Mystrade one-shots

They Say I'm Up-And-Coming

Finish the lyric hahaha.
This is dedicated to ShutTheFuckOff (you were keekeebeary when I starting writing this lmaooo) for the prompt, I hope it's okay x

TRIGGER WARNING: One character has mild panic attack, if this would trigger you, please do not read this. Your welfare is more important than the amount of votes this gets.

Prompt: Mycroft and Greg are stuck somewhere. Fluff ensues.

P.S. I'm English so I'm using 'lift' in the place of 'elevator'.
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Mycroft had told them time and time again that these lifts were unstable.
Did they listen? Of course not.

The day was going rather well, before that. Greg had come to visit Mycroft in his office in his lunch break, and they had met at the bottom of the stairs.

"So," said Mycroft, "There are approximately 1000 stairs in this building, 160 of which are on this staircase. Do you wish to-"
"Yes." Greg cut in as he pulled Mycroft towards the lift door.

The lift was perfectly stable at first. It was beautiful to Greg, if lifts could he such a thing. The only downside was the god-awful elevator music playing in the background.
"I know," said Mycroft, picking up on Greg's facial expression. "Ghastly, isn't it?"

Suddenly, just as the lift had begun its gentle ascent towards Mycroft's office, there was a deafening clunk as both men clung to the handrails bordering the walls in a desperate attempt to prevent themselves sliding ungracefully towards the floor.

"Please tell me that wasn't what I though it was."

Mycroft lifted his head to lock eyes with Greg's, panting and desperately trying to correct his breathing pattern. "I don't know," said Mycroft, "I hope not."

Suddenly, a voice rung out through the speakers of the lift.
"Mr Holmes and D.I. Lestrade? It is with sincere apologies that I inform you that the lift you are currently situated in has malfunctioned."
Greg's eyes flew open wide and he began to mumble 'no, no, no' whilst tugging at his own hair in frustration. The voice continued, "We are trying our hardest to solve the problem, and you should be out in approximately two hours."

"Two hours? TWO HOURS? This isn't good enough, Michael." Mycroft roared into the microphone, noting Greg's panic.

"My sincerest apologies, Sir." Michael signed off with a beep, and Mycroft slammed his hand against the door in frustration. Meanwhile, Greg was uneasily quiet. Mycroft watched him carefully, and Greg began to hyperventilate.

"Myc, I'm... I'm... I'm claustro-"
"I know, Greg. I know. I promise I'll try and get you out of here as soon as possible." Mycroft felt helpless as tears began streaming down the detective inspector's face. Suddenly, he had an idea. He slid down the wall to sit on the floor of the lift, and patted the space next to him.
"Join me." He said. Greg looked uneasy as he slowly sat. Mycroft slid closer to him and hugged him from the side, keeping him secure and safe as Greg's head nestled into the politician's chest.
"So," Mycroft started, desperately trying to divert his partner's attention away from the closed space they were trapped in. "What happened at work today?"

"Nothing much. Dimmock nicked my coffee. Donovan and Anderson had another argument. Same old. You're Mycroft Holmes, the British government itself, you should know this." Lestrade mumbled as he gripped Mycroft's shirt in his hand. Mycroft laughed, vibrating Greg's head.
"I don't know everything, my dear, as much as I love to pretend I do."

By this time, Greg's breathing had calmed down slightly, and he was no longer shaking. Mycroft continued slowly stroking through Greg's hair in the hope of calming him down a little more.

"You know what, Greg? You're coping a lot better than I ever could in a situation that caused me so much anxiety." Mycroft didn't want to baby him, not at all, but he wanted to make Greg feel less embarrassed about the current situation.

Greg scoffed. "I'm in the middle of a breakdown, Mycroft. I wouldn't consider this 'coping'. But thanks, love. You always know how to cheer me up."

At that moment, the lift creaked, shuddered, and began to rise slowly again. Greg's head whipped up from Mycroft's chest and out of his embrace, looking worriedly from the doors of the lift. Before they knew it, the doors opened with more ease than they had imagined, and Mycroft's office was in sight. Relieved, they both exited the lift with wobbling legs, and another apology from Michael rang out through space.

"Greg, I know you find this embarrassing, but you're not the only one like this, you know. Around 10% of people in the UK have claustrophobia at some point in their life."

Greg laughed. "Where did you find that statistic, the top-secret files you have laying on your desk? The country's database, or something?" He teased.

Mycroft shifted. "No. I read it on Tumblr."

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HI THERE OMG I STARTED WRITING THIS LAST YEAR AND I'VE ONLY JUST FINISHED IT

I'm so sorry I haven't uploaded in so long! This year has been so hectic you wouldn't believe it.

I'm going to try and get back into the habit of posting again, so you guys can have your dose of fanfiction when you need it!

Please give this a vote if you liked it, comment if you have anything you'd like me to write, and I'll hopefully be posting again very soon.

Lots and lots of love,

Lauren xx