I am not lonely [Mystrade]

CHAPTER 82 : The perfect suit

"Hey John, sorry for being late, the traffic ... Well, you know what it is, don't you ?" apologized the detective entering the pub where his friend was waiting for him, out of breath.
"As a matter of fact I don't own a car myself ..." the doctor chuckled. "But don't worry Greg, I just arrived. My cab has been stuck in the same jam."
"I don't know if its old age and dumb nostalgia but traffic was much better a few years back." the yarder laughed while taking a seat and accepting the pint his friend had already ordered for him.
"Middle age. Might kill us all ..." nodded Watson, drinking a gulp of his own drink. "So, why did you wanted to see me for exactly?"
"Mycroft." replied the policeman. "Well, Mycroft and Sherlock as a matter of fact."
"What have they done again ?" sighed the doctor, already fed up.
"Apparently Sherlock took the excuse of a case I asked him to help me with to pay a little visit to his favourite back alleys and crappy places and when Myc found out it erupted in a fight climaxing in your flatmate saying to his brother that his drug habits was all Mycroft's fault." the detective explained.
"Doesn't he do that on a daily basis ?" wondered John, raising an eyebrow.
"That's what I thought to but apparently this time it was more serious." retorted the DI, rolling his eyes.
"They may be two of the greatest mind in the country but they can be very childish when they want ..." the doctor commented. "Well, how can I be of any help on this subject ? Because I suppose if you asked to see me it's because you've got hopes I can help you with those two, isn't it ?"
"Got it. I would need you to convince Sherlock to apologize to Myc." requested the inspector.
"Just that ?" nearly yelled Watson, chocking himself with his beer. "You want me to have Sherlock admits that he was wrong. Are you crazy ? How the fuck am I suppose to achieve this miracle ?"
"I don't know ! But he listens to you !" chuckled his friend, looking half amused by John's reaction and half depressed.
"You are lucky I owe you one mate because I must be a mad man to accept to do this." laughed the doctor. "What does Mycroft think of you interacting in his relationship with his brother ?"
"Let's say it's better if I stay unmentioned in this case." smile the detective.
"I'm most definitely mad." sighed Watson. "Well I'll see what I can do but for now I'll better go. I've promised Molly to join her at Barts before 11 and with the state of the traffic I'm probably already late. See you Greg."
"Yeah, thanks John, see you !" replied the policeman before shaking the other man's hand and finishing his beer.
That was at least one thing done. He had no idea if the youngest Holmes would actually follow John's order but at least he will have tried to sort things out. On this thought, he exited the pub, ready for the second task of the day, finding himself a 'morning suit'.

Mycroft had recommended him to try Cad and the Dandy on Saville Road and when parking his car in front of the 13th of the street he quite instantly regret having followed his partner advice. He wasn't even inside the shop but he was already feeling out of place in this street crowded with stylish shops and smartly dressed men. With his usual Scotland Yard grey suit and M&S white shirt without tie, there was no doubt he didn't belong to the place.
Tho it was too late to look for another place so he entered the shop, trying to look more confident than he actually was. The shop was nearly empty except a couple of salesmen and another customer trying out what looked like a fully bespoke suit. Greg on the other hand was looking for something ready to wear, having to wear it the same evening and, in this regard, he was lucky enough to have quite a common physicality which make it easy for him to find something fitting him.
"Hello sir, may I help you ?" a young sale assistant asked him as soon as he stepped in.
"Well actually yes. I'm looking for a complete 'morning suit', if you have this, jacket, trousers, all that." replied the inspector, uneasy at the feeling that the young man was scanning him from head to toe.
"Yes sure sir. Tailored or ready-to-wear ?" smiled the man, directing his customer toward the right department of the small store.
"Well as I am supposed to wear it tonight I suppose ready-to-wear is a safe choice." answered the policeman.
"For sure it is." chuckled the vendor. "Well, at least I must have plenty of choice fitting your measurement. Any idea on the style of morning suit you want or the colour ?"
"Well no. Actually I don't know much about this kind of thing." admitted Greg, looking quite lost.
"No problem. If I understood you well it's a night event so I would recommend you a black jacket and I would avoid the yellow waistcoat, favouring maybe this light blue one ?" proposed the man, showing the DI a jacket and waistcoat displayed on a mannequin a few feet away.
The detective nodded, still as lost as before but appreciating the item he was pointed at.
"For the trousers there is more choice but I strongly recommend stripped ones in a dark shade of grey. We've got the choice between a variety of stripe widths and designs but usually fine stripes are preferred." continued the salesman, showing him a pair of very fine trousers. "But if you prefer I can show you other kind of stripes or even dogstooth. With all that I would go for a cut away collar shaped white shirt for a little more contemporary feel and a tie matching the colour of the waistcoat if that agree with you."
"That seems absolutely perfect to me." smiled the yarder.
"Well if you care maybe you could make your way to the fitting room and I'll bring you the items so you can try them out and see how you feel with it." the man recommended, showing him to a large and comfortable lounge equipped with a couple of velvet-covered armchair and a large mirror.
Greg started undressing himself and a couple of minutes later the sale assistant was back with the clothing he had suggested to the detective earlier. The DI started dressing up, quite worried as the man hadn't asked for his size, but he soon understood that if he had been eye-scanned from head to toe earlier it wasn't only because he was poorly dressed for a place like this one but also because the man was trying to guess, quite successfully apparently, his exact size.
He put on every piece of the suit before looking at himself in the mirror. The person he was seeing couldn't actually be him. Of course, he recognized his face but the suit was making him look fairly different from what he was used to, taller and more tanned and just more elegant in every way. He smiled at his reflection, feeling like one of those aristocrats from EM Forster's books and such novels that he had read in his teenage years.

Fully dressed and booted, Greg was sat in the back of the black Jaguar beside his partner, he too dressed in an even more fine looking morning suit, the colour of his waistcoat and tie enlightening even more greatly his dark blue eyes making him look positively entrancing. They were on their way to Buckingham Palace were a reception was held to honour a bunch of people who were to be awarded their CBE, OBE and MBE or, like Mycroft, the high honour of a KBE, the highest rank in the Order of the British Empire. The auburn was not only looking absolutely gorgeous but also surprisingly relaxed at the idea of being decorated when the detective on the other hand was quite nervous at the idea of standing in the same room as the Queen, even if he was just to attend the ceremony and not to receive any decoration himself.
The car dropped them in the Palace's yard in front of a rather huge army of journalists and photographs but luckily enough for them, and especially for the elder Holmes who was trying to find the best way to avoid having his face plastered in the newspaper once more, a car bringing one of the most famous pop star of the moment arrive just half a minute after they had been dropped themselves and all the press turned to him, allowing the two men to enter the reception hall quite unnoticed.
Greg took the seat he was being pointed at and Mycroft joined the other honoured men and women already waiting at the front row of the audience. Discreetly, the detective seized his phone in his pocket and snapped a couple of pictures including a selfie that he sent to his daughter, having promised her to show how he look in his fancy suit. He was careful not to be seen, considering that being caught in such a ceremony acting like a right tourist would probably be considered inappropriate but he couldn't help himself of wanting to have a few memories of this evening. He was too far from the place were Mycroft was to be honoured to have a good picture when he would receive his decoration but he was pretty sure that an official photographer would be there and that he would be able to find the picture that would be taken quite easily on the net in a couple of day but he, as part of the audience, wouldn't be photographed and he was still determined to be remembered of where he actually was standing.
Mycroft would probably find this childish but Greg didn't cared. He, unlike the auburn who nearly had an office in the Palace had never been inside Buckingham and as every British school boy, he had been raised to consider this place as the heart of the nation and he was over the moon, even if a bit nervous, to for once being inside better than in front of the grids.
The inspector felt his phone buzzing in his pocket and grabbed it, despite the disapproving glance from the old lady sat beside him, to read the text Sarah had sent him as a reply to his selfie.
'Looking all posh Dad ;) Hope you enjoy your evening and send the love and congratulation of the three of us to Mycroft xxx PS : Do you think you can have a selfie with a Royal ? 20 quids you can't :p'