~MYSTRADE~

Meeting Number One

LOCATION--
Office of Mycroft Holmes.
NOTE--
This is the first official meeting of Lestrade and M. Holmes.

~~~~

"Detective Inspector."

"Mr. Holmes."

Mycroft Holmes set the China cup containing his afternoon tea on the mahogany table. Slowly, he sank into his chair and gestured. "Please, sit."

Gregory Lestrade appeared nervous, same as anyone called into Mycroft's personal office. The summons, more often than not, indicated that someone was about to be eschewed from service to the British government.

"Well, let's get down to it, shall we? I am concerned, as ever, for the welfare of my little brother."

"Sherlock." Lestrade cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, which squeaked. Loudly.

Mycroft made a mental note to get the chair replaced. He nodded.

"I am aware that you require his skill for a great number of your cases. If the detective in question was anyone other than my little brother, I would have you sacked on the spot."

The silver-haired inspector gulped loudly.

"However," Mycroft continued, tracing his finger across his desk in an arc, "If I'm to let you keep your job, I want full reports on every case Sherlock's involved in. Can you do that for me, Mr. Lestrade?"

"Of course! Of course. Call me Greg, please," Lestrade said, eager to please.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. "I remember Sherlock calling you George."

"It's Greg." Lestrade sighed.

"Hm. Gregory." Mycroft mused, and reached out a hand to shake Greg's, whose hand was sweaty as he did so. Mycroft pulled his hand away quickly and wiped it on his jacket.

"Thanks a lo', My--erm, Mr. Holmes." Greg said, his loud and gravelly voice suddenly becoming timid. He blushed red.

Surprised at himself even as he said it, Mycroft raised his eyebrows and said, "Er, well--Mycroft is fine."

Mycroft was not fine.

Mycroft was losing it, and he'd just realized why--his eyes couldn't pry themselves away from Gregory Lestrade's.

Damn.