dispair.

You: "I think he would be amused," Mycroft finally said. He took a deep breath and felt relief course through him. Greg didn't know. "I knew my brother and he would have laughed to see me in a relationship."

Stranger: "You say that as if you've never been in one..." Lestrade answered, looking in Mycroft's eyes with his damp ones.

You: "I have before," Mycroft answered, meeting Lestrade's eyes for a few moments then looking away. "They... did not end well. I made... mistakes."

Stranger: "You did?" Lestrade asked, whipping away a stray tear that rolled down his cheek. "What happened, if you don't mind my asking."

You: "I chose people who were... difficult," Mycroft said, the words being dragged from his mouth. "We did not... work well together. I let my emotions overrule my head. I swore to myself all those years ago I wouldn't get in another relationship. Then I met you."

Stranger: "Oh, Mycroft... I promise... We'll make things work..." Lestrade scooted closer to Mycroft.

You: "I know, Greg," Mycroft said, a small smile alighting on his lips. "And if we do not, I would hope we separate better than those relationships in the past."

Stranger: "No, if something happens between us, I'm not letting it fall apart. I'm done with fake lovers and wife's who leave me for better people... I want a real relationship that works and I want it to be with you, Mycroft." Lestrade took Mycroft's hand in his and squeezed it tightly.

You: Mycroft's smile grew wider and he intertwined his fingers with Lestrade's. "Sounds like what I want as well."

Stranger: "I'm so glad..." Lestrade beamed and leaned in to kiss Mycroft on the cheek.

You: "So, do you want to get off the floor now?" Mycroft chuckled. "Perhaps a couch would be more comfortable to talk on?"

Stranger: Lestrade blushed. "I think that's a... Smart idea..." Lestrade stood and helped Mycroft to his feet.

You: Mycroft kissed Lestrade on the cheek before gesturing him to lead the way to the couch.

Stranger: Lestrade had Mycroft sit on the couch, looking down at him. "I think I'm going to make some tea, want some?"

You: "Yes, thank you," Mycroft said. As Lestrade walked out, Mycroft studied the room and saw many pictures missing from frames. No longer wanted to see his ex-wife? Mycroft wondered.

Stranger: Lestrade hurried around his small kitchen of a stove top, a microwave, and a fridge. He went about making the tea and putting sugar and milk and things on a plater before placing the kettle and two cups on the platter as well. 

You: Mycroft watched Lestrade walk back in balancing the tray and stood to help him with the things he carried in his arms. "You could have asked for help, you know," he chided him gently

Stranger: "I'm fine hun." Lestrade chuckled as Mycroft took a few of the items. "But thank you."

You: "Hun?" Mycroft rolls the word around his mouth, deciding he liked it. "And you're welcome."

Stranger: "Yes, Hun." Lestrade said, setting the tray down and leaning over to peck Mycroft on the lips. "I'm figuring were together now and all, so why not? Unless, I am mistaken?"

You: "No you're not mistaken," Mycroft reassured him. "Pet names are just something I'm not very familiar with. But I like it." He leaned forward and pours tea for both of them, handing the first cup to Lestrade.

Stranger: "Thank you." Lestrade smiled as he took the cup and started adding things to his drink. "Well, then, I'm glad you like it, Hun."

You: Mycroft patted his hand and added milk and sugar to his own tea before settling back against the couch cushions. "So, I would like to learn more about you. Where do you want to start?"

Stranger: "Why don't you ask me some questions? I am an open book." Lestrade smiled, stirring his tea half-heartedly and leaning back as well.

You: "What made you decide to become an inspector?" Mycroft started, taking a sip of his tea

Stranger: "I don't know, really." Lestrade shrugged. "I was always interested in murder mysteries on the telly. Always love puzzles and looking for clues. I guess after about, 9th grade I figured I wanted to work in crime investigation." Lestrade sipped his tea.

You: "Sounds very much like Sherlock was," Mycroft said sadly. "Though he wanted to be a pirate when he was younger. Anything you want to ask me?"

Stranger: "Yeah. What is it that got you into wanting to work in the British Government?"

You: "I enjoy power," Mycroft said simply. "I enjoy pulling strings and watching people carry out my orders. Plus, I do good work there. My turn. When was your first relationship?"

Stranger: "First relationship... Was back in High School my senior year with Haily Reinheart. Worst relationship ever too... Gosh..." Lestrade shook his head.

You: "What happened?" Mycroft asked curiously.

Stranger: "She basically made a fool out of me in front of the entire class... Used me to get her ex ferrous then broke up with me very harshly..." Lestrade said, frowning and looking down into his tea as the memory clouded his mind. "It was the worst..."

You: "I'm sorry, Greg," Mycroft said, taking his hand in his. "If you like, I can make her life hell now."

Stranger: Lestrade just laughed. "No, no, it's alright. I'm pretty sure I heard somewhere she died in a car crash or something."

You: "Your turn," Mycroft chuckled, keeping hold of Lestrade's hand.

Stranger: "Ok... Are you a vergin?" Lestrade squeezed his hand gently, sipping his tea.

You: "No I am not," Mycroft replied, his head tilting to the side slightly. "Why?"

Stranger: "Wondering. When did you lose it?"

You: "I was 20, about halfway through university," Mycroft replied. "Erica Bennett."

Stranger: "That's nice then. At least you had some fun." Lestrade smiled half-heartedly.

You: "Yes, but not for long," Mycroft replied, his eyes clouding in memories. "She was the first relationship that ended badly. How about you? When did you lose yours?"

Stranger: "Oh... I um... Lost it when I was 12..." Lestrade said, avoiding Mycroft's eyes in embarrassment. "I was drunk... I don't even remember who it was or where..."

Stranger: Lestrade pulled his hand out of Mycroft's, looking away.

You: Mycroft gently laid his hand on Lestrade's knee and waited until he looked at him. "Mistakes that you learn from should not shame you," he said quietly. "And I am not judging you."

Stranger: Lestrade let a slight smile play his lips. "I'm glad... Thank you... Anything else you want to ask?"

You: "I believe its your turn," Mycroft said, smiling back.

Stranger: "Ok, I do have one final question for you, Mycroft." Lestrade smiled shyly.

You: Mycroft waited in silence, enjoying the light that shone in Lestrade's eyes.

Stranger: "Would you, maybe, like to spend the night?" Lestrade asked, retaking Mycroft's hand in his.

You: "Yes, if that's what you want," Mycroft replied, leaning forward to press his lips against Lestrade's cheek.

Stranger: "Is that what you want though?" Lestrade asked, sounding taken aback a little.

You: "Yes, I wouldn't have agreed if I didn't want it," Mycroft chuckled, touched by the inspector's self-consciousness

Stranger: Lestrade grinning then kissed Mycroft on the lips slowly.

You: "It's getting late," Mycroft said, breaking their kiss. "And as its Tuesday tomorrow, you work early. Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"

Stranger: "Or you could... Come... Sleep in my room..." Lestrade said hastily. "Unless if that's moving too fast, of course."

You: "I would like to if you are comfortable with it," Mycroft said, rising. He placed his tea cup on the tray and drew Lestrade up beside him.

Stranger: "I think we can give it a shot." Lestrade smiled

You: Mycroft followed as Lestrade led the way into the bedroom. He took off his suit jacket and waited while the other man fidgeted a bit.

Stranger: After a while and they both were comfortable in bed, Lestrade wrapped a single arm around Mycroft's middle. "Is this ok?" Lestrade asked with a yawn.

You: "Fine," Mycroft replied, pulling Lestrade to lay with his head on his shoulder. "Good night."

Stranger: "Good night." Lestrade kissed the back of his head and closed his eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.

-----------------end chapter 2-----------------------