Mystrade Oneshots

43) Drunk Discoveries

"Annd another thing!" Greg slurred out, pointing at whatever poor sod was behind the bar. "Wha are they puttin' in bananas these days!"

Mycroft Holmes walked into the pub and easily spotted Greg Lestrade sitting on a bar stool in the corner. He'd received a phone call about a rowdy costumer that was somehow his responsibility. This is what happens when you get involved with your brothers friends apparently.

"Gregory." Mycroft muttered as he walked towards the man in question.

Greg spun round in the seat a lot faster than was safe and almost went hurtling into a thankfully empty table.

Mycroft was already next to him, steadying him. "I think it's time to go home." He said, putting one arm and around Greg and hoisting him off the chair.

"Nooooo!" Greg protested but was too drunk to actually do anything to stop Mycroft. "M' fine."

"If that's what fine looks like, I really don't want to know what 'not ok' looks like. Come on." Mycroft insisted pulling Greg out of the building. He sent an apologetic smile towards the bar tender as they left.

Mycroft lead Greg towards a sleek, black car that was waiting outside, and bundled him onto the back seat of it. He took the seat next to Greg and gave his chauffeur directions.

Greg, who really had no idea what was going on, looked out of the window and watched the pub disappear when the car turned a corner. He turned to sit straight again, leaning heavily against the door, and with the biggest pout on his face. "Meanie." He mumbled.

Mycroft rolled his eyes with a small sigh. "What on Earth possessed you to do that?"

"I dunno, ok, I dunno." Greg replied, with some amount of difficulty. "I didn' mean to."

"How can you 'accidently' get dru-" Mycrofts tone was getting louder by the second but he stopped when he noticed how genuinely upset Greg looked. "Never mind." He continued softly. "Do you remember anything?"

Greg remembered a lot of things, it hurt slightly to remember complicated things, but he could do it. There was one very complicated thing he remembered, he couldn't stop remembering it. "I thin' I love someone..."

"Oh dear God." Mycroft muttered under his breath. "And who is it you think you love?"

Greg looked around quickly, as if to check no one was listening. "Ok, I'll tell you, buh you have to swear not to tell them..."

Mycroft nodded slowly. "Ok. I won't tell anyone." He replied. He felt stupid doing this but if he found out why Greg had done this he could try and prevent it in the future.

"Okay." Greg started, making some unnecessary hand gestures. "His name is Myc, well is not Myc, is Mycroft, but I call him Myc." He said in a hushed tone that got louder in strange places.

Mycroft couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips when he listened to Greg. He decided not to point out that they'd been married for three years. "So you got drunk because you love a man named Mycroft?"

Greg nodded slowly for a lot longer than he needed to. "Ye, well no, buh he's so cool an' I'm jus this dumb drunk idiot. He could never love me..."

Mycroft felt his heart break at this. He had to remind himself that his husband was drunk off his ass and this didn't mean anything. At least he hoped so. It was about then that they arrived at their shared mannor, where Greg was promptly dragged out of the car and put in a cold shower to sober up.

The next day Greg remembered who he was, and who he was married to. He went very red and spend the rest of the day trying to make up for it, even if he didn't need to. Mycroft thinks it's adorable and will make sure that however much his husband tries to forget that night, that he never truly will.