Fifty Shades of Sherlock (A Johnlock/Mystrade fanfiction)

Chapter Five

Nothing is ever as it seems, Mycroft comes to find out. A week ago, he'd been fine. A month and a half of nothing but waiting and hoping to see his dear sweet Gregory every day and now...

Now, Mycroft feared, he was about to lose what he'd been working so hard to keep, what he was certain nothing could take away from him.

But this is not something that is so easy to understand until you hear every side.

~·~

Mycroft was happier than he'd been in months. It seemed having a romantic partner did wonders for his health and perhaps even his relationship with his brother. Gregory was always so kind to him and really took care of him -- a powerful government official who couldn't even take care of himself.

Which is how he found himself in one of Scotland Yard's lifts, on his way up to surprise his dearest Gregory.

He leaned against the silver wall, smiling down at the clipped rose in his hand. He supposed a small gift was in order, perhaps compensation for bothering him at work when he was uninvited this time.

Though he did have to come. Tomorrow marked two months of them being together, and Mycroft wanted to let the other man know that he was more than special to him. A date was to be arranged if Greg agreed to it. As in one with every little cliche you could think of, every romantic thing Mycroft could find anywhere. He'd even gone to Anthea for a bit of advice.

He took a small breath as the lift ding-ed and he stepped away from the elevator, trying to will his smile away but failing terribly.

Though there was something he found that made the man lose his excitement almost immediately.

He was at the door of Gregory's office, about to knock, but as he peered through the white-painted wooden blinds, he spotted a woman standing much too close to his dearest for comfort.

Judging by the way she stood, she wasn't just here to see her boss -- it was quite obvious that she didn't work here. Every officer was issued a gun and holster and there wasn't either to be seen anywhere on her.

No, that wasn't why she was there at all. There was just enough makeup on her skin to cover up any imperfections she may have had, which suggested she was there to impress. Her overly-fitting attire only served to add more backup to the deduction. And then there was the way she twisted a strand of perfectly curled, dirty-blonde hair around her finger like a flirty teenage school girl with a crush.

So really, not a business meeting of any kind.

The pieces connected in Mycroft's mind and he nearly swore he could feel his heart shatter. The rose in his hand fell to the floor, crushed by the heel of the ginger's well-polished shoe as he turned to practically stomp out of the building.

Gregory Lestrade was cheating on him.

--·--

"What exactly is it that you're here?" Sherlock asked rather rudely, earning himself a sharp elbow in the ribs from John, who was sitting beside him on the couch.

Greg sat practically shaking the wooden chair he was settled into across from the couch. "Myc's acting weird. He won't speak to me, hasn't since last Thursday, and the only time I've had him at my flat this week, he hardly spoke. He might've said ten words tops. Wouldn't even let me kiss him goodnight."

Sherlock hummed, thinking for a moment before asking, "What happened Thursday?"

Greg let out a dry laugh. "That's the thing. Nothing happened. Hell, when I left for work that morning, Mycroft already had my coffee made exactly how I like it and kissed me good morning, asking me to just stay there with him. When I told him no, he just poured a little and asked me to hurry back. He seemed so happy. But when I got home, you couldn't tell he'd ever even been there the night before. He was gone."