Just Some Johnlock Oneshots

Mystrade

I posted a note on my profile apologizing for leaving all of a sudden and for so long :'(  I thought as a kinda gift I could publish an older story I didn't publish cuz I thought it was a bit cringy. I still think it is, but it's also a bit funny cuz it is. Hope you enjoy! I hope to have a new part out this week!
...

"Thank you, Anthea. That will be all for the day," Mycroft said with a forced smile. His assistant nodded her head, and the man walked past her desk. Glancing through the (bullet proof) glass doors, Mycroft's lips turned upward into what was considered a smile for him. It was raining. The politician absolutely loved the rain. However, he didn't like his clothes to get wet, so he always carried his trusty black umbrella with him. Mycroft popped the door open and then stuck out his umbrella to unfurl it while he still stood in the doorway.

"Hey!" A man outside the door yelled. Mycroft poked his head out of the door to see he had struck someone with his umbrella.

"Oh dear, I do apologize," the politician said, figuring if he just hurried up and apologized he could get going. As he stepped out of the building and under the cover of his umbrella, he took in the appearance of the man before him.

His hair had already gone completely grey, even though he would only be a few years older than Mycroft. Clearly, he was a Detective Inspector with Scotland Yard, for his badge was glittering on his coat in the cloud filtered light. He looked utterly exhausted with bags under his eyes and was craving a cigarette.

"It's alright," the man sighed. Mycroft had to admit that this DI was quite handsome. It had been a while since someone had caught his attention. "Do you mind if I go in, I have a meeting with someone important," he flashed a bright, crooked smile at Mycroft. The politician realized he was still blocking the door and quickly stepped aside.

"While you're here," the silver haired man started, "Could you tell me which way to go to get to a Mr. Holmes's office?"

"I could do more than that." The DI raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner. "I am Mycroft Holmes, pleasure to meet you," With that, Mycroft stuck out his hand. The DI chuckled and shook Mycroft's pale hand in his rough tan one.

"Greg Lestrade. Were you leaving for the night?" The DI asked.

Mycroft resisted rolling his eyes at the stupid question. Obviously, he was leaving! "Yes, I was going to head to the café before going home. You are welcome to join me and we can have our meeting there."

"Great!" Greg flashed the politician a bright smile. At the sight, Mycroft felt a little warmth deep in his abdomen. It made him furrow his brow and hope that the extra donut he had for an afternoon snack wasn't upsetting him stomach. Mycroft pursed his lips and began quickly striding down the pavement. Greg jogged a step or two to keep up with the taller man.

"So," Mycroft started (he wanted to hurry this meeting up so he could curl up on the couch with a vigorating novel he was almost finished with) "I wasn't informed of our meeting, so it was made last minute. What is this about?"

Greg bit his lip for a moment, clearly pondering what was appropriate to say. "Uh, well, you see... one of our prime suspects is an important politician with a lot of political power. Those of us at the Yard are a bit concerned that if he is the murderer that his trial will be corrupted."

Mycroft found himself biting back a smirk. He had just pardoned a different official of fraud a week ago. The detective definitely has a reason to worry. "Well, Detective Inspector, our courts are just, and the necessary outcome will happen."

They turned a corner, and the DI seemed to be searching for the right words to say. "Well, you see, it has happened before where officials who obviously were using government funds have walked free before. A murder shouldn't be able to walk free, regardless of their standing."

Mycroft sighed but reminded himself to be diplomatic. "Those are rare and unfortunate cases, I'm sure this time will have a favorable outcome." A favorable outcome for the politician, Mycroft thought with a smirk.

Thankfully, the men arrived at the café (Mycroft's stomach was starting to rumble), and they waited in line to order. There was an awkward silence for a few minutes as they ordered and received their items. Mycroft sat at a table in the back corner, preferring to do his business in more private settings. Lestrade followed and set his order of black coffee on the table.

"So," Mycroft began, "was that the only concern Scotland Yard had, or is there another issue that needs to be addressed."

Greg fiddled with the cardboard slipped around his cup to prevent hands from being burned. "No, I guess that's it," he sighed. His eyes looked even more tired, and the politician felt a brief moment of concern. From his observations, Mycroft could clearly tell the man didn't want to return home because it reminded him how lonely he is after his wife divorced him a few months ago.

"I-if you want me to go, I can leave," the DI stuttered. Mycroft looked at the man quizzically. "I can tell you don't want to talk to me anymore." Lestrade stood up and panic flashed across Mycroft's mind.

"No! I mean, you are more than welcome to stay," he blurted. Lestrade had a surprised look on his face but sat down. "You haven't even finished your coffee. H-how are things at the Yard?" Mycroft fumbled to make small talk as he shoved a delicious pastry in his mouth.

"I assume you'd know," the grey haired man smirked. Mycroft's cheeks warmed at the sight, and he just nodded, suddenly lost for words. "So, what exactly do you do?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," the politician said with a mischievous smile.

Greg returned the expression. "Really, you think you could?"

"I'm certain of it, Detective Inspector. I have my ways."

A flirtatious look sparked in Greg's eyes. "It's just Greg. And what are those ways?" the DI shot back.

"Well, with you, I'd probably seduce you into coming into my flat, then I'd shoot you from behind," Mycroft gave the other man a challenging look.

"I don't think you'd be able to seduce me," Lestrade smirked.

"Oh, I think I could, Gregory," Mycroft leaned on his arms on the table, bringing him closer to the DI, the plate with crumbs of his pasty forgotten between them.

"Maybe you should try?" the older man bit his lip and also leaned forward.

"I already am," Mycroft whispered. Greg smiled as their faces inched closer. Suddenly, Mycroft stood up and grabbed his umbrella and briefcase from the floor. "Unfortunately, I must go now, I'll be looking forward to seeing you again," he said in all politeness, although he had a wicked smirk on his face.

Greg chuckled but stood up and extended his hand. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon."

"Yes, I hope so. If there are any other concerns of the Yard, I'd be more than willing to offer assistance," Mycroft winked.

The DI bit his lip and watched as the politician strode out of the café after he had opened his black umbrella.

Damn. Greg thought with a smirk.