Tell Me Lies | Mystrade |

Seven

A/N - Again, a few days late as per publish, but I just want to express my devastation at the loss of a legend, David Bowie. I've added a video from Labyrinth, in which David plays (played) Jareth. I've always been so jealous of Sarah for having the Goblin King. Needless to say, I bawled my eyes out rewatching the clip. I think the song 'As The World Falls Down' fits this quite nicely too. No sex either sorry. I had other ideas. I love you all, and thanks for all your support so far. I really appreciate it.

P.S - Confession: I've tried to give children to the Goblin King a number of times and it never worked, so if anyone knows how to summon the goblins, please let me know. (I'm lacking sleep)

-CHxx

Mycroft

Gregory Lestrade was not the average criminal. I knew that. And yet somehow, everything he did seemed to surprise me. Once he'd eaten and showered - taking it upon himself to give himself a shave  using one of my razors without asking my permission - he came back downstairs and sat next to me on my sofa. 

"What're you watching?" He asked. 

"Something trashy," I said in response.

"You know, I believe that's the news."

I hummed. "Yes, so definitely trash."

Lestrade chuckled and shifted so he was in a more comfortable position. "I want you to take it back."

"What?"

"The jewelry that I stole. I want you to take it back, please."

I sighed. "Can we talk about this some other time? I really can't be bothered with this right now."

He coughed awkwardly. "Sorry."

We sat in silence, pretending to watch the falsity they called the evening news. Lestrade was looking around my sitting room - I thought to myself rather dryly that he was probably looking for good stuff to steal - while I stared at the screen and let the information pass through one ear and out of the other. It was all nonsense anyway, nothing of interest, nothing that couldn't be expected from the primitives of London and the wider Britain. 

Lestrade coughed awkwardly and I snapped out of my state to look at him. He nodded towards the television, and I saw his face upon the screen. 

'The police are actively on the hunt for Gregory Lestrade who was found stealing in the city centre of London this evening. He now faces charges of...'

I turned the television off and sighed. "I can't believe this is happening," I groaned, burying my head in my hands. I had let a criminal into my life and more importantly, my home. Since when did I become so idiotic? In answer to that question, my mind helpfully supplied that it was probably since I got the file of a devastatingly gorgeous man who was London's Most Wanted. 

"I can leave if you want me-"

"No," I said firmly, cutting him off. "You're staying. Let's just go to bed. I'll show you to my room. The spare bedrooms aren't made up yet. Admittedly, I don't host many guests."

I could see in his eyes that he was confused. But no, I wouldn't be sharing a bed with him. Not then, not ever. I needed to keep him close. Yes, that was it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, that's what they always said. 

'Yeah, well, don't confuse this enemy as being your friend or it'll get impossibly messier,' my mind counseled me. For a moment thereafter I wondered when I had gotten so boring.