The Assistant Headmaster (Mystrade Fanfic)

Nine

A/N - hello my darling lovelies, here is #9 (Beatles/John Lennon reference) :p erm so yeah. I've written ahead up to Chapter 15 and stuff is hotting up!
Greg

I was back in Mr. Holmes' office, but this time it was because it was the day of the first rugby game for the season. Mr. Holmes was in a better mood, or at least his tone was more jovial than it had been the day of my first punishment. He sat on the edge of his desk, looking down at me as I sat in the chair that was left for visitors.

"So, Mr. Lestrade," he said, clapping his hands together. "How are we going to win the game tonight?"

"Well, actually," I replied, fishing through my bag until I found the right piece of paper, "I drew this up."

Mr. Holmes took the piece of paper from my hands, his fingers brushing against my knuckles as he did so. I watched as he looked it over, my heart seeming to warm up as he looked impressed. I knew Mr. Holmes well enough to know that he didn't get impressed very often. I had drawn a rough sketch of a rugby field, and drew the numbers of my players shirts onto their positions on the field. The rest was just a crazy array of arrows and words written all over the place, representing what I thought should happen.

"Good, Mr. Lestrade. Very good." He looked up from the paper, into my eyes. "I am very impressed."

He looked back down at the piece of paper, acting as if he hadn't just made me practically burst with pride. Perhaps he didn't even notice.

"Do you think it'll work?" I asked him.

"Oh, yes, of course," he said dismissively. "You have every thing completely under control. I have no doubt that you'll win the game tonight."

And then it happened, and I don't know why. I couldn't control it. It just happened.

"Will you come?"

"I'm sorry?" Mr. Holmes looked genuinely confused.

I felt like dying in a hole. Of course I had to embarrass myself. But instead of backing down, I stepped up to my question. "Will you come? To the game, I mean. They have front row seats reserved for players and teachers. You'll have a great view." I chuckled nervously and scratched the back of my neck.

"I'll see," Mr. Holmes replied. "I have a lot of work to do, but I'll..." his voice trailed off, and I think for a moment, both of us felt uncomfortable. He chuckled quietly and shook his head. "I'll try."

"Right," I couldn't help but grin. "Well, I'd best be going. Got schoolwork to do and all that lark."

"Alright, enjoy," Mr. Holmes laughed.

"I'll see you later then."

"Yes, goodbye, Mr. Lestrade."

I walked out of his office with a smile on my face.

"What happened in there?" Anthea asked me as I passed her.

"Nothing." I gave her a funny look before I walked off, back to class.

*******

I got changed into my navy blue uniform next to the other boys in the changing rooms. We all chattered excitedly, barely containing our excitement about playing.

The coach came in and made us huddle in. "Alright, Lads! I'm not going to say much, I'll leave that to Greg, but have a great game and for goodness sake, win!"

We all laughed before running out onto the field. I felt the familiar warmth flood throughout my body. I could hear my schoolmates cheering us on, and there was a faint chant of 'Greg, Greg, Greg, Greg!'

"Alright, boys! Remember what I said about tonight! Keep your defence open and don't leave gaps. Let's run a few laps, warm up, and kick some arse!"

The lads all cheered and we began our warm ups. I led the boys around the field, setting a pace. Of course, I looked around the crowd, trying to find that one person. He wasn't there.

"Come on, boys!" I shouted, running faster, for some reason angry. "Step up the pace!"

I heard a chorus of groans behind me, but the boys kept up nonetheless. I shouldn't have expected him to come. He was busy, so he'd said. But he also said he'd try. And for him to have said that meant more to me than anything else.

We finished running, and once we'd had a drink, we got ready for kick off. I noticed things had quietened down slightly and I turned towards the crowd once more. There he was, in all his blinding beauty. Mr. Holmes wore a grey coat and a blue scarf. His hair was tousled and I couldn't help but wonder if that's what it looked like after he'd had sex. Everyone turned to look at him, but his eyes were on me. I could've melted into a pool of happiness right then and there.

He walked - awkwardly - through the crowd of people, who all parted for him and stared as he went through. 'He came,' I thought to myself, grinning. 'He actually came.'

The other team took their positions on the field, and we were ready to go. I kicked the ball, sending it flying into the air, off to the other half, and we were away laughing.

We were winning by half time with eighteen points to seven. Mr. Holmes came down as we were getting drinks, his hands shoved in his pockets. The coach stared at him, seeming to be almost bewildered. I only had a moment to wonder why, and then Mr. Holmes was by my side, looking embarrassed.

"You came!" I said, unable to keep the grin off of my face.

"Yes, well, I figured I would. First game and all, I couldn't exactly miss it." There was a brief awkward pause as I nodded, not really sure what he meant, before he continued.
"Your plan is working out very well, Mr. Lestrade. Your coach couldn't have picked a better captain."

Before I could reply, he'd already been taken into a new conversation with Mike and some of the other lads. All I could do was grin and rehydrate myself. Oh, this was very dangerous territory indeed.

The whistle blew, signalling us to get back onto the field. I heard the girls in the crowd chanting my name, but completely zoned into one voice as a hand clamped down on my shoulder in a friendly fashion. "Good luck, Mr. Lestrade," Mr. Holmes murmured in my ear, before turning and walking back to his spot on the stands.

I pushed myself especially hard that half. I made sure that if there were gaps, I filled them, and if I saw that one of my players was about to get tackled, I sped forward to catch the ball they'd desperately throw. The crowd went crazy, and I was grinning the whole time. It was nice to be recognised for something more than my looks.

The clock showed we were at seventy nine minutes, which meant we had one minute to get another few points. The ball was in our quarter, and it was in my hands. I took off as fast as I could, weaving and sidestepping the opposing team as they tried to tackle me to the ground.

Mike ran alongside me, keeping back slightly so I could correctly pass it to him without being done for a forward pass. A large bloke from the other team appeared out of nowhere, or so it seemed, and I tossed the ball back to Mike.

The opposition's line of defence was awful and Mike made it across the line, uninterrupted. The game was over, and we had won by a landslide. The Baskerville students erupted into applause as I gave Mike a bear hug.

Together we looked up to see all out supporters giving us a standing ovation. And in the midst of them was Mr. Holmes, wearing a rare (yet unsurprisingly gorgeous) smile on his face.