You're...what?

A Kind of Announcement

"I don't understand! If Lestrade was here, he would let me examine the body!"
"Well Lestrade isn't here!"
"Then where is he?"
"He's off sick, I keep telling you this but you don't listen Sherlock"
"No, you don't listen"

Sherlock slammed the case file onto the desk in fury making Anderson almost jump out of his skin.
"Lestrade has been off for over a week with what you tell me is some sort of flu, however it strikes me that nobody else in this department has had the flu or any form of illness similarly, so what's going on? Tell me, now"
"Sherlock, you and I both know Detective Lestrade wouldn't sign off unless he was very unwell so-"
"Why hasn't he recovered? Are you hiding something from me Anderson?" he shouted, gesturing angrily towards the inspector.
Anderson laughed nervously.
"Of course you would ask that, you're some bizarre alien without human emotions or feeling! People get ill Sherlock and they take time off like normal people, Lestrade will be back o-wh-where are you going?"
Anderson sighed as as Sherlock swiftly walked out the door, knocking over everything in his path as he did so.

The doorbell noisily disturbed a peaceful evening, and quickly the cause made itself known.
"LESTRAAAAADE"
Greg's eyes went wide and he looked up at Mycroft from his cosy position, the holmes' lap. Mycroft groaned and rolled his eyes, holding onto Greg as he anxiously shifted.

"Myc-" he muttered drowsily.
"Shhh, don't waste your attention on him, he's not worth it"
"...won't he be mad?"
"Undoubtedly"
The doorbell rung again.
"I-I should go, it's my-"
"I know you're in there!" The unmistakeable voice of Sherlock Holmes bellowed from outside.

"Stay here, I will go and deal with this...visitor"
Mycroft ran a hand through his detective's hair and moved to get up. Just before he could, Greg weakly grabbed his wrist.
"No Myc it's my flat, he'll be suspicious you're here... we could just ignore him, or pretend to be dead" Greg scrunched his nose in thought as he realised all the flaws in the latter plan...and also the positives. No more work, but then again no more money...but would there be life insurance money? And he would get to hear his own eulogy, that had to be a bonus; unless it was Sherlock's job to deliver it, then definitely not a bonus.

"He was going to work it out eventually darling, we're hardly hiding our tracks. He's my brother, I'll deal with him, you stay here and get your rest"
"...been resting all day..."
"Only half of the day, the other half you were... otherwise indisposed" Mycroft flashed a concerned smile to his boyfriend who sighed in response.
"Ok, but... don't say anything stupid"
Mycroft leant in for a quick but tender kiss
"Of course"

Sherlock tried to look through the curtains but couldn't see anything, curse the fabric opacity, how was he supposed to keep track of his favourite detective and dare he say friend with curtains as thick as this.
"Must make a note... burn Lestrade's curtains down at next available opportunity, finalise by offering condolences and replacement curtains preferably made out of single line linen, in grey, he likes grey"

The faint shuffling coming from inside settled him a little, at least it wasn't so bad that the DI couldn't walk. But...he could swear he heard another voice? A family friend perhaps. Perhaps it was a bad time... No, he needed answers and needed them now.
He was just about to yell again when the door opened.

"Thank god, you would not believe how dull th- Mycroft? What the hell are you doing here??"
Mycroft smirked at Sherlock's stunned expression.
"I could ask the same of you brother dearest"
Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he tried to understand the situation.
"Where's Lestrade?"
"Presumably his colleagues at Scotland Yard informed you of his inability to report to work, why else would you be here at this hour in such a state, if you were a normal functioning human being I would say you were concerned but-"
"I'm not concerned!"
"So quick to react? Could it be brother that you are gaining compassion for your colleagues?"

Sherlock swore under his breath, gritting his teeth. He stepped right into Mycroft's space, glaring deeply into his unfazed expression.
"Look Mycroft, I didn't come here to be criticised and bothered by you, I'm here to see Lestrade! Where is he? Why won't you-"
The younger Holmes recoiled as a new piece of the puzzle jumped out in front of him.

"Oh."
Mycroft raised an eyebrow, inviting Sherlock to continue.
"At first I thought you were wearing the same aftershave as Lestrade, naturally I'm familiar with the scent having spent so much time working with him"
"Naturally"
"But on you the scent is not as strong, meaning rather than you using the same aftershave, someone else using that aftershave has been very close to you recently...and often, no, regularly. The lack of mixed cigarette smells confused me but if Lestrade is ill then he is not smoking which would explain that, but why would you be close to Lestrade? There are strands of his hair all over your clothes and don't seem to mind, a contradiction knowing you. Any dirt or inconsistencies would repel you but in this case... and since when did you not wear a suit, or...shoes"
"I can relax sometimes"
"No Mycroft, you never relax, which just makes this-"
Sherlock paused, gasping. He frantically muttered to himself, putting his head in his hands.

"Honestly Sherlock, I'm surprised you didn't work it out before, you had plenty of opportunities to. Perhaps you didn't want to accept it, but it's the truth"
"NO!" He yelled, pushing past his brother and into the flat.
Greg didn't have the energy to feel surprised when Sherlock stormed into the living room, neither was he particularly shocked given the tone of voice he'd heard from outside. He sat up from the sofa and rubbed his eyes, preparing himself for-
"Mycroft??? You're dating Mycroft??? Are you out of your MIND? Seriously Greg, you couldn't find anyone else to- oh my god you're pregnant"
"Yeah good evening to you too Sherlock"

"How did you pick the pregnancy up so quickly, it took me ages" Mycroft muttered from the doorway.
"Well it's obvious from the-"
"Sherlock please, I don't need another Holmes to tell me I'm fat and hormonal"
"...you're watching 'one born every minute' and your phone is open on a baby names tab"

Greg was certain baby brain wasn't supposed to come this early on in the pregnancy.
However, the Holmes brothers did have a knack for making him feel thick.
Life goes on...