Mystrade Oneshots

15) Angel With A Shotgun

Angst
There's quite a bit of swearing in this one. Just putting it out there.

Mycroft couldn't work out how it happened.

He hadn't even been walking for that long, it must have been a planned job. It was very organised. They must have known about his umbrella's other purposes because that's the first thing they did. Disarm him.

After that it was a matter of a stun dart to the neck and quickly bundling him into a car by the side of the road. It was smooth, it was fast, it was kidnapping.

He came to about three hours later. Alone and cold. His head pounded and he was sore all over, they must not have been careful with him while he was unconscious. A bad sign. Their plan obviously didn't rely on his wellbeing. Well at least he'd ruled money or power out of the equation, if he found out what they needed him for his chances of survival went up. Unless they planned to kill him of course, he just hoped that wasn't the case.

His first instinct was to rub his aching head, but he found that he couldn't move. Handcuffs. Not very elegant, but very effective.

Mycroft spent a moment trying to work out where he was but that's easier said than done when your vision is blurier than a shaky Polaroid. His ears were ringing but he could just about make out a collective murmuring around the room.

"Shit! Michael, the police are here!" A voice yelled from across the room.

The person who was apparently Michael stood up, he looked pretty calm. Maybe just determined, Mycroft couldn't really tell. "Lance, take him and go hide in the back, if you spot an opening leg it. Kill as many as you can." He said, staring at the tied up government official the whole time.

This Lance fellow had already started untieing Mycroft, he looked up as Michael went to leave. "Alright. But what about you?"

"I'll deal with the coppers, there's one in particular I'd like to meet and I bet he wouldn't miss this for the world." Michael spoke in a low, slow tone before he turned back to meet Mycroft's already alarmed eye. "I think he goes by Greg Lestrade. Silver hair, brown eyes, reasonably tall." He smirked as he saw Mycroft's eyes widen even further. "If you see him feel free to say hi, I won't be too disappointed..." With that he was gone.

Lance had an alarming evil smirk on his lips as he dragged Mycroft into a backroom. Mycroft wanted to struggle, he had too, he needed to. He had to find a way to get free, to warn Gregory. But he couldn't. His limbs just wouldn't cooperate.

"Now stay quiet or I'll kill that Greg guy. Make this easy for me and I might just spare him." Lance whispered sinisterly into his ear.

It was quiet for a long time.

Suddenly there was shouting, and banging, and Mycroft could feel himself being dragged again but he had to urge to fight. He knew somewhere in the back that if he didn't he would never see Gregory again.

He threw himself to the floor. Lance cursed loudly and tried to get Mycroft back on his feet but Mycroft refused. He kicked and bit and crawled away, anything to slow down whatever plans these men had.

"Fuck this." Lance hissed and stood over Mycroft, placing one of his boots into Mycrofts chest. "Y'know, our buyer wanted you alive, but I'm sure they'll understand if something were to happen." He said, lining the gun he had up with Mycrofts head. "If only you could have just done as I'd said, I wouldn't have to do this. But there we are. You're just too stubborn to help anyone but yourself. Well look where that got you."

Mycrofts last thoughts were going to be about how ironic this was. Lance seemed convinced he'd struggled to save himself, but he'd only struggled for Gregory. The only thing that mattered was Gregory.

"Sorry old man, but this is where it ends. It's a shame, I was looking forward to watching somebody else do this a bit slower." Lance shrugged. "Oh well."

Mycroft locked eyes with his captor, preparing himself for what was about to happen.

A shot echoed throughout the room.

Lance fell to the floor. Dead? Injured? Mycroft couldn't quite tell...

Mycroft looked up, very much still alive. He sworn he saw light surrounding whoever was walking towards him. Were they an angel? Was he actually dead?

In reality it was Greg, who was actually running towards Mycroft. He dropped down by the man's side. "Hey, hey! Mycroft, can you hear me?"

"Gregory?" Mycroft answered. His voice was small and distant.

"Yes, it's me. I'm here. Are you hurt?"

Mycroft shook his head. He didn't think he was injured. He was vaguely aware of other people moving around them, maybe they were other police officers dealing with Lance.

"Ok good. Come on, let's get you out of here." Without another word Greg scooped Mycroft up in his arms and carried him outside where several ambulances were waiting.

After a while of being checked out by paramedics, it was decided that Mycroft was just severely in shook but otherwise fine. He was given a blanket and a hot cup of tea. Greg had been called away earlier to deal with something or another but was currently making his way swiftly back over to Mycroft, which was the best cure of his shock. Blanket be damned.

"Put the blanket back on." Greg said as soon as he was within ear shot of his fiancé.

"I'm ok Gregory, honestly." Mycroft answered, giving the man a small smile.

Greg looked unconvinced. "I'm sure you are. Put the blanket back on."

Mycroft gave a long suffering sigh but did as he was told. He didn't mind it so much because Gregory wrapped his arm around the blanket afterwards. "What happened to Lance and Michael?"

"Who?" Greg asked before connecting the dots. "Oh those bastards. Michael's already on his way to a very secure holding cell. He'll be tried and put away as soon as a case is put together against him. So tomorrow, I'll make sure of it."

"Aren't you emotionally compromised and therefore cannot work this case?" Mycroft asked curiously.

"Sod that. No one has to know who puts the case together. I'll give it to Sally in the morning and she can take over." Greg replied, he'd already worked out most of it and Sally had already volunteered to head up the case.

"Ah ok." Mycroft murmed, taking a sip of his tea. "What happened to Lance?"

"He can't hurt anyone ever again." Was all Greg said. His tone was grave and his expression distant. Mycroft knew better than to ask more questions on the matter.

There was a long moment of silence between them. They watched the officers shuffling about around the place, and they looked up at the stars that shone brightly down on them.

"You saved me." Mycroft said quietly. He wasn't usually prone to moments of sentiment but he was in shock, at least that was his excuse.

Greg tightened his arm around Mycroft. "Of course. I love you. I'd never let anything happen to you."

Mycroft decided not to point out that something technically did happen to him. He just smiled and leaned his head onto Greg's shoulder.

It would take Mycroft a while to get over this, but the knowledge that Greg would be right by his side the entire time made it that bit easier to get through.