Only One (Johnlock)

Brother Dear

A/N Here comes Mystrade! Also, just a little FYI none of these stories are not actually connected plot-wise unless we say so. Thanks! -P. Smith

  Sherlock had just finished a case for Mycroft, and he and John were on their way to his house to tell him.

  When they arrived, the first thing Sherlock noticed was the car, Lestrade's car, parked in the drive next to the shiny limo. He frowned. As he got out of the cab, the second thing his well trained ears noticed was the noise. Faint from a distance, but the shuffling was obviously quite loud if it could be heard. He frowned even deeper.

  "Something wrong?" John had just caught up with him after paying the cabbie.

  "I don't- oh god." As they approached the door, the detective realized the "shuffling" was not shuffling. It was...

  "Is that... moaning?" John asked, his voice low with bemusement. Sherlock hesitated, rolling his eyes. He already knew of his brother's feelings toward the DI, he had just never caught them doing... anything. He knocked steadily, preparing a witty assault for Mycroft or Lestrade. The noise ceased, there was a muffled groan of frustration, and the door opened. Sherlock looked like he would barf.

  "Anderson?! What the hell are you doing here, shagging the British government?" John seemed equally shocked, but the absolutely appalled look on Sherlock's face would no be matched. John could swear he saw him actually gag.
"Calm yourself, brother dear." Mycroft waltzed out from behind Anderson, fully clothed in a suit (though his coat was unbuttoned, and everything was wrinkled). "I don't suppose you'd like to come in for tea, or-,"
"Hey Myc, what's all this talk about shaggin' the British- oh!" Lestrade, who now came sauntering out, clad only in trousers, went quite red, crossing his arms across his bare chest at the sight of Sherlock and John. "Well, I..." He coughed awkwardly.
"Mycroft, please explain what in god's name is going on or so help me..."
"Look," Lestrade started, everyone shifting so they stood in the entry hall. "I was here with Mycroft, Anderson and a few others show up, things happen, and then someone stuck a-"
"Stop." John said, closing his eyes against the image forming in his mind.
"Shot of vodka. I was going to say, someone stuck a shot of vodka in our tea. Think it was Donovan. Then-"
"Er, actually, that was me." Anderson said, leaning against Lestrade. He scowled, and Anderson crept back to the corner.
"Well, I'm positive you do not need our assistance to deduce the rest. You were going to tell me of the case you've solved?" Sherlock scoffed at his brother.
"I'll text you the details. John, we're leaving." John nodded, pursing his lips as he turned. They walked down the street to find a main road, where they could catch a cab.
"You know at first, I thought your brother was cheating on Lestrade. I dunno what's worse."
"This. Definitely this. I mean, I'm scarred for life, John!" Sherlock said, rubbing his face. John chuckled.
"Yeah, I bet you're going to have to spend an entire day locking that away in a padded safe in your mind palace." Sherlock shuddered, and John laughed a bit louder.

A/N Well, there ye go! Not my best work, a little cheesy, but hey, it's there. Anyway, thanks for reading, mah lovlies! -P. Smith